Tiassa Page 5

  When we were done and Loiosh was picking over the bones, I went into the office with Omlo and said, “It’s time to practice.”

  He took a chair. “I’m ready, m’lord. What first?”

  “Sit,” I told him.

  “My lord? I’m sitting.”

  “Sit like someone who’s, you know, cocky. Sure of himself. Knows he can get what he wants. More arrogant. Yeah, like that.”

  He smiled. “Part of the trade, m’lord.”

  “Good. Now stand up and walk to the door. No, not sexy. Confident. Try again. Better. More like you’re going somewhere. Not in a hurry, but—good.”

  “That wasn’t too much?”

  “No, perfect. Meanwhile, start walking, talking, and looking as aristocratic as you can.”

  “I shall, m’lord.”

  “Got a minute, Vlad?” Kragar’s head looked weirdly disembodied around the edge of the door. “I have something for you to look at.”

  I excused myself and followed him into his office, where he presented me with a three-page report on the Blue Fox: history, origin, family, and activity. I took a few minutes to read it.

  “Good work. How did you find all this?”

  “I’m just that good.”

  “You are, you are.”

  “I asked a guy who asked a guy and I got his family. And it turns out the Blue Fox is real. Or was, anyway. It’s all there.”

  “You got a bonus coming.”

  “I am bathed in a warm glow.”

  “I’ll see you when you’ve dried off.”

  I went back to work with Omlo; we put in another couple of hours and then called it a day. I told him to return the following day and we’d start work on the hard part—the Load—and then stay with it until we were ready to start the action. He understood; he seemed excited about the whole thing. I liked his attitude; I hoped he wouldn’t end up with holes in him.

  That night Cawti and I ate at the Blue Flame and talked about the wedding.

  “I don’t have anyone to make a headdress,” said Cawti.

  “Noish-pa will find someone,” I said, referring to my grandfather.

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  She smiled. “All right. Who will stand for you?”

  “I’ll ask Morrolan. He probably knows some of the customs.”

  “How is he with rhymes?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll write them for him, if I have to.”

  She smiled. “Will I get to hear them?”

  “Of course not. It’s bad luck.”

  “After the wedding?”

  “All right. What rhymes with Aliera?”

  “Now, you know I can’t help.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Shall we find a priest of Verra?”

  “I’d like that. But then we need a procession. If we do the civil service at the House, and then go to a temple in South Adrilankha, that would be a long walk for everyone.”

  “So we’ll bring the Jhereg clerk to us, then we can make the procession as long as we want.”

  “Good point,” I said. “Or bring the priest to us. Or both.”

  “Or both.”

  She leaned her head on my shoulder and my heart flip-flopped. She said, “Oh, thinking about weddings, marriage, and all of that, a small, unimportant question just came to mind. What do you think of children?”

  “Um,” I said. “Children. I hadn’t thought about it. I mean, other than Loiosh.”

  “You are so going to pay for that.”

  I felt her laughing. I said, “Seriously, I don’t know. It had never crossed my mind. I need to think about it.”

  She nodded and suggested that, just in case, we should work on the process. She paid the shot and we went back to my flat to put this plan into action.

  I worked with Omlo again the next day, and saw Cawti again in the evening. We didn’t talk about children again, but we did get serious about the wedding.

  I’ve put less planning into killing people.

  When Omlo arrived, I had him run through the entire business, including the Load. “Good,” I told him when he’d finished. “But it could stand to be a little smoother.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Try it again.”

  I was still working with him a couple of hours later when Melestav poked his head in and told me someone calling himself the Blue Fox would like to see me, and he had a Dzurlord with him. The expression on Melestav’s face as he pronounced the name of my visitor was a precious thing that I will treasure forever. I allowed as to how they could come into my office, and asked him to have Kragar join us.

  I rose and sketched a bow. “Blue Fox, Ibronka, this is Omlo, who will be the Skin.”

  Omlo looked at me, I think to ask whether he should be in character for these two. I shrugged, so he made a fairly obsequious bow, which the Tiassa and Dzur returned in a sort of casual-to-friendly way.

  “Your money,” said the Fox, depositing a purse on my desk. “This isn’t tagged, it’s what I agreed to pay you. The extra should be sufficient to cover the physicker.”

  I nodded and put the purse into my lower right-hand drawer. Then I said, “Feel free to find chairs. I’ve got things mostly put together. Omlo here is part of it.”

  As they were finding chairs, Omlo said, “If I may ask, m’lord?”

  “Yes?”

  “What are their positions in this?”

  “He’s the Runner, she’s the Dog-man, and I’m the Turner, which completes the crew.” I smiled. “Now we’re ready to get to work.”

  3

  “She’s the what?”

  “I’m the which?”

  “M’lord, what are those things?”

  “I’ll explain.”

  “I’d like to hear it, too,” said Kragar. “Do I get to do something?”

  “Everyone, this is Kragar. He works for me.”

  I could see them all wondering how long he’d been there.

  Fox-boy said, “What was it you said our jobs are?”

  “You’re going to be the Runner, and the lovely lady by your side will be the Dog-man. If you agree, of course. You’re well suited.”

  “Dog-man,” he repeated, glancing at Ibronka. “I’m not sure I like that.”

  “It’s not personal, just the term for that job.”

  I took a moment to study Blue-boy. I guess, to a Dragaeran, he’d be considered good-looking: his eyes were clear and sharp, his lips thin, hair swept back to show off an unusually distinct noble’s point. And he was one of those people who always seemed to be a little amused by everything. I find such people a touch irritating, but that may only be because I’m one myself. I thought over what I’d learned about him, and wished I knew enough to deduce what exactly was going on.

  He said, “Where does the term come from?”

  “I don’t actually know,” I said. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with the way a dog will sit somewhere and do nothing and then bark when something happens.”

  “Ever owned a dog?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Never mind, then. What are my orders, General?”

  “You have the coins?”

  He pulled out a medium-sized purse and dropped it on my desk. “Clink,” it said.

  “I hope,” I told him, “you didn’t take that from an honest citizen.”

  “I didn’t,” he said. “I took it from a merchant.”

  “And you’re sure the gold is tagged?”

  “Spend it,” he said, “and you’ll find out fast enough.”

  “That’s exactly the plan,” I told him. “Although it won’t be me who spends it. How much is there?”

  “A bit more than four imperials, most of it silver. I hope that’s enough.”

  “Plenty. You keep it. You’ll be using it.”

  He picked it up again. “To do what?”

  “Get arrested, of course.”

  “I thought the idea was to avoid that.”

  “
Yes, well, almost get arrested.”

  “Maybe, if it isn’t too much trouble, you could—”

  “I will. Just a moment. We’re waiting for someone.”

  He started to ask who, then shrugged. In about two minutes Cawti came in. She bowed to them gravely as I said, “Cawti, this is the Blue Fox, and this is Ibronka. This fellow is called Omlo. Everyone, Cawti.”

  “A pleasure,” said Cawti. “Ibronka, that’s an Eastern name.”

  “So I’ve been told,” she said. From her tone, I’d say she didn’t like Cawti a great deal more than she liked me, which in my opinion indicated a flaw in her character. The Fox-guy rose and bowed like he meant it.

  I didn’t have enough chairs, so Cawti perched on my desk, generally facing the guests. Without turning her pleasant and rather phony smile away from them, she said to me, “Are you about to reveal all, Vladimir?”

  “Yeah, I was thinking about going over the plan with our new friends.”

  She nodded. “Not a bad idea. But then they might see it coming when we betray them to the Empire for the reward.”

  “That isn’t all that funny,” said Foxy.

  I studied him; the expression on his face was, in spite of his words, amused. I said, “First of all, yes it is. Second, is there a reward for you?”

  “Not in this county,” he said.

  “That would make transportation a problem,” I said.

  “A big problem,” said Ibronka, smiling sweetly the way I smile sweetly.

  I said, “How big is the reward? I might need to consider this.”

  “It’s gone up and down a few times,” he said, “depending on how busy we’ve been. Right now, I think it’s about twelve hundred imperials.”

  “I’m impressed,” I said. And I was, too: I was impressed that he named the same amount Kragar had found; usually they like to understate if they’re scared, or exaggerate if they aren’t.

  He made a bowing gesture. “I like to think I’m successful in my field.”

  I nodded. “No question, one takes pride in accomplishment.” Ibronka looked carefully blank; Cawti smirked. I said, “For now, we’ll skip the whole betrayal-transportation-reward plan, and go with my original idea. Besides, I’d hate to get a reputation for being untrustworthy.”

  Bluey nodded. “Best not to let that happen.”

  “I’m going to tell you how this will work. I want Kragar and Cawti here to poke holes in the plan.”

  “I thought that was my job, Boss.”

  “If you want to fight a duel with Kragar for the privilege, I won’t stop you.”

  “All right,” I said. “It’s a simple plan made complicated by the need to not get killed. The idea is to convince the Empire that this method of catching highwaymen is a bad idea. Now—”

  “Do you do this sort of thing a lot?”

  “What?”

  “Convince the Empire to change how it does things.”

  “Not as often as you’d think.”

  “All right. Go on.”

  “We’re going to arrange for the Empire to catch us using tagged coins, then make them wish they hadn’t.”

  “Right. I already guessed that part.”

  “Then here’s the rest.”

  I went over the whole thing, first in general, then more specifically, concentrating on the warning and the false chase. Then I went over it again. Then I said, “Questions?”

  Cawti had one. “The first part, the race. What if they pull in help that heads him off before he gets to you?”

  I frowned. “Good point. Kragar, get us ten reliable people stationed along the route to get in the way in case the law gets too close.”

  “How much am I paying them for this?”

  “Enough, but not too much.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome. Any other questions?”

  Fox-fellow had one: “Is this going to work?”

  I considered that. “Almost certainly, probably, there’s a good chance, perhaps, and I very much hope so, depending on which part of it we’re discussing. Your end, almost certainly.”

  “That’s reassuring,” he said as if it wasn’t.

  “And,” said Ibronka, “what about your end? By which I mean, the result.”

  “If everything else works, I’m hopeful about that.”

  “I’m glad to know your state of mind,” she said as if she weren’t.

  Kragar nodded toward Omlo. “Uh, I don’t know you, so no offense, but you don’t look like you could pull off the part. Are you an actor?”

  “In a way, m’lord.”

  “He’s one of my tags,” I said.

  “Ah. All right, then.”

  The Blue one said, “What’s a tag?”

  “A prostitute,” I said. “They have to be able to act, at least a little, and they’re usually pretty hungry for money.”

  He frowned. “I’ve never heard that expression.”

  “Years ago,” I said, “street prostitutes used to walk around with a tag on their shoulders, listing their price.”

  “Oh.”

  Ibronka said, “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it.”

  I looked at the two of them. “I take it, then, that you find your parts acceptable.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. The first thing that has to happen is the Skin needs to make contact with the Anvil. Kragar? Find anything?”

  “He is exceptionally fond of small sculpted objects, especially jade and silver.”

  “Silver sculpted objects?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I have something that should work. It’s in my flat; I’ll send for it. Omlo, in the Dragon Wing there will be an office for Lord Feorae. He is responsible for civic and county investigations. Find somewhere to wait near his office. There’s probably a waiting room just outside of it.”

  “My lord, what do I say if someone asks me what I’m doing there?”

  “Give him an evasive answer.”

  “My lord?”

  “You’re an aristocrat. Make yourself look like, I don’t know, a Hawk.” I found a scrap of paper and wrote an address on it, handed it to him. “When we’re done, go there and tell them you’re from me, and you need to pass for a Hawklord—ears, complexion, and everything.”

  “I can do that.”

  “And can you act the part?”

  “I believe so, m’lord.”

  “Look vague and distracted most of the time. If you’re asked a question, sniff and look disdainful.”

  “And if doing so should incite a challenge, my lord?”

  “Don’t sniff that loudly.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “If you sniff just loud enough, and hit the disdainful perfectly, you won’t have to wait too long to see him. Then, well, lay it out. You have the item and a sudden need for money.”

  “And if he asks me why?”

  “Gambling debts.”

  He nodded.

  “Put the proposition simply. Yes, no, or he’ll think about it. Kragar will give you a psiprint and a description of the object. It’s a silver tiassa, very small and delicate, with sapphires for eyes. I think Feorae will want to buy it, but we’ll see.”

  “Yes, m’lord.”

  “If he says yes, you can get it to him as soon as tomorrow.”

  He nodded. Maybe he’d run out of m’lords.

  “Are you clear on what you need to do?”

  “Yes, m’lord.” Guess he had another.

  “As soon as you have the material, head straight over to the Dragon Wing and get started. In the meantime, we’ll just wait here. Shouldn’t take long.”

  He nodded, looking a little nervous, like it had just become real to him.

  Foxy nodded to Omlo. “Do you like it?”

  “My lord?”

  “The job. Do you like it?”

  “It seems all right so far, m’lord.”

  “No, not this job, being a pr—, a
tag.”

  “Oh. It’s all right.”

  “What House are you? I can’t tell from looking at you.”

  “Chreotha, m’lord.”

  “How did you end up in your line of work?”

  “My lord? I’m not sure how to answer that. I guess I just fell into it.”

  “That’s it? You fell into it?”

  Omlo seemed puzzled. “Yes, my lord.” He looked at me.

  “My lord the Fox wants to hear a hard luck story,” I told him.

  Omlo frowned. “There wasn’t anything else I wanted to do, or was any good at. And the money is all right.”

  “Do you have a pimp?”

  “No, m’lord. What I earn is all mine after I split with the house.”

  “Earn,” he said.

  Omlo looked puzzled.

  “I just don’t know much about it,” said Blue. “I’m curious. That’s a whole world I’ve never come in contact with, and it makes me curious. What it’s like working in a house, sex with someone you’ve never even met—”

  “Or,” I told Omlo, “he might be considering switching careers.”

  Ibronka reached out a hand and touched his arm. “Maybe you should drop it,” she said. I couldn’t tell who she was addressing, but if it was me I was willing.

  Sometime during the conversation Kragar had returned; I know because it was about then he said, “It’s ready.”

  I nodded to Omlo, who rose, bowed, and set off to begin the operation, Kragar leading the way.

  “What now?” asked Fox.

  “Nothing until we get a solid draw on Feorae.”

  “You’re that sure we will?”

  “If not, it’ll take longer, or we’ll find a different Anvil. Is there an especial hurry?”

  “Not as long as my money holds out.”

  “If you need a loan, I have some names for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Where do you stay in town?”

  “With friends. Why?”

  “If you tell me how to reach these friends, I’ll let you know when we’re ready to start.”

  He looked at Ibronka, who stared back at him; I suppose there was a fair bit of conversation I couldn’t hear, but then he said, “Ironstone Manor, home of the Lady Lewchin, House of the Issola.”