The Book of Jhereg Read online

  The lieutenant hesitated, studied her troops, then called out, “Weapons at ready.” There was some sound of steel being drawn as the Dragons did so, and a few of the Teckla. The Easterners gripped their weapons and moved forward, forming a solid wall. A few more of the Guard drew weapons. I spared Kelly a glance and he was looking at my grandfather, who was looking at him. They exchanged nods, as of old acquaintances. Interesting.

  My grandfather drew his rapier. He said to Cawti, “This is no place for you.”

  “Padraic Kelly,” called the lieutenant in a piercing voice, “I arrest you in the name of the Empress. Come with me at once.”

  “No,” said Kelly. “Tell the Empress that unless she agrees to a full investigation into the murders of our comrades, by tomorrow there will be no clear road into or out of the city, and by the following day the docks will be closed. And if she attacks us now, the Empire will fall by morning.”

  The lieutenant called, “Forward!” and the Phoenix Guard took a step toward the Easterners and I knew what I could use the dagger for. This was because in a single instant Kelly, my grandfather, and even Cawti were swept out of my mind. Everyone’s attention was focused on the advancing Guards and the Easterners. Everyone’s, that is, except mine. My attention was focused on Herth’s back, about forty feet away from me.

  Now he was mine. Even his bodyguards were all but ignoring him. Now I could take him and be away, cleanly. It was as if my entire life were about to be fulfilled in one thrust of an eight-inch stiletto.

  Out of habit from the last four days, I gave myself a last caution before I moved away from the wall. Then I took a step toward Herth, holding the knife low against my body.

  Then Loiosh screamed in my mind and there was suddenly a knife coming at my throat. It was attached to a Dragaeran who wore the colors of House Jhereg.

  The assassin had finally made his move.

  10

  I grey silk cravat: repair cut . . .

  THE FACT THAT I was ready for him did nothing to prevent the cold sweat that broke out all over me when I saw him. For one thing, he was ready for me, too, and he had the jump. All thought of Herth was instantly gone, replaced by thoughts of survival.

  Sometimes, in this kind of situation, time slows down. Other times it speeds up, and I’m only aware of what I’m doing after I’ve done it. This was one of the former. I had time to see the knife come toward my throat, and to decide on a countering move, make it, and sit back wondering if it would work. While disarming myself is never my favorite thing to do in a fight, it was my only option. I flipped my knife at him, jumped the other way, and hit the ground rolling. I kept moving as I came up in case he decided to throw some pointy things at me, too. As it happened, he did, and one of them—a knife, I think—came close enough to make the hair on my neck stand up. But I avoided everything else long enough to draw my rapier. As I did so, I told Loiosh, “I can handle this; take care of Cawti.”

  “Right, boss.” And I heard him flap-flap away.

  That was actually one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told, but I was very much aware that mayhem was going to be breaking out around me when the Easterners clashed with the Phoenix Guards, and I didn’t want to be distracted by worrying about Cawti.

  Around then, as I came to a guard position, I realized that Herth’s bodyguards had shots at my back, and that there were more than seventy Phoenix Guards there, any of whom might look over this way in between cutting down Easterners. I licked my lips, felt scared, and concentrated on the man before me—a professional killer who had accepted money to kill me.

  I took my first good look at the assassin. A nondescript sort of guy with maybe a trace of the Dzur in the slant of his eyes and the point of chin. He had long straight hair with a neat widow’s peak. Points all over the bastard, I thought. His eyes were clear and light brown and his glance strayed over me, studying. If things weren’t going as he planned (which, I guarantee, they weren’t) it didn’t show in his expression.

  He’d drawn a sword by this time. He was standing full forward with a heavy rapier in his right hand and a long fighting knife in his left. I presented only my side, as my grandfather had taught me. I closed with him before he could throw anything else at me, stopping when we were point-to-point—that is, just at the distance from each other where the points of our blades could barely touch. From here, the concentration he’d need for a good windup with that knife would give me time to get in at least one good cut or thrust, which would settle the issue if I was lucky.

  I wondered if he were a sorcerer. I glanced at his knife but didn’t see anything to indicate that it was a magical weapon. Not that there had to be anything to see. My hands were sweaty. I remembered that my grandfather had recommended light gloves for fencing, for just that reason. I resolved to get some if I lived through this.

  He made a tentative pass, either recognizing or knowing that I fought strangely and trying to get a feel for my style. He wasn’t as fast as I’d feared, so I placed a light cut on his right hand to teach him to keep his distance.

  It was frightening to be having this kind of fight with Phoenix Guards in the area, but they were all involved in the slaughter of Easterners and were thus too busy to notice us—

  No, they weren’t.

  I realized quite suddenly that five or six seconds had passed and there were no sounds of battle.

  He didn’t realize it yet and tried rushing me then. He did a fine job of it, too. There was no warning that he was about to go, and the timing of his slash, at an angle from my right to left, was very good. I avoided the attack, letting his blade slide up mine, screeching, until I could deflect it. I noted his speed. He had a certain grace, too; the kind that came with long training. And he was utterly passionless. From looking at his face, I couldn’t tell if he was confident, worried, gleeful, or what.

  I made a halfhearted riposte, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. I mean, I would have loved to finalize him, but not with the Phoenix Guard looking on, and it wasn’t at all clear that I could manage to in any case. He blocked my riposte with his dagger. I decided that he probably wasn’t a sorcerer, since sorcerers like to use enchanted daggers for spell-casting, and no one likes to parry with enchanted cutlery.

  He kept coming up on the ball of his right foot and tensing his left leg. I resolved not to let it distract me. I kept my attention on his eyes. No matter how you’re fighting, sword, spell, or empty-handed, your opponent’s eyes are your first indication of when he’ll move.

  There was a second or two of inaction, during which I would have loved to have launched an attack but didn’t dare. Then, I guess, he realized that there were no sounds of battle from around us. Without warning he bounded back a couple of steps, a couple more, then turned and walked briskly away, disappearing around the corner of a building.

  I stood there breathing heavily for just a moment, then I suddenly thought of Herth again. If he’d been in sight I probably would have shined him, Phoenix Guard or no. But when I turned around I didn’t see him. Loiosh landed on my shoulder.

  The two lines, Kelly’s group and the Phoenix Guards, faced each other about ten feet apart. Most of the Guards seemed very unhappy about the situation. Kelly’s people seemed solid and determined; a human wall with knives and sticks bristling from it like thorns from a vine.

  I was alone in the middle of the street, about sixty feet to the side of the Phoenix Guards, some of whom were looking at me. Most of them, however, watched their lieutenant. She was holding her peculiar blade over her head, parallel to the ground in a gesture that suggested “hold,” or perhaps, “sit,” “stay,” or “heel.”

  Cawti stood next to my grandfather and they were staring at me. I sheathed my sword so I wouldn’t be as interesting. The Easterners were still watching the Guards, most of whom were watching their lieutenant. She, at least, hadn’t seen me. I moved to a slightly more open part of the street so the assassin couldn’t come back at me without giving me time to re
act. Then the lieutenant spoke in a voice that carried quite well, although it seemed that she wasn’t shouting. She said, “I have received communication from the Empress. All troops back off to the other side of the street and stand ready.”

  The Phoenix Guard did so, the Teckla happily, the Dragons less so. I’ll say this for Kelly: He didn’t gloat. He just stood watching everything with his jowl set. I mean, it didn’t surprise me that much that he didn’t look relieved; I might have been able to manage that. But keeping the gloat off my face when the troops pulled back would have been beyond me.

  I made my way over to where my family stood. I couldn’t read Cawti’s expression. My grandfather said, “He was pressing you, Vladimir. If he had continued, he would have had the initiative and your balance would have been not right.”

  “Pressing me?”

  “Each time he shifted his feet, he would end with his weight more forward. It is a trick some of these elfs use. I think they don’t know they are doing it.”

  I said, “I’ll remember, Noish-pa.”

  “But you were careful, which is good, and your wrist was supple but firm, as it should be, and you didn’t linger after the stop-cut, as you used once to do.”

  “Noish-pa—,” said Cawti.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” said Cawti.

  “And why should I not?” he said. “What is there to this life that is so worth saving?”

  Cawti glanced around as if to see who was listening to us. I did, too. No one seemed to be.

  “But why?”

  “Why am I here? Cawti, I don’t know. I know that I cannot change how you are, or what you will do. I know that girls aren’t the same in Faerie as back home, and do what they want to, and that is not always a bad thing. But I came to tell you that you can come to see me if you want, and if you want to talk about things, yes? Vladimir, he comes now and then when he is troubled, but you don’t. That is all I have to say. Yes?”

  She looked at him for a moment, and I saw there were tears in her eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him. “Yes, Noish-pa,” she said. Ambrus meowed. My grandfather smiled with what was left of his teeth, turned, walked away, leaning on his cane. I stood next to Cawti watching him. I tried to think of something to say but couldn’t.

  Cawti said, “Now we know why he was here; why were you here?”

  “I was trying to convince that assassin to do just what he did. The idea was for me to shine him.”

  She nodded. “You’ve marked him?”

  “Yeah. I’ll set Kragar to work on it.”

  “So you know he has your name, and you’ll have his, and you’ll be trying to kill each other. What do you think he’ll do now?”

  I shrugged.

  Cawti said, “What would you do?”

  I shrugged again. “Dunno. Either return the money and run as far and as fast as I can, or move right away. Within the day, maybe within the hour. Try to catch the guy before he could set things up.”

  She nodded. “Me, too. Do you want to drop out of sight?”

  “Not especially. There are—”

  The lieutenant began speaking again. “All citizens harken. The following words are from the Empress: You are hereby informed that a full investigation, as you . . . requested, is and has been taking place in accordance with Imperial procedure. You are ordered to disband at once and remove all obstructions from the street. No arrests will take place if these things are done.”

  Then she turned and faced her troops. “Return to duty. That is all.” The Guards resheathed their weapons. The reactions from the Guards were interestingly diverse. Some of the Dragons gave us looks that read, “You’re lucky this time, scum,” and others were mildly regretful, as if they had been looking forward to the exercise. The Teckla seemed relieved. The lieutenant didn’t spare us another look or gesture, she simply rejoined her unit and walked away.

  I turned back to Cawti, but as I did Paresh touched her on the shoulder and gestured to the headquarters. Cawti reached out and squeezed my arm once before following him. As she was disappearing, Rocza left her shoulder and landed on mine.

  “Someone thinks I need help, boss.”

  “Yeah. Or I do. Do you mind?”

  “Naw. I can use the company. You’ve been too quiet lately. I’ve been getting lonely.”

  I didn’t have an answer for that.

  I didn’t take any chances going back to the office; I teleported, then went inside to be sick rather than waiting in the street.

  * * *

  “Any luck with Herth, Kragar?”

  “I’m working on it, boss.”

  “Okay. I’ve got another face. Ready?”

  “What do you mean—Oh. Okay. Go ahead.”

  I gave him the image of the assassin. I said, “Know him?”

  “No. Do you have a name?”

  “No. I want one.”

  “Okay. I’ll have a picture made and see what I can find.”

  “And when you find him, don’t waste time asking me. Have him sent for a walk.” Kragar raised an eyebrow at me. I said, “He’s the one who’s got my name. He almost had my head today, too.”

  Kragar whistled. “How’d you get out of it?”

  “I was ready for it. I guessed someone was after me, so I gave him a pattern to my movements to sucker him out.”

  “And then you didn’t manage to shine him?”

  “A little matter of seventy or eighty Phoenix Guards in the area. Also, he wasn’t as surprised as I’d hoped, and he was pretty good with a blade.”

  Kragar said, “Oh.”

  “So now I know what he looks like, but not his name.”

  “And so you give me the fun part, huh? All right. Do you have anyone in mind?”

  “Yeah. Mario. If you can’t find him, use someone else.”

  Kragar rolled his eyes. “Nothing like specific instructions. All right.”

  “And bring me a new set of weapons. Might as well do something with my hands while I wait for you to solve all my problems for me.”

  “Not all of them, Vlad. I can’t do anything about your height.”

  “Go.”

  He went out and left me with Loiosh, Rocza, and my thoughts. I realized I was hungry and thought about having someone bring me some food. Then it occurred to me that I was going to be teleporting everywhere for a while now, so maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Loiosh and Rocza hissed back and forth, then started chasing each other around the room until I opened the window and told them to do it outside. I was very careful to stand to the side when I opened it. I don’t know of an assassin who would choose to try to get someone from across a street, but the guy was probably pretty desperate by now. At least, I would have been. I shut the window and drew the drapes.

  I could at least accomplish a few things that I’d been too busy for.

  “Melestav!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is Sticks in the office today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Send him up here.”

  “Right.”

  A few minutes later Sticks sauntered in and I handed him a purse with fifty Imperials in it. He weighed it without counting it and looked at me. “What’s this for?”

  I said, “Shut up.”

  He said, “Oh. That. Well, thanks.” He sauntered out again.

  Kragar came back in with a new set of toys for me. I shut the door after him and set up about changing weapons. I took off my cloak and began removing things from it and replacing them as I went. When the cloak was done I started digging things out of the ribbing of my jerkin and other places. While I was removing the dagger from my left sleeve, I noticed Spellbreaker. I guess I’d been avoiding thinking about it since that night, but now I let it fall into my hand.

  It hung there, just like an ordinary chain. I studied it. It was about eighteen inches long, golden, made of thin links. The gold didn’t seem to be plating; it had never scratched or anything. But the chain didn’t seem hea
vy enough for solid gold, and it certainly wasn’t soft. I tried digging a fingernail into one of the links and it felt like a fine steel.

  I decided that I really ought to try to find out what I could about the thing, if I lived through this. I continued changing weapons while I thought about that. What would it take to live through this?

  Well, I’d have to kill the assassin, that was certain. And Herth. No, correct that: I was going to have to kill Herth before I killed the assassin, or Herth would just hire another one. I thought about hiring someone to kill Herth. That would be the intelligent thing to do. For one thing, then I’d know that he’d go down even if I did. And I still had all of that cash lying around; more than I’d ever dreamed of having. If Mario decided to show up and walk into my office, I could even meet his figure.

  The trouble was, not many assassins besides Mario would agree to take on the job. Herth was a boss—a much bigger one than I. He was the kind who doesn’t take a pee without four or five bodyguards there in case his pecker decides to attack him. Shining someone like that requires getting to at least one or two of his bodyguards, or Mario, or finding someone who doesn’t mind dying, or a great deal of luck.

  I could forget Mario; no one even knew where he was. Maybe Kelly knew someone who wanted to make a suicide attack on a Jhereg boss, but I don’t hang around with that sort of individual. Getting to his bodyguards might be possible, but it takes time. You have to find the ones who will take, check them out afterwards to make sure they’ve taken, and set up a time when both you and they can do it with a minimum of risk. I didn’t have that kind of time before the assassin made another attack.

  That left luck. Did I feel lucky? No, I didn’t.

  So where did that leave me?

  Dead.

  I finished changing weapons while I thought about it. I looked at it from a few other angles. Could I somehow convince Herth to cease hostilities? Laughable. Especially since I still had to make sure he wouldn’t kill Cawti. I mean, that’s what had gotten me into this mess, I might as well—