Teckla Page 9

  "I guess not."

  "Neither do I. I should have done this days ago. I haven't been thinking. Is Rocza with her now?"

  He paused. "Yes."

  "Then let's go."

  "What about protection for you?"

  I felt suddenly queasy as I remembered the day before. "I'm not going to be charging around like a blind man this time."

  "Aren't you?"

  That sounded rhetorical so I didn't answer.

  I teleported directly from my office, just in case someone was waiting outside. The Easterners' section was starting to look more and more familiar as I spent more and more time there. I had mixed feelings about this.

  I asked, "Is she moving?"

  "She was, boss. She stopped a while ago."

  "How far are we?"

  "I could fly there in five minutes."

  "Great. How far are we?"

  "Half an hour."

  Streets curved and twisted like Verra's sense of humor, and it was, in fact, a good half-hour before we found ourselves near a large park. A crowded park. There were thousands there, mostly human. I gawked. The last time I had seen that many people gathered in one place there was a battle being fought. I hadn't liked it.

  I took a deep breath and began to make my way into and through the crowd, Loiosh steering. ("This way. Okay, now back to the right. Over there, somewhere. ") Loiosh was being careful not to let Rocza know he was in the area. He could have been unhappy about it, but I guess he chose to look at it as a game. I was being careful not to let Cawti know I was in the area, and there was nothing gamelike about it.

  I spotted her, standing on a platform that seemed to be the center of the crowd's attention. She was scanning the crowd, although most people looking at her wouldn't have known it. At first I thought she was looking for me, but then I understood and chuckled. Kelly was standing at the front of the platform, declaiming in a thundering voice about "their" fear of "us," and Cawti was acting as his bodyguard. Great. I moved up toward the platform, shaking my head. I wanted to act as her bodyguard, without her seeing me. She was looking for someone trying to sneak up to the platform—in other words, she was looking for someone doing just what I was trying to do.

  When I realized that, I stopped where I was—about forty feet away—and watched. I really can't tell you what the speech was about; I wasn't listening. He didn't turn the crowd into a raging mob, but they seemed interested, and there were occasional cheers. I felt lost. I'd never before been in a large group of people while trying to decide if one member of the group was going to kill another member. I assume there are ways of doing it, but I don't know them. I checked back on the platform from time to time, but nothing was happening. I occasionally caught phrases from Kelly's speech, things like, "historical necessity," and "we aren't going to them on our knees." In addition to Kelly, Gregory was up there, and Natalia, and several Easterners and a few Teckla I didn't recognize. They also seemed to be interested in whatever Kelly was talking about.

  Eventually the gathering broke up with much cheering. I tried to stay as close behind Cawti as I could without being spotted. It wasn't very close. Groups formed, one around each of those who had been on the platform, except for Cawti. She was hanging around Kelly. As things thinned out I kept expecting to see someone else who, like me, was just sort of lagging behind, but I didn't.

  After half an hour, Kelly, Gregory and Natalia left the area. Things were pretty quiet by then. I followed them. They returned to Kelly's house and disappeared inside. I waited. The weather was good, for which I was grateful; I hate standing around waiting in the cold and rain.

  The trouble was, it left me with too much time to think, and I had too much to think about.

  I had actually tried to kill myself. Why? That had been the first time I'd been tortured, certainly, but I'd had information beaten out of me before; was it really all that different? I thought of the pain and heard myself screaming and a shudder ran through my body.

  Other times, when I'd been forced to give up information, I had been in control. I had been able to play with them—giving them this or that tidbit and holding back what I could. This time I had just spilled my guts. Okay, but that still didn't account for it. I'm just not the suicidal type. Am I? Verra, what's wrong with me?

  After a while I said, "Loiosh, keep watching the house. I'm going to visit Noish-pa."

  "No, boss. Not without me."

  "What? Why not?"

  "Herth is still looking for you."

  "Oh. Yeah."

  Cawti came out of the house after a few hours. It was getting on toward evening. She headed toward home. I followed. A few times Rocza, on her shoulder, began looking around nervously and Loiosh suggested we drop back for a while, so we did. That was pretty much the excitement. I wandered around for an hour or so then went home myself. Cawti and I didn't say a lot, but I caught her looking at me a few times with a worried expression on her face.

  You can repeat a lot of that for the next day. She left the house and I followed her while she stood around selling tabloids (a new one, I saw; the banner said something about landlords) and talking to strangers. I watched the strangers closely, especially the occasional Dragaeran. I checked with Kragar to see how he was doing, and he said he was working on it. I left him alone after that. I had only bothered him at all because of a growing sense of frustration.

  Frustration? Sure. I was following Cawti around desperately trying to keep her alive and knowing that it was pointless. I couldn't be sure they were about to kill one of the Easterners, and there was no reason to think it would be Cawti and, frankly, there wasn't much I could do anyway. Assassins work by surprise. But if the assassin can surprise the target, chances are he can also surprise one bodyguard who is twenty or thirty feet away. Trying to protect Cawti was almost an exercise in futility. But then, there wasn't anything else I could do except think, and I was tired of thinking.

  "Boss."

  I glanced in the direction that had Loiosh's attention. It was the corner of a large, brown building—the kind that has flats for several families. "What is it?"

  "I saw someone there, tall enough to be a Dragaeran."

  I watched for a while but there was no further movement. Cawti still stood next to a vegetable stall, along with Sheryl, exchanging comments with the vendor from time to time. For half an hour I alternated between watching Cawti and watching the corner, then I gave up and went back to watching my wife while Loiosh kept an eye on the spot where he'd seen someone. Eventually Cawti and Sheryl left and walked back to the building I thought of as their headquarters, though Cawti referred to it only as Kelly's place. I tried to see if they were being followed, but I couldn't be certain.

  Cawti went inside and Sheryl kept going. I stationed myself out of sight down the street where I could watch the door. I was getting to know that door better than I'd ever wanted to know a door. I was glad, at least, that Cawti couldn't teleport.

  It was getting on toward evening when a Dragaeran in Jhereg colors walked boldly up to the door and inside. I checked my weapons and started after him quickly, but he was out again before I was halfway across the street. I turned the other way and seemed uninterested and he didn't notice me. When I looked back he was walking hurriedly away. I thought about following him, but the most I could do was confirm that Herth had sent him. So what?

  He was, I decided, probably a messenger. Or he could have been a sorcerer and he'd just killed everyone in the house. Or—at that moment Cawti, Paresh and Natalia left as if they were in a hurry. I followed. They headed northeast, which is toward the center of the city. (The Easterners' section is South Adrilankha, which is mostly west of central Adrilankha. Make sense of that if you care to.)

  Before crossing the unmarked border into Dragaeran terrain (a street called Carpenter), they turned and followed a couple of side streets. Eventually they stopped and gathered around something on the ground. Cawti knelt down while the others stood over, Paresh began looking around. I walke
d toward them and he saw me. He straightened quickly and his hand went up as if he were about to do something sorcerous and Spellbreaker came into my hand. But he did nothing, and presently I was close enough to be recognized in the fading orange-red light, as well as to see that Cawti was kneeling next to a body. She looked up.

  Paresh was tense, the muscles on his neck standing out. Natalia seemed only mildly interested and a bit fatalistic. Cawti stared at me hard.

  Paresh said, "What have you to do with this?"

  "Nothing," I said, figuring I'd allow him exactly one such question. He nodded rather than pushing it, which half disappointed me.

  Cawti said, "What are you doing here, Vlad?"

  Instead of answering, I approached the body. I looked, then looked away, then looked again, longer. It had once been Sheryl. She had been beaten to death. She was not revivifiable. Each leg was broken at the knee, above it, and below. Each arm was broken at the elbow. The bruises on each side of her face—what was left of it—matched. The top of her head had been staved in. And so on. It was my professional judgment that it had been done over the course of several hours. And if you can't make professional judgments, what's the point of being a professional? I looked away again.

  "What are you doing here, Vlad?" asked Cawti.

  "I was following you."

  She looked at me, then nodded, as if to herself. "Did you see any thing?"

  "Loiosh maybe caught a glimpse of someone watching while you were at the market, but then you went into Kelly's place and I just watched the door."

  "You didn't see fit to tell anyone?"

  I blinked. Tell someone? One of them? Well, I suppose that made sense. "It didn't occur to me."

  She stared, then turned her back. Paresh was almost glaring at me. Natalia was looking away, but when I looked closer, I could see that she was almost trembling with anger. Cawti's hands were closed into fists, and she was tightening and loosening them rhythmically. I felt myself start to get angry, too. They didn't want me around at all; they certainly hadn't asked me to watch Sheryl. Now they were all at the boiling point because I hadn't. It was enough to—

  "They aren't mad at you, boss."

  "Eh?"

  "They're mad at Herth for doing it, and maybe at themselves for having allowed him to."

  "How could they have prevented it?"

  "Don't ask me."

  I turned to Paresh, who was closest. "How could you have prevented it?"

  He just shook his head. Natalia answered, though, in a strained voice, as if she could barely speak. "We could have built the movement faster and stronger, so they wouldn't have dared to do this. They should be scared of us by now."

  This wasn't the time to explain what I thought of that. Instead, I helped them carry Sheryl's body back to Kelly's place. We didn't get more than a few glances as we made our way through the darkening streets. I suppose that says something. The three of them acted as if I should feel honored that they were allowing me to help. I didn't comment on that, either. We left the body in the hallway while they went in and I left without saying anything.

  On the way over to Noish-pa's I was taken with the irrational fear that I would find him murdered. I'll save you the suspense and tell you that he was fine, but it's interesting that I felt that way.

  As I walked past the chimes he called out, "Who is there?"

  "Vlad," I said.

  We hugged and I sat down next to Ambrus. Noish-pa puttered around putting on tea and talking about the new spice dealer he'd found who still soaked absinthe in mint-water for a fortnight, the way it was supposed to be done. (A fortnight, if you're interested, is one day less than three weeks. If you think that's a peculiar period of time for which to have a special term, I can't blame you.)

  When the tea was done and appreciated and I had made a respectful hello to Ambrus while Noish-pa did the same to Loiosh, he said, "What troubles you, Vladimir?"

  "Everything, Noish-pa."

  He looked at me closely. "You haven't been sleeping well."

  "No."

  "For our family, that is a bad sign."

  "Yes."

  "What has happened?"

  "Do you remember that fellow, Franz, who was killed?"

  He nodded.

  "Well," I said, "there's another one. I was there when they found her body just now."

  He shook his head. "And Cawti is still with these people?"

  I nodded. "It's more than that, Noish-pa. They're like children who've found a Morganti dagger. They don't know what they're doing. They just keep going about their business as if they could stand up to the whole Jhereg, not to mention the Empire itself. That wouldn't bother me if Cawti weren't one of them, but I just can't protect her; not forever. I was standing outside their meeting place when the messenger showed up to tell them where to find the body—or so I assume. But he could just as easily have been a sorcerer and destroyed the entire house and everyone in it. I know the guy behind it—he'd do it. They don't seem to understand that and I can''t convince them."

  After I'd run down, Noish-pa shifted in his chair, looking thoughtful. Then he said, "You say you know this man, who is doing these things?"

  "No: well, but I know of him."

  "If he can do this, why hasn't he?"

  "It hasn't been worth his effort, yet. It costs money and he won't spend more than he has to."

  He nodded. "I'm told they had a gathering yesterday."

  "What? Oh, yeah. In a park near here."

  "Yes. They had a parade, too. It went by. There were a lot of people."

  "Yes." I thought back to the park. "A few thousand, anyway. But so what? What can they do?"

  "Perhaps you should speak to this Kelly again, try to convince him."

  I said, "Maybe."

  After a while he said, "I have never seen you so unhappy, Vladimir."

  I said, "It's my work, I suppose, one way or another. We play by rules, you know? If you leave us alone, we'll leave you alone. If somebody gets hurt who isn't part of the organization, it means he was sticking his nose where it didn't belong. That isn't our fault, that's just how it is. Kelly's people did that—they butted in where they shouldn't have. Only they didn't, really. They—I don't know. Damn them to Verra's dungeons, anyway. Sometimes I wish I could just complete Herth's job for him, and sometimes I'd like to—I don't know what. And you know, I can't even get a good enough feel for Herth to send him for a walk. I'm too tied up in this. I ought to hire someone to do it for me, but I just can't. Don't you see that? I have to—" I blinked. I'd been rambling. I'd lost Noish-pa some time before. I wondered what he thought of all that.

  He looked at me with a somber expression on his face. Loiosh flew over onto my shoulder and squeezed. I drank some more tea. Noish-pa said, "And Cawti?"

  "I don't know. Maybe she feels the same way, and that's why she found these people. She killed me, you know."

  His eyes widened. I said, "That's how we met. She was hired to kill me and she did. I've never killed an East—a human. She has. And now she's acting as if—never mind."

  He studied me, and I suppose he remembered our last conversation, because he asked, "How long have you been doing this, Vladimir? This killing of people."

  He sounded genuinely interested in the answer, so I said, "Years."

  He nodded. "It is perhaps time that you thought about it."

  I said, "Suppose I'd joined the Phoenix Guard, if they'd have me. One way or another, that's killing people for money. Or enlisted in some Dragonlord's private army, for that matter. What's the difference?"

  "Perhaps there is none. I have no answer for you, Vladimir. I only say that perhaps it is time you thought about it."

  "Yeah," I said. "I'm thinking about it."

  He poured more tea and I drank it and after a while I went home.

  Chapter 8

  …and remove dust and soot from both.

  I remember the Wall of Baritt's Tomb.

  It wasn't really a tomb, you underst
and; there was no body inside. The Serioli go in for tombs. They build them either underground or in the middle of mountains, and they put dead people in them. It seems weird to me. The Dragaerans sometimes build monuments to dead big shots like Baritt, and when they build one they call it a tomb because it looks like what the Serioli use and because Dragaerans aren't too bright.

  Baritt's Tomb was huge in every dimension, a gray slate monstrosity, with pictures and symbols carved into it. It was stuck way out in the east, high up in the Eastern Mountains near a place where Dragaerans trade with Easterners for eastern red pepper and other things. I got stuck in the middle of a battle there once. I've never forgotten how it felt. One army was made up of Easterners who died, the other was made up of Teckla who died. On the Dragaerans' side were a couple of Dragonlords who were never really in any danger. That's one memory that stays with me. No one was going to hurt Morrolan or Aliera, and they laid about themselves like pip-squeak deities. The other thing I remember was watching all of this happen and almost chewing my lip off from helplessness.

  The venture wasn't useless, you understand. I mean, Morrolan got a good fight, Sethra the Younger got Kieron's greatsword while Aliera got one more her size, and I got to learn that you can never go home. But in the battle itself there was nothing I could do unless I wanted to be one of the Teckla or one of the Easterners who were falling like ash from Mount Zerika. I didn't, so I just watched.

  That's what came back to me now. Every time I feel helpless, in fact, that memory returns to haunt me. Each scream from each wounded Easterner, or even Teckla, remains with me. I know that Dragons consider assassination to be less "honorable" than butchering Easterners, but I've never quite understood why. That battle showed me what futility was, though. So many deaths for such a small result.

  Of course, I finally did… something—but that's another tale. What I remember is the helplessness.

  Cawti wasn't speaking to me.

  It wasn't that she refused to say anything, it was more that she didn't have anything to say. I walked around the house in bare feet all morning, swatting halfheartedly at jhereg who got in my way and staring out various windows hoping one of them would show something interesting. I threw a couple of knives at our hall target and missed. Eventually I collected Loiosh and walked over to my office, being very careful all the way.