The Book of Jhereg Read online

  You must understand that Dragonlords, particularly when they are young (if you’ve been paying attention, you’ll note that Morrolan was under five hundred), tend to be—how shall I put this—excitable. Morrolan knew quite well that naming his keep what he did was somewhat pretentious, and he also knew that, from time to time, people would mock him for it. When that happened, he would challenge them to duel and then take great delight in killing them.

  Lord Morrolan, of the House of the Dragon, was one of damn few nobles who deserved the title. I have seen him show most of the attributes one expects of a noble: courtesy, kindness, honor. I would also say that he is one of the most bloodthirsty bastards I have ever met.

  * * *

  I was welcomed to Castle Black, as always, by Lady Teldra, of the House of the Issola. I don’t know what Morrolan paid her for her services as reception committee and welcoming service. Lady Teldra was tall, beautiful, and graceful as a dzur. Her eyes were as soft as an iorich’s wing, and her walk was smooth, flowing, and delicate as a court dancer’s. She held herself with the relaxed, confident poise of, well, of an issola.

  I bowed low to her, and she returned my bow along with a stream of meaningless pleasantries that made me very glad I had come and almost made me forget my mission.

  She showed me to the library, where Morrolan was seated, going over some kind of large tome or ledger, making notes as he went.

  “Enter,” said Morrolan.

  I did, and bowed deeply to him; he acknowledged.

  “What is it, Vlad?”

  “Problems,” I told him, as Lady Teldra swished back to her position near the castle entrance. “What else do you think I’d be doing here? You don’t think I’d deign to visit you socially, do you?”

  He permitted himself a smile and held out his right arm to Loiosh, who flew over to it and accepted some head-scratching. “Of course not,” he responded. “That was only an illusion of you at the party the other day.”

  “Exactly. How clever of you to notice. Is Aliera around?”

  “Somewhere. Why?”

  “The problem also involves her. And, for that matter, Sethra should be in on it too, if she’s available. It would be easier if I could explain to all of you at once.”

  Morrolan’s brows came together for a moment; then he nodded to me. “Okay, Aliera is on her way, and she’ll mention it to Sethra.”

  Aliera arrived almost immediately, and Morrolan and I stood for her. She gave us each a small bow. Morrolan was a bit tall for a Dragaeran. His cousin Aliera, however, was the shortest Dragaeran I have ever known; she could have been mistaken for a tall human. Bothered by this, it was her habit to wear gowns that were too long, and then make up the difference by levitating rather than walking. There have been those who made disparaging remarks about this. Aliera, however, was never one to hold a grudge. She almost always revivified them afterwards.

  Both Morrolan and Aliera had something of the typical Dragon facial features—the high cheekbones, rather thin faces and sharp brows of the House; but there was little else in common. Morrolan’s hair was as black as mine, whereas Aliera had golden hair—rare in a Dragaeran and almost unheard of in a Dragonlord. Her eyes were normally green, another oddity, but I’ve seen them change from green to gray, and occasionally to ice blue. When Aliera’s eyes turn blue, I’m very, very careful around her.

  Sethra arrived just after her. What can I tell you about Sethra Lavode? Those who believe in her say she has lived ten thousand years (some say twenty). Others say she is a myth. Call her life unnatural, feel her undead breath. Color her black for sorcery, color her gray for death.

  She smiled at me. We were all friends here. Morrolan carried Blackwand, which slew a thousand at the Wall of Baritt’s Tomb. Aliera carried Pathfinder, which they say served a power higher than the Empire. Sethra carried Iceflame, which embodied within it the power of Dzur Mountain. I carried myself rather well, thank you.

  We all sat down, making us equals.

  “And so, Vlad,” said Morrolan, “what’s up?”

  “My ire,” I told him.

  His eyebrows arched. “Not at anyone I know, I hope.”

  “As a matter of fact, at one of your guests.”

  “Indeed? How dreadfully unfortunate for you both. Which one, if I may ask?”

  “Do you know a certain Lord Mellar? Jhereg?”

  “Why, yes. It happens that I do.”

  “Might I inquire as to the circumstances?”

  (Giggle.) “You’re starting to sound like him, boss.”

  “Shut up, Loiosh.”

  Morrolan shrugged. “He sent word to me a few weeks ago that he’d acquired a certain book I’ve been interested in, and made an appointment to bring it by. He arrived with it . . . let me see . . . three days ago now. He has remained as my guest since that time.”

  “I presume he actually had the book?”

  “You presume correctly.” Morrolan indicated the tome he’d been reading as I entered. I looked at the cover, which bore a symbol I didn’t recognize.

  “What is it?” I asked him.

  He looked at me for a moment, as if wondering whether I was trustworthy, or perhaps whether he should allow himself to be questioned; then he shrugged.

  “Pre-Empire sorcery,” he said.

  I whistled in appreciation, as well as surprise. I glanced around the room quickly, but none of the others seemed astonished by this revelation. They had probably known all along. I keep finding things out about people, just when I think I know them. “Does the Empress know about this little hobby of yours?” I asked him.

  He smiled a little. “Somehow I keep forgetting to mention it to her.”

  “How unlike you,” I remarked.

  When he didn’t say anything, I asked, “How long have you been studying it?”

  “Pre-Empire sorcery? It’s been rather an interest of mine for a hundred years or so. In fact, the Empress undoubtedly knows; it isn’t all that much of a secret. Naturally, I’ve never acknowledged it officially, but it’s a bit like owning a Morganti blade: if they need an excuse to harass a fellow, they have one. Other than that they won’t bother one about it. Unless, of course, one starts using it.”

  “Or unless one happens to be a Jhereg,” I muttered.

  “There is that, isn’t there?”

  I turned back to the main subject. “How did Mellar end up staying here, after he delivered the book?”

  Morrolan looked thoughtful. “Would you mind terribly if I asked what this is all about?”

  I glanced around the room again and saw that Sethra and Aliera also seemed interested. Aliera was sitting on the couch, an arm thrown casually across it, a wineglass in her other hand (Where had she gotten it?) held so that the light from the large ceiling lamp reflected off it and made pretty patterns on her cheek. She surveyed me coolly from under her eyelids, her head tilted slightly.

  Sethra was looking at me steadily, intently. She had chosen a black upholstered chair which blended with her gown, and her pale white, undead skin shone out. I felt a tension in her, as if she had a feeling that something unpleasant was going on. Knowing Sethra, she probably did.

  Morrolan sat at the other end of the couch from Aliera—relaxed, and yet looking as if he were posing for a painting. I shook my head.

  “I’ll tell you if you insist,” I said, “but I’d rather find out a little more first, so I have a better idea of what I’m talking about.”

  “Or how much you feel like telling us?” asked Aliera, sweetly.

  I couldn’t repress a smile.

  “I might point out,” said Morrolan, “that if you want our help with anything, you’re going to have to give us essentially the whole story.”

  “I’m aware of that,” I said.

  Morrolan gathered in the others’ opinions with a glance. Aliera shrugged with her wineglass, as if it made no difference in the world to her. Sethra nodded, once.

  Morrolan turned back to me. “Very well, then, Vlad
. What exactly did you wish to know?”

  “How was it that Mellar happened to stay here after delivering the book? You aren’t in the habit of inviting Jhereg into your home.”

  Morrolan permitted himself another smile. “With a few exceptions,” he said.

  “Some of us are special.”

  “Shut up, Loiosh.”

  “Count Mellar,” said Morrolan, “contacted me some four days ago. He informed me that he had a volume that he thought I’d want and politely suggested that he drop by and deliver it.”

  I interrupted. “Didn’t it seem a bit odd that he’d hand it over himself, rather than have a flunky deliver it?”

  “Yes, it did occur to me as odd. But after all, such a book is illegal and I made the assumption that he didn’t want anyone to know that he had it. His employees, after all, were Jhereg. How could he trust them?” He paused for a moment, to see if I’d respond to the cut, but I let it go by. “In any case,” he continued, “the Count appeared to be a very polite fellow. I did a bit of checking around on him, and found him to be a trustworthy sort, for a Jhereg. After deciding that he probably wouldn’t make any trouble, I invited him to dine with me and a few other guests, and he accepted.”

  I glanced quickly at Aliera and Sethra. Sethra shook her head, indicating that she hadn’t been there. Aliera was looking moderately interested. She nodded.

  “I remember him,” she said. “He was dull.”

  With that ultimate condemnation, I turned back to Morrolan, who continued. “The dinner went well enough that I felt no compunction about inviting him to the general party. I will admit that a few of my coarser guests, who don’t think well of Jhereg, tried to give him trouble in one fashion or another, but he was quite friendly and went out of his way to avoid problems.

  “So I gave him an invitation to stay here for seventeen days, if he cared to. I will admit to being somewhat startled when he accepted, but I assumed he wanted a short vacation or something. What else did you wish to know?”

  I held up my hand, asking for a moment’s grace while I sorted out this new information. Could he . . .? What were the chances? How sure could Mellar be?

  “Do you have any idea,” I asked, “how he might have gotten his hands on the book in the first place?”

  Morrolan shook his head. “The one stipulation that he had for returning it was that I make no effort to find out how he got it. You see, at one time it held a place in my library. It was, as you would say, ‘lifted.’ I might add this occurred before I started making improvements in my security system.”

  I nodded. Unfortunately, it was all fitting in rather well.

  “Didn’t that make you suspicious?” I asked.

  “I assumed that it was a Jhereg who stole it, of course. But, as you should be aware of more than I, there are endless possibilities as to how this fellow could have received it, ‘legitimately,’ if you will. For example, the fellow who had taken it could have found that he couldn’t sell it safely, and Count Mellar might have done him a favor by making sure that I never found out the details of the crime. Jhereg do tend to operate that way, you know.”

  I knew. “How long ago was this book stolen?”

  “How long? Let me think . . . it would be . . . about ten years ago now, I believe.”

  “Damn,” I muttered to myself, “so Kragar was right.”

  “What is it, Vlad?” asked Aliera. She was genuinely interested, now.

  I looked at the three of them. How should I go about this? I had a sudden urge to answer, “Oh, nothing,” get up, and see how close I could get to the door before they stopped me. I didn’t really like the idea of having the three of them fly into a sudden rage—with me being the bearer of bad tidings and all. Of course, I didn’t really think any of them would hurt me, but . . .

  I tried to think of an indirect approach and got nowhere.

  “Suggestions, Loiosh?”

  “Tell ’em straight out, boss. Then teleport.”

  “I can’t teleport fast enough. Serious suggestions, Loiosh?”

  Nothing. I had found a way to shut him up. Somehow my joy at this discovery was somewhat dimmed, under the circumstances.

  “He’s using you, Morrolan,” I said, flatly.

  “‘Using’ me? How, pray tell?”

  “Mellar is on the run from the Jhereg. He’s staying here for one reason only: he knows that no Jhereg can touch him while he’s a guest in a Dragonlord’s home.”

  Morrolan’s brows came together. I felt a storm brewing over the horizon. “Are you quite certain of this?” he asked, mildly.

  I nodded. “I think,” I said slowly, “that if you were to do some checking, you’d find that it was Mellar himself who took the book, or else hired someone to take it. It all fits in. Yes, I’m sure.”

  I glanced over at Aliera. She was staring at Morrolan, with a look of shock on her face. The cute dilettante who’d been sitting there seconds ago was gone.

  “Of all the nerve!” she burst out.

  “Oh, he’s nervy all right,” I told her.

  Sethra cut in. “Vlad, how could Mellar have known that he’d be invited to stay at Castle Black?”

  I sighed inwardly. I had hoped that no one would ask me that. “That’s no trick. He must have done a study on Morrolan and found out what he’d have to do to receive an invitation. I hate to say this, Morrolan, but you are rather predictable in certain matters.”

  Morrolan shot me a look of disgust, but, fortunately, was not otherwise affected. I noticed that Sethra was gently stroking the hilt of Iceflame. I shuddered. Aliera’s eyes had turned gray. Morrolan was looking grim. He stood up and began pacing in front of us. Aliera, Sethra, and I held our peace. After a couple of trips, he said, “Are you certain he knows that the Jhereg is after him?”

  “He knows.”

  “And,” Morrolan continued, “you are convinced that he would have been aware of this when he first contacted me?”

  “Morrolan, he planned it that way. I’ll go even further; according to all the evidence we have, he’s been planning this whole thing for at least ten years.”

  “I see.” He shook his head, slowly. His hand came to rest on the hilt of Blackwand, and I shuddered again. After a time, he said, “You know how I feel concerning treatment and safety of my guests, do you not?”

  I nodded.

  “Then you are no doubt aware that we cannot harm him in any way—at least, not until his seventeen days are up.”

  I nodded again. “Unless he leaves of his own free will,” I put in.

  He looked at me, suspiciously.

  Aliera spoke, then. “You aren’t going to just let him get away with this, are you?” she asked. There was just the hint of an edge to her voice. I suddenly wished that I had Kragar’s ability to be unnoticeable.

  “For today, my dear cousin, and thirteen more days after, he is perfectly safe here. After that,” his voice suddenly turned cold and hard, “he’s dead.”

  “I can’t give you the details,” I said, “but in thirteen days he will have irreparably damaged the Jhereg.”

  Morrolan shrugged, and Aliera gave me a brushing-off motion. So what? Who cared about the Jhereg, anyway? But I noticed Sethra nodding, as if she understood.

  “And in thirteen days,” she put in, “he’ll be long gone.”

  Aliera gave a toss of her head and stood, flinging her cloak to the side and bringing her hand down to Pathfinder’s hilt. “Let him try to hide,” she said.

  “You are missing the point,” said Sethra. “I’m not doubting that you and Pathfinder will be able to track him down. What I’m saying is that with all the time he’s had, he’ll be able to, at least, make it difficult for you. It could take you days to find him if, for example, he goes out East. And in the meantime,” her voice took on a cutting edge, “he’ll have succeeded in using a Dragon to hide from the Jhereg.”

  This hit the two of them, and they didn’t like it. But there was something else that was bothering me. />
  “Aliera,” I said, “are you sure that there isn’t anything he could do to prevent you from finding him with Pathfinder? It doesn’t make sense that he’d work for this long on such an intricate scheme, only to let you and Morrolan track him down and kill him.”

  “As you may recall,” she said, “I’ve only had Pathfinder for a few months, and it’s hardly common knowledge that I have a Great Weapon at all. It’s something that he couldn’t have counted on. If I didn’t have it, he could have figured on escaping us.”

  I accepted that. Yes, it was possible. No matter how carefully you plan things, there is always the chance that you could miss something important. This is a risky business we’re in.

  Aliera turned to Morrolan. “I don’t think,” she said, “that we should wait the rest of those seventeen days.”

  Morrolan turned away.

  “Here it comes, boss.”

  “I know, Loiosh. Let’s hope Sethra can handle it—and wants to.”

  “Don’t you see,” continued Aliera, “that this, this Jhereg is trying to make you nothing more than a bodyguard from his own House?”

  “I’m quite aware of this, I assure you, Aliera,” he answered softly.

  “And that doesn’t bother you? He’s dishonoring the entire House of the Dragon! How dare he use a Dragonlord?”

  “Ha!” said Morrolan. “How dare he use me? But it’s rather obvious that he does dare, and equally obvious that he’s gotten away with it.” Morrolan’s gaze was fixed on her. He was either challenging her or waiting to see if she would challenge him. Either way, I decided, it didn’t much matter.

  “He hasn’t gotten away with it yet,” said Aliera, grimly.

  “And what exactly does that mean?” asked Morrolan.

  “Just what it sounds like. He hasn’t gotten away with anything. He’s assuming that, just because he’s a guest, he can insult you as much as he wants, and no one will touch him.”

  “And he is correct,” said Morrolan.

  “Is he?” asked Aliera. “Is he really? Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure,” said Morrolan.

  Aliera matched stares with him for a while, then she said, “If you choose to ignore the insult to your honor, that’s your business. But when an insult is given to the entire House of the Dragon, it’s my business, too.”