Rascha approached before we started across and said, "Taltos, you're a bit shorter than the rest; if you want to wait for a wagon you can."
"I'm fine," I said.
"Boss, I'm never going to figure you out."
"Shut up."
The Captain led the way, dismounting and leading his horse across, then we moved out, and got wet and cold and fought the current, and climbed up over the rocks on the other side and moved back about a hundred yards from the bank. Eventually fires were lit, and we put up our tent by their light, and they served the food, and we sat around the fires getting warm and dry, which translated to happy, which in turn translated to not too discontented.
At the next fire over, they were playing S'yang Stones, and I knew that Aelburr would be there, maybe following my advice and winning, but more likely playing his own game and losing. I thought about playing myself, but sitting by the fire was too pleasant. Napper was off somewhere; the rumor was he'd formed a liaison with a woman in another company. I ended up sitting next to Tibbs, who kept trying to find humorous anecdotes that I thought were funny, and failing. When he got to the one about the headless private carrying the legless corporal back to the physicker, Loiosh said, "Aw, c'mon, Boss. That was funny."
"If you say so," I said.
"If you stay in the army long, Boss, your sense of humor is going to vanish entirely."
We were joined by a young-looking Dragonlord; in the flickering of the campfire he seemed little more than a boy. Tibbs said, "Hey, Dunn. Where have you been?"
"Fishing."
"Catch anything?"
"No."
"Told you."
"I had to try."
"Yeah, you did, didn't you? This is Vlad. Vlad, Duntt."
"I've seen you."
"A nice guy, Boss; he's fed me."
"All right, Loiosh. I won't kill him, then."
Dunn and I exchanged greetings. Tibbs said, "What are you looking so glum about?"
Dunn said, "Crown says I still can't carry the colors next time we go into action."
"Congratulations," said Tibbs. "Why are you so all-fired anxious to be killed?"
Dunn didn't answer. Tibbs shook his head and remarked, "You should have been a Dzur."
"I'd challenge you to a duel for that," said Dunn, "but there aren't enough of you."
Tibbs gave a short, barking laugh.
Rascha came by about then, wished us all a good evening, and said, "You may want to sharpen your weapons tonight."
Tibbs said, "You think we'll see action tomorrow?"
"Nothing's for certain, but it looks likely."
We nodded and thanked her for the information. I went back to the tent and borrowed Aelburr's whetstone, then returned to the fire and put it to use.
Loiosh said, "What about the whole plan to bug out when the fighting starts, Boss?"
"Shut up, Loiosh."
Interlude: Defend
I spent last night with Cawti, an Eastern girl who has agreed to marry me. She has a wonderful smile and a good hand with a dagger, and she knows how to listen. We lay in my bed, pleasantly exhausted, her hair all over my chest and my arm around her shoulder, and I spoke with her about the proposal from Sethra the Younger. She listened without a word until I ran down, then she said, "And?"
"And what?" I said.
"And why did you expect anything different?"
"Well, I don't suppose I did."
"Are you still angry?"
"Not so much. Like you said, I should have expected it."
"And what about her proposal?"
"What about it? Can you imagine me accepting it?"
"Certainly."
"You can?"
"I have a great imagination."
"Among other things, yes. But"
"But, if she hadn't been so annoying, what would you have thought about it?"
"Why should I care?"
"Aliera."
"What about her?"
"She's why you should care."
I sat up just a little, found a glass of a very dry white wine that we'd kept cold by setting it in a bucket of ice. I drank some, then held the glass for Cawti. She squeezed my shoulder by way of thanks, and I said, "You think I owe her something?"
"Don't you?"
"Hmmmm. Yeah. What with one thing and another, I suppose so."
"Then you should probably tell her about the offer, so she can decide for herself."
"I hate the idea of doing a service for Sethra the Younger."
"Yes, I know. I hardly blame you, but … "
"Yes, but."
The wine went down nicely. A welcome breeze came through the window.
"I think it's going to rain," said Cawti.
"I'll speak to Aliera tomorrow," I said.
"Would you like me to come along?"
"Very much," I said.
"All right. I think I'm sleepy now."
"Sleeping comes highly recommended as a cure for that."
"You think? Next you'll tell me that eating is a good cure for hunger."
"Temporary, but it'll take care of the symptoms. Are you hungry?"
"Yes, but I'm more sleepy."
"Then we'll have breakfast tomorrow. One problem at a time."
"Good idea," she said sleepily, and nestled into my shoulder.
"I wonder what Aliera will say. She doesn't think much more of Sethra the Younger than I do."
Cawti didn't answer. If she wasn't already asleep she was close to it. I set the wineglass down next to the table, then pulled the covers up. Outside, it began to rain. I thought about shuttering the windows, but it was too much work, and the rain smelled nice.
That was yesterday. This morning Cawti and I found Aliera in the library of Castle Black. Going there today, after spending so much time thinking about, remembering, those first few times I'd been within the walls of that peculiar place, caught me up. I looked at it as if seeing it anewas I'd first seen it years ago before war and love and war. To me Castle Black has always seemed palatial, with the grand, sweeping stairway and the three great chandeliers lighting the enormous hallway, all of them decorated by artwork one might expect to find in the Imperial Palace itself, artwork that is violent and beautiful at once, as, I suppose, are the Dragons at their best.
At their worst they are brutal and ugly.
Aliera said, "Greetings, Vlad, Cawti."
We both bowed. Cawti said, "How is Norathar?"
"Adjusting. Becoming reconciled. She'll make a good Empress."
I glanced at my betrothed, but if the subject was still painful for her, which I was certain it was, she gave no sign of it. Every once in a while I wondered how the House of the Dragon felt about its next Empress having once been a Jhereg assassin, but chances were good I'd be long dead by the time the Cycle turned, so I didn't give it that much thought, and it was one of the things Cawti and I still had trouble talking about so I don't know how she felt about it.
I said, "I have a proposal for you."
Aliera put down her bookI didn't catch the titleand tilted her head. "Yes?" she said, in a tone that indicated, "This is bound to be good."
"It comes from Sethra the Younger."
Her green eyes narrowed and appeared slightly grey. "Sethra the Younger," she repeated.
"Yes."
"What does she want?"
"Kieron's greatsword."
"Indeed? The sword of Kieron the Conqueror. She wants me to give it to her. Well, isn't that sweet."
"I'm just passing on a message."
"Uh-huh. And what is she offering for it?"
"I think you can guess, Aliera."
Aliera studied me, then slowly nodded. "Yes, I suppose I can, at that. Why don't you both sit down."
She looked at us, her grey eyes squinting. She held her wineglass, a fine piece of cut crystal, so that the chandelier made a rainbow through it that decorated the dark wood table next to her.
"What do you two think?" she said at last.
"We're delighted, of course," I said. "We'd like nothing better than to have Sethra the Younger butcher a few thousand Easterners."
She nodded. "There's more to this than that, however."