“Oh, sorry.”
“Um. Well?”
He hesitated. “You’re older,” he finally said.
“Yeah, that happens.”
“I know. Just, faster than I’d thought it would.”
“That’s two of us.”
“Sorry.”
“No problem; I needed cheering up anyway. Besides, I don’t think old age is what’s going to get me.”
“It is if it slows you down.”
“You are just full of cheer, aren’t you?”
“Lord Cheerful, that’s what they call me.”
“All right, Lord Cheerful. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to find out who is trying to do what. I take it you’re on that?”
“I’m not hopeful, Vlad. This obviously goes all the way up to the Jhereg Council. They aren’t easy to crack.”
“Go in through the Orca.”
He nodded. “All right. I’ll take a run at it. What are you going to be doing?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Give me a few minutes to think about it.”
“Take all the time you need.” He sat back in his chair. I had to admit, he looked like he belonged there.
“Supercilious,” I said. “That’s the word I’m looking for.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I had a good teacher.”
There was nothing to say to that, so I stared out what used to be my window. Sometimes I’d found the answer to a problem on the wall of the building across the way. It didn’t work this time; I guess I had to be sitting behind the desk.
“Hungry?” he said.
“Come to think of it, yeah.”
“Should I round up bodyguards or should I send out for something?”
“Send out. I don’t trust your secretary; I think he’d take a bribe.”
“What are you hungry for?”
“Pretty much anything.”
He yelled for Yenth and instructed him to have lunch brought in. “And get yourself some moldy cheese and vinegar,” he added. Yenth left with a smirk he must have learned from Kragar.
“How are things here?”
“Not like I expected.”
“Oh?”
“You have to keep pushing. If you aren’t pushing, you’re being pushed.”
“That’s true, I guess.”
“It gets, uh, tiring.”
“If you want a break, we can swap places.”
“If we swapped places, neither of us would have a problem: you’d enjoy pushing, and the Jhereg would never notice me.”
“Good point.”
Presently, Yenth came back and delivered a big box containing pastries from a vendor I remembered with longing, as well as a bottle of wine, a selection of fruit, and a bucket of flavored ice from the local sorcery shop. I hadn’t had the flavored ice in years—I smiled when I saw it and wondered why I never treated myself to stuff like that anymore. Yenth held up a steaming pastry and said, “Moldy cheese and vinegar. They made it special for me.”
“Get out of here,” said Kragar.
I bit into a pastry and burned my mouth. Chicken, maize, tubers, and a thick gravy that was sweeter than I’d have made it but still good. Kragar gestured, and the wine tongs began to glow red.
“You’ve been practicing.”
“Only the easy stuff.” He opened the wine and poured us each a glass. It was very dark and strongly flavored. We ate in silence, each with our own thoughts. Loiosh shifted on my shoulder; Rocza hissed softly at him.
“What do you know about Norathar’s appointment as Warlord?”
Kragar looked up. “Vlad, you think I pay attention to Court politics?”
“I think you pay attention to everything.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I’m not sure. She was acting funny.”
“You saw her?”
“Yes. I got the feeling there was something odd about the appointment.”
“It isn’t the first time the Heir has been Warlord during a Phoenix Reign, but it hasn’t happened much.”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Two reasons: The second is continuity—the more Court officials who are continued over between reigns, the smoother the transition is.”
“Right. Makes sense. And the first?”
He looked at me.
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. Sort of begging for a coup, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “What was funny about how Norathar was acting?”
“Eh. Like she wanted to tell me things, but didn’t. Like she was on both sides at once.”
“Just what about that seems anything other than predictable?”
“I know, I know. But there was something else to it.”
He shrugged. “Like, maybe she knew what was going on, and wanted to tell you, but had, oh, I don’t know, sworn an oath that prevented it, or something like that, maybe?”
I called him something my grandfather wouldn’t have approved of. “Want to spend some more time showing how smart you are?”
“Sure.”
“What is it she wanted to tell me?”
He waved his hands over the desk, like a jongleur in the market about to make something vanish “with no trace of sorcery whatsoever!” He said, “Mmmm . . . the spirits are being obstinate. I must cajole them. Have you some token I may give to them so they—”
I made a few suggestions about what sort of token I had and what he and his spirits could do with it.
He said, “It’s no secret that you’re trying to help Aliera. Norathar has information that would be useful. She can’t give it to you. What’s the big mystery?”
“There are two: The first is, what does she know that she can’t tell me? The second is, how can I find it out? Got an answer for either of those, O Mystic One?”
“You could have Daymar do a mind-probe.” He smirked.
“The information wouldn’t do me much good if I were ground up into Vlad-meal after getting it.”
“Everything has to be perfect for you.”
“I’m just that kind of guy.”
“So, what’s the next step?”
“I wait and see what Kiera can tell me. After that, I’ll see. Kill someone, I suppose.”
“You’re so romantic. That’s why you get all the girls.”
“It’s such a trial figuring out where to put them.” I stood up and started pacing.
“It’s good to see you again,” said Kragar.
I stopped, looked at him, wondered if he was being sarcastic, if I really missed being where he was, and if he’d yet gotten a good enough offer to sell me out. “Thanks,” I said. “You too.”
“Your food’s getting cold.”
I got busy with the food again, feeding some to Loiosh and Rocza. When I get distracted from eating, it’s a pretty good sign that things have gotten difficult. When Loiosh and Rozca fail to remind me, it’s an even better sign.
I finished the pastry, drank some wine, and said, “I’ll tell you what I can’t figure out: It’s too small.”
“Small?”
“For the Empress. The way I’ve been reading it, the Empress got into a mess because some soldiers no one knows anything about killed a few Teckla no one cares anything about. So she arranged this prosecution of Aliera to distract attention, and Aliera is being a good soldier and letting herself be sacrificed.”
“Well, she was the Warlord when it happened, so maybe she feels she deserves it.”
“True, but beside the point. I’m saying Zerika wouldn’t do that just to save herself from some unpleasantness. Even from a lot of unpleasantness.”
“I don’t know her.”
“I do, sort of.”
“Okay, Vlad. Say you’re right. What does it mean?”
“It means there is more at stake than what happens to Zerika. For her to do something like that, she has to be preventing something much worse than anything that can happen to her personally.”