So, back to the beginning. I’d have to wait for Kiera to get some confirmations, and wait for Kragar to learn a few details about the Left Hand. In the meantime—
“Vlad?”
“Hmmm?”
“I asked if there was anything else.”
“Oh, sorry. No. Thank you.”
She nodded and I took my leave. If the fates loved me, I’d make it back to my room alive, and Kiera would be waiting there. I did, and she wasn’t—make of that what you will.
I unloaded a few pounds of hardware next to the bed, and stretched out on it. It felt wonderful for about ten seconds, then I gradually became aware of each bruise. Once, long before and in a different part of the world, I’d removed my amulets to perform a simple spell to get rid of some aches and pains. It had proved a mistake for two reasons: It almost got me killed, and it had given Loiosh a chance to say I told you so. I was willing to risk the first, but I’d rather hurt than take a chance on the second.
I didn’t fall asleep, but to take my mind off how much I hurt, I spent some time wishing someone would bring me something to eat. Loiosh picked up on the thought, and made an offer of sorts which I rejected; I wasn’t that hungry.
“Boss, do we have a plan?”
“We will.”
“Oh, good. I feel so much better when we have a plan.”
“In that case, maybe you come up with one this time. One that doesn’t involve a dead teckla.”
“Division of labor, Boss. That’s what makes this work, you know.”
“Yeah, I keep forgetting that. Division of labor. I come up with the plans, and you laugh at them.”
“Exactly.”
I closed my eyes, the better to concentrate on everything that hurt. No, I don’t know why I do these things; stop asking.
After a while, I heard a clap at the door and at almost the same moment Loiosh said, “It’s Kiera.”
Now, there was good news at a good time. “Please bring your sneaky and most welcome self inside,” I called out.
The door opened and she came in, looking worried. “I heard you were beaten,” she said.
“How did you hear that? Are there more of you than I know about?”
She gave me a reproachful look.
“Sorry,” I said.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked me over carefully. Loiosh flew over to her, and she absently scratched under his chin while she studied me. “They did a pretty thorough job, it seems,” she said judiciously.
“I guess. Want to tell me what you learned?”
“Just what you expected me to.”
My heart skipped a beat. Yes, I’d expected it. But I hadn’t really, well, expected it. “Details?”
“Minutes of a meeting called by Her Majesty to discuss the massacre in Tirma.”
“And?”
“The list of those present include the representative of the Jhereg.”
“Is that usual for something like this?”
“No.”
“All right. And the representative said?”
“Nothing that was recorded.”
“Then—?”
“Did they hit you in the head a lot?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
She made a disgusted sound. “Work it out anyway.”
“They wouldn’t have had the Jhereg representative there, except to hear something, or to inform the Empress of something.”
“Yes.”
“And either way, it means the Jhereg has their hand in this.”
“Which you knew.”
“Suspected, then later had confirmed by—uh, I shouldn’t say.”
“All right. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why is the Jhereg involved.”
“Two reasons. I can’t talk about one, and I don’t need to talk about the other.”
“You don’t need to? What do you mean?”
“Kiera, have you been beaten too, lately?”
Her eyes narrowed as she concentrated, then she said, “Oh. You think it’s all about you?”
“I always think it’s all about me. When I’m wrong I look stupid; when I’m right, I’m still alive to keep looking stupid.”
“It’s a little hard to believe,” she said.
“Why?”
“Engineering a massacre of peasants, embroiling the Empress in—”
“No, no. I don’t think that was about me. That just gave them the opportunity.”
“Ah. You mean, not the problem, but the solution.”
“Yes.”
“The Jhereg knew that if Aliera was in trouble, you’d find out and come back and they could get to you. They were doing something else involving the Empress, and just grabbed the opportunity to pull you into it.”
“Pretty much. You know the Jhereg. Does that seem farfetched?”
“No,” she said with no hesitation.
“It doesn’t to me, either.”
“Do you have an idea of how to deal with it?”
“One. Tell the Empress.”
“Vlad, do you know what happens if you do that?”
“Something pretty unpleasant for the Jhereg. Do I care?”
“What about for the Empire?”
“Do I care about that?”
“And for Zerika?”
“Like she cared how unpleasant it was for Aliera?”
“She did, you know.”
“Stop, Kiera, before you move me to tears. Oh, wait, no, that’s the pain from the beating I got for asking questions about how much she cared.”
“I don’t think that’s why you got beaten.”
“No, neither do I. I think it was because it’s considered rude for Easterners who are also Jhereg to go asking questions about the Warlord.”
“Maybe.”
“You have another idea?”
“No, just a feeling.”
“A feeling.”
“The beating. It doesn’t feel right.” I started to make an obvious remark but she cut me off. “No, listen, Vlad. I’m serious. Try to reconstruct the sequence in your head.”
“It isn’t that hard. I was asking questions about Norathar, and—”
“Of whom?”
“Eh? Well, Norathar, first of all. And Cawti. And a servant in the Palace, who first told me Norathar was now Warlord.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Is it? Where did these Dragonlords hear about it?”
“I assume from the Teckla. Or, indirectly from the Teckla.”
“That’s what’s bothering me.”
“You didn’t even know about it.”
She didn’t deign to answer that. “Imagine how they heard it.”
“The Teckla gossips to one of his friends, the Dragonlord overhears it—”
“When is the last time you knew of a Dragon listening to a Teckla’s gossip?”
I shrugged, which sent pain shooting from my rib to the opposite shoulder. “Okay, then the Teckla mentions it to someone who someone will listen. Snake up a rope, as they say.”
“When did you speak to the Teckla?”
“Yesterday.”
“So, how long did this all take?”
“Kiera, how long does it take?”
“I’m not saying it’s impossible. I’m just suspicious.”
“What do you think happened instead?”
“I would very much like to know.”
“If you’re offering to look into it for me, you know I’m not going to turn you down.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, cross-legged, which was only strange when I thought about it later. “I’m not sure,” she said at last. “The fact is, I don’t want to look into it, I want to figure it out.”