I noticed he was trembling. Good. I no longer was.
“How much did he pay you, dead man?”
(Gulp) “Pay me? Who—?”
“You know,” I said conversationally, “you’ve been a rotten gambler for as long as I’ve known you. That’s what got you into this in the first place. Now, how much did he pay you?”
“B-b-b-but no one—”
I reached forward suddenly and grabbed his throat with my left hand. I felt my lips drawing up into a classic Jhereg sneer. “You are the only one, besides me, authorized to hire anyone in this place. There was a new waiter here today. I didn’t hire him, therefore you did. It happened that he was an assassin. As a waiter, he was even worse than the fools you usually hire to drive customers away. Now, I think his main qualifications as a waiter were the gold Imperials you got for hiring him. I want to know how much.”
He tried to shake his head in denial, but I was holding it too tightly. He started to speak the denial, but I squeezed that option shut. He tried to swallow; I relaxed enough to let him. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then opened it and said, “I don’t know what you—”
I discovered, with some surprise, that I had never resheathed the dagger that I’d drawn when first attacked. It was a nice tool; mostly point, and about seven inches long. It fitted well into my right hand, which is moderately rare for a Dragaeran weapon. I used it to poke him in the sternum. A small spot of blood appeared, soaking through the white chef’s garment. He gave a small scream and seemed about to pass out. I was strongly reminded of our first conversation, when I’d let him know that I was his new partner and carefully outlined what would happen if the partnership didn’t work out. His House was Jhegaala, but he was doing a good Teckla imitation.
He nodded, then, and managed to hand me a purse from next to him. I didn’t touch it.
“How much is in it?” I asked.
He gurgled and said, “A th-thousand gold, M-milord.”
I laughed shortly. “That isn’t even enough to buy me out,” I said. “Who approached you? Was it the assassin, the Demon, or a flunky?”
He closed his eyes as if he wanted me to disappear. I’d oblige him momentarily.
“It was the Demon,” he said in a whisper.
“Really!” I said. “Well, I’m flattered that he takes such an interest in me.”
He started whimpering.
“And he guaranteed that I’d be dead, right?”
He nodded miserably.
“And he guaranteed protection?”
He nodded again.
I shook my head sadly.
I called Kragar in to teleport us back to the office. He glanced at the body, his face expressionless.
“Shame about that fellow killing himself, isn’t it?” he said.
I had to agree.
“Any sign of guards?”
“No. They’ll get here eventually, but no one is in any hurry to call them, and this isn’t their favorite neighborhood to patrol.”
“Good. Let’s get back home.”
He started working the teleport. I turned back to the body.
“Never,” I told it, “trust anyone who calls himself a demon.”
The walls vanished around us.
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9
“You can’t put it together again unless you’ve torn it apart first.”
Over the years, I have developed a ritual that I go through after an attempt has been made to assassinate me. First, I return to my office by the fastest available means. Then I sit at my desk and stare off into space for a little while. After that I get very, very sick. Then I return to my desk and shake for a long time.
Sometime in there, while I’m alone and shaking, Cawti shows up, and she takes me home. If I haven’t eaten, she feeds me. If it is practical, she puts me to bed.
This was the fourth time that I had almost had my tale of years snipped at the buttocks. It wasn’t possible for me to sleep this time, since Aliera was expecting me. When I had recovered sufficiently to actually move, I went into the back room to do the teleport. I am a good enough sorcerer to do it myself when I have to, although generally I don’t bother. This time I didn’t feel like calling in anyone else. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them . . . Well, maybe it was.
I took out my enchanted dagger (a cheap, over-the-counter enchanted dagger, but better than plain steel), and began carefully drawing the diagrams and symbols that aren’t at all necessary for a teleport, but do help settle one’s mind down when one is feeling that one’s magic might not be all it ought to be.
Cawti kissed me before I left and seemed to hang onto me a bit more than she had to. Or maybe not. I was feeling extraordinarily sensitive, just at the moment.
The teleport worked smoothly and left me in the courtyard. I spun quickly as I arrived, almost losing lunch in the process. No, there wasn’t anyone behind me.
I walked toward the great double doors of the castle, looking carefully around. The doors swung open before me, and I had to repress an urge to dive away from them.
“Boss, would you settle down?”
“No.”
“No one is going to attack you at Castle Black.”
“So what?”
“So what’s the point in being so jumpy?”
“It makes me feel better.”
“Well, it bothers hell out of me.”
“Tough.”
“Take it easy, all right? I’ll take care of you.”
“I’m not doubting you, it’s just that I feel like being jumpy, all right?”
“Not really.”
“Then lump it.”
He was right, however. I resolved to relax just a bit as I nodded to Lady Teldra. She pretended that there was nothing odd in my having her walk in front of me by five paces. I trusted Lady Teldra, of course, but this could be an impostor, after all. Well, it could, couldn’t it?
I found myself in front of Aliera’s chambers. Lady Teldra bowed to me and left. I clapped, and Aliera called to me to come in. I opened the door, letting it swing fully open, while stepping to the side. Nothing came out at me, so I risked a look inside.
Aliera was sitting by the back of the bed, staring off into space. I noted that, curled up as she was, she could still draw Pathfinder. I scanned the room carefully.
Entering, I moved a chair so my back was against the wall. Aliera’s eyes focused on me, and she looked puzzled.
“Is something wrong, Vlad?”
“No.”
She looked bemused, then quizzical. “You’re quite sure,” she said.
I nodded. If I were going to take someone out from that position, I thought, how would I go about it? Let’s see . . .
Aliera raised her hand suddenly, and I recognized the gesture as the casting of a spell.
Loiosh hissed with indignation as I hit the floor rolling, and Spellbreaker snapped out.
I didn’t feel any of the tingling that normally accompanies Spellbreaker’s intercepting magic aimed at me, however. I lay there, looking at Aliera, who was watching me carefully.
“What’s gotten into you, anyway?” asked Aliera.
“What was that spell?”
“I wanted to check your genetic background,” she said drily. “I thought I’d look for some latent Teckla genes.”
I cracked up. This just broke me up completely. I sat on the floor, my body shaking with laughter, and felt tears stream down my face. Aliera, I’m sure, was trying to figure out whether to join me, or to cure me.