A little later Aibynn returned, his drum carefully wrapped in thick, soft cloth. He set it against the wall and sat down.
"How did it go in court today?"
"Great " he said. "The Empress wants us back."
"Congratulations."
"What were you doing there"
"Recovering my wife."
"Oh " He looked over at her, sitting on the longchair and reading her paper. "Good thing you got her."
She smiled at him, stood up, and said, "I believe I will bathe now."
"Mind if I watch?" I said.
She turned the smile toward me. "Yes," she said, and walked into the bathroom. I heard the sound of wood being put into the stove and of water being put on to boil. Aibynn began playing his drum, so I couldn't hear the rustle of fabric and the splashing, which was just as well, I suppose. His fingers were a blur, the beater was another. The drum hummed, then moaned, then sang, with pops and clicks emerging as if they were part of the room. I fell into it and managed not to think for a while. Maybe I should learn to drum.
An hour later she came out in her red robe, Fenarian embroidery around the bottom, tied with a white cloth. The combination enhanced her dark eyes. She sat down again in the longchair. I spoke over the low moan of Ai-bynn's drum. "Are you going back to South Adrilankha tomorrow? ' '
"Yes as long as I'm out, I'm going to work to force the Empire to release Kelly and the rest of our people."
Do you think you can?" "I don't see any other option." I thought about the Empress, about being bound in cords of necessity, and said, "Do you know what they say about cornering a dzur?"
"Yes, I do. What do they say about killing thousands of people in a war that isn't any of our business? What do they say about incarcerating us in their dungeons? What do they say about starving us into submission? What do they say about their Phoenix Guards beating and killing us?"
"A point," I said.
"I'll be gone all day tomorrow."
"Yes, I suppose you will."
"Good night, Vlad."
"Good night, Cawti."
She went into the bedroom. I moved over to the long-chair and sat down on the soft darrskin, stretched over a hardwood frame. It was still warm where she'd sat in it. Aibynn stopped playing, looked at me, expressed a wish that I'd sleep without dreaming, then put his drum down and went into the blue room. I stared out at the night through the window and felt the warm breeze that smelled just a little of the sea. Loiosh and Rocza flew over and sat on my lap. I scratched their respective chins, and presently I fell asleep.
I had a dream I don't really remember, which is almost the same as not dreaming. I think the growing light in the room and the voice in my head were both worked into it. The ugly taste in my mouth was not. I hate talking to people, even psionically, before I've had a chance to rinse my mouth out. "Who is it?"
"It's your trusty and true assistant. "
"Joy. What is it, Kragar?"
"Glowbug just got offered six thousand for looking the other way while some nice fellow sends you on to your next life. "
"Six thousand? Just for looking the other way? Verra. I've come up in the world."
I get the impression that he was tempted. "
"He 'd be stupid if he wasn 't. Why didn't he take it?"
"He thinks you're lucky. On the other hand, he's worried"
"Sensible guy. Let me wake up and and I'll get back to you."
"Okay."
I rinsed out my mouth and gave myself a quick wash.
"I think we're in trouble this time, Loiosh."
"It's a lot of money, boss. Someone's bound to go for it."
"Yep."
I started water for my morning klava and checked on the other occupants of the house. Cawti was gone, Aibynn was still sleeping. I put a log into the stove and used sorcery to light it, then set a couple of my rolls in it, got out butter and some ginger preserves. I poured the water over the ground klava, took the rolls out, prepared them, dumped heavy cream and honey in the klava, sat down, ate, drank, and thought.
Someone with the resources Boralinoi had could get me, eventually. Sooner or later, someone on my staff would give. Hell, with the kind of money he was throwing around, I might have sold out one of my own bosses at one time. Personal loyalty only gets you so far in this business; cash gets you further. There were three ways I could think of to prevent him from buying someone off and setting me up. The first, to kill Boralinoi before he could get to me, was a fine idea but impractical; it would take two or three days, at least, to even get all the information on him that I would need. For the second, outbidding him I just didn't have the resources. That left the third, which would have several potential repercussions that needed serious consideration. I had another roll.
I took my time eating and thinking. When I was done, I put the plate into the bucket drew some more water and got sticky stuff off my face and hands.
"Kragar. Kragar. Kragar. " "Who is it?"
"Master Mustache himself. When can you have everyone in the office?"
"What does 'everyone' mean this time, Vlad?" "All my enforcers, Melestav, you." Is it urgent enough that they should break off whatever they're doing?"
"Might as well. There isn't any time of day or night when some of them won't be busy doing something."
"I guess. How 'bout an hour?"
"I'll see you then."
"Want an escort?"
"No. Just make sure there's no one around the office who might want to do me injury."
"Okay, boss. We'll be there in an hour." I finished dressing, made certain of all of my concealed weaponry, and collected both Loiosh and Rocza. Aibynn was up by then, but I was pretty distracted so we didn't converse much. I send Loiosh outside first to make sure the street was clear, then carefully teleported to a spot within a quick dash of my office, but that held possibilities for other escapes if that route was blocked. It turned out to be unnecessary; except for the usual wave of nausea, the teleport was uneventful. I ducked inside the psychedelics shop that was a front for the gambling room that was a front for my office, and there I waited until I felt a little better. I went back and into my office.
They were there, twelve enforcers, Kragar, and Melestav. We were crammed into the area outside of my office and Kragar's, in front of Melestav's desk. I sat on the edge of his desk and considered the fourteen killers here assembled. Glowbug squatted against the wall, looking intense. Melestav, whose desk I'd usurped, stood near me protectively, looking at the others as if he wasn't quite sure I was safe, which was possible. There was Chimov, in the middle, waiting patiently. And the others. Stick would have grabbed a chair in front, and his long legs would have stretched out to the side, his arms folded and he would have been looking curious and ironic.
An anger began to build up inside me but I had no time for it now; I concentrated on those who were there. These were the men who kept my business going, who, just by existing, prevented Jhereg with hungry eyes from creeping into my area or trying to push me around. These were the men who took turns guarding my back when I'd walk around my area, and inspecting meeting places to make certain everything was safe. If I couldn't count on them, I might as well kill myself.
For the first time, as I studied them studying me, it seemed odd that there were no women among them. It has been Jhereg custom, as long as the Organization has existed that most of the women were sorcerers, and worked in what was referred to as the Left Hand of the Jhereg, or, informally, the Bitch Patrol. When they didn't refer to us as the Right Hand of the Jhereg, they had many colorful names for us that I see no need to go into. The two organizations cooperate, but there is no love lost between them. Once, many years before, I'd been told by an Oracle that my own left hand would bring me to the brink of ruin, and I'd wondered if the Oracle referred to the Left Hand of the Jhereg.