"Directing troops? In the city?"
"No, she's putting together an invasion force for Greenaere."
"Oh. That's a relief, anyway."
"Why?"
I shook my head. It would be too hard to explain. "How much have you heard about what's going on?"
He shrugged. "Disorders. I was at the Imperial Palace during the second attack, and throughout the siege, so I mostly know about activities there, but I heard at least some of the rest. Zerika says things should be under control by tomorrow morning."
"Under control," I repeated. I looked at Noish-pa, but this time he was looking away." "Yes" continued Morrolan. "Sethra has established order in—"
"Sethra! Lavode?"
"Sethra the Younger."
"How did she end up in command?"
"The brigadier of the Phoenix Guards resigned yesterday over some dispute with the Empress. I don't know the details."
"Maybe he didn't like the idea of slaughtering thousands of helpless Easterners."
"Helpless? Vlad, weren't you listening? There were attacks on the Imperial Palace. They laid siege to it. They actually threatened the Empress—"
"Oh, come now. She could have teleported out anytime she wanted to."
"That isn't the point, Vlad. Threatening the sanctity of-"
"Can we change the subject?"
"You asked," he said stiffly.
"Yeah. Sorry." Loiosh flew back to my shoulder and nuzzled my ear. I said, "What about the war?"
"Are you sure you want to hear about it?"
"I'm trying to figure out how to get Cawti out of there. The first thing I need to know is what's going on with the Empress, so I can decide how to try to influence her. Does that make sense?"
He seemed startled; I guess that sort of thinking wasn't what he expected of me. Then he said, "Very well. The Empire is still trying to put together an invasion fleet to attack the Greenaere and Elde alliance"
"Trying?"
He looked grim. "A task force sailing from Adrilankha Northport in preparation for an attack on Greenaere was itself attacked by several alliance warships, and three of them were sunk. I don't know how big they were, or how many were lost, or—why are you smiling?"
Why was I smiling?
I took a sip of wine without tasting it. I had never particularly cared about the Empire one way or the other; that is, it was there, I lived in it and ignored it. Even the onset of war hadn't inspired any particular feelings in the sense of who I hoped would win the conflict. But now, I realized, I wanted the Empire to be hurt. Very much I wanted them to be hurt. I would love it if the Empire was tumbled, inconceivable as that was. I wanted to see the Ob rolling, broken, on the ground. I wanted to see the mighty Palace, with all its pillars of silver, and its walls cut of black marble, rooms in which ten Eastern families could live, burned to the ground.
I remembered only flashes of the last two days in South Adrilankha, but there were looks on faces that I knew I'd remember as long as I lived, and if the only way to ease the pain was the destruction of the Empire, then that's what I wanted. In a life governed by hatreds, this hatred was a new one. Maybe it was what Cawti had felt all along. Maybe now I could understand her.
I tossed aside dreams of the Empire fallen; such dreams would not win my wife's release. In fact, the best would be if I could find a way to...
If I could ...
"Nothing," I said. "I think I know how to save Cawti, though."
My grandfather looked at me sharply. Morrolan said, "Oh?"
"Do you think you'd be willing to help? I will also need Aliera's help, and, I think, Sethra's. And possibly Daymar's."
"What do you have in mind?"
"I'll explain when we're all together. Say, this evening-I should warn you, it will be dangerous."
He me a look of contempt. I'd only said it to annoy him anywav. "I will help you," said Morrolan.
"Thank you" I said.
My grandfather spoke for the first time. He said, "Vladimir, will you travel again through the fairy-land?" "Excuse me?"
"Travel through the fairy-land, the way we did to come here."
"Oh Yes, I expect so."
He nodded thoughtfully and spoke to Morrolan. "I see that you practice the Art."
"Yes," said Morrolan. "I am a witch."
"Have you devices I might use? All of mine are lost."
"Certainly," said Morrolan. "I'll have Teldra bring you to my workshop."
"Thank you," said my grandfather.
Morrolan nodded and said, "Aliera is here. Shall I make contact with Sethra and Daymar?"
"Yes," I said. "Let's get started."
A few minutes later he reported that everyone would be assembled for dinner that evening, which gave me several hours to kill. I realized that I was desperately tired and asked Lady Teldra to show me to a room. I gave my grandfather a kiss, bowed to Morrolan, and stumbled to the chambers I'd been assigned.
Before I fell asleep, I got hold of Kragar and said, "What's the news from Jhereg center?"
"You are, Vlad."
"Do tell."
"Three more offers, all refused. Whether they'd have been refused if anyone knew where you were, I don't know."
"Okay. Do you have the information I wanted?"
"Yes, indeed. And someone knows I'm collecting it. "
"Oh"
"I was offered twenty thousand to convince you to collect it in person."
"Twenty thousand? Why didn't you take it?"
"I didn't think I could talk you into coming for it without getting you suspicious."
"Hmmm. You're probably right. Can you send it by messenger to Castle Black?"
"Easy."
"Good. Any, um, disturbances in the area?"
"Not to speak of. Everything pretty much passed us by. We were lucky. "
"Yes," I said. Lucky. Images came bubbling up like Teckla to a feast, but I shoved them back down. No, now was not the time for thinking about that. Maybe there'd never be a time for thinking about that, but now I was tired.
"How are things on your end?" said Kragar.
"Working their way toward resolution."
"Good. Keep me informed."
"I will. Have the messenger ask them to wake me when he gets here."
"Okay. See you later, Vlad."
"Don't count on it, Kragar." Before he could ask what I meant by that, I was asleep.
Kragar's messenger was too quick for me to get enough sleep, but the two or so hours I got, along with the klava supplied by Lady Teldra when she woke me, put me in good enough shape for the moment. I sat up in bed, sipped klava, and studied the sheaf of documents giving all the significant details of Boralinoi's life and personal habits. He was another of the Council members who got there by being in the right place when Zerika returned with the Orb ending the Interregnum. He was considered good at arranging compromises between rivals, but he was not, himself, a compromiser. He'd done a few very nasty things to secure his position, and since then his reputation ha protected him. There had been no known attempts on his life, and his habits didn't indicate that he was terribly worrjed about such things. On the other hand, he knew I was after him, so it could be tough.
On yet a third hand, he had a mistress, so it could be pretty easy. Given a couple of weeks to set it up, it should be no problem. But, of course, I didn't have a couple of weeks to set it up. I wouldn't have an Organization in a couple of weeks. Still, it might be possible to do it more quickly. I could do what they'd done to me, set up outside his mistress's flat and wait for him to emerge. Not very professional, not the kind of sure thing I liked, but it might work.
I shook my head. The business with Cawti was more urgent, but I had a handle on that. It bothered me that it might not get Cawti released even if it worked, and it bothered me that if things went bad, the business with Boralinoi would remain unfinished. And I owed that son of a bitch one. I considered the matter and kept considering it as I dressed, then put it out of my mind. One thing at a time.
The front dining room, with its huge glass windows overlooking the courtyard, blackwood chairs and table, and hanging brass lamps, was just big enough for Morrolan, Aliera, Sethra, Daymar, Noish-pa, and me. Daymar was on his best behavior; that is, he sat in his chair, between Morrolan and Sethra, instead of floating cross-legged as was his wont. My grandfather was clearly uncomfortable; I doubt he had been so close to so many Dragaerans ever in his life, but he did his best to pretend he was at ease. When he tasted the Bazian pepper stew, he smiled m amazement and no longer had to pretend. Morrolan smiled at him. "Your grandson gave my cook the recipe," he said.