Dathaani approached the door and pulled the clapper.
There was little that frightened Dathaani, and, if you’ll accept that being nervous is a different feeling than fright, there was even less that made him nervous. Meeting with Rynend was one of those.
He did his best to hide the nervousness, because it was humiliating; but Rynend could have him killed by just making the suggestion. And Rynend was the sort to do it if he got irritated. It was hard not to keep that in mind while having a conversation.
Rynend didn’t have an office; like most of the higher-ups in the Organization, he operated out of his home. And like most higher-ups in any organization, he liked to make people wait. So Dathaani sat in the parlor and waited.
After ten minutes that felt like an hour, Rynend appeared with a bodyguard—a burly fellow who looked like his face had been carved out of the same marble as the floors. Rynend himself was small, elderly, and frail-looking. Dathaani rose and bowed; Rynend gestured that he should sit again, then sat down facing him.
Rynend looked at the bodyguard, who walked to the far end of the room; far enough that he was effectively out of earshot. Then the boss said, “Dathaani, you have something, or not?”
“I have something, my lord.”
“Yeah? Is it good? Will it finish this business, or let me down?”
“I like the chances.”
“You like the chances. Well, I don’t like chances, I like sure things.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“So, do we have a sure thing?”
“No, my lord.”
“No. See, that’s not the answer I wanted. I wanted you to say, ‘This Easterner will no longer pollute the world with his miserable, unclean presence.’”
“I understand, my lord. But, I don’t know, it seems like it might be a bad idea to lie to you. To tell you something is certain when it isn’t.”
“You think that’s a bad idea?”
“I do.”
“You’re right. You don’t want to tell me something that isn’t true, because then I’ll be sad, and you don’t want me to be sad.”
“I understand, my l—”
“But if this worthless crumb gets away, then I’ll be sad, too.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“So tell me what you need.”
“Blades to do the finalizing, a sor—”
“What about you?”
“I do the set-up, my lord. I’m not such a reliable hand with a blade. Also, with enough effort, this can lead back to me. That could be bad for all of us, so I need to make it hard for anyone to find me. Put me near the body, that’s more connection than we want.”
“The body. I like the sound of that.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“All right. Blades. More than one?”
“We’ll have surprise, certainly. But you know about his familiars?”
“How many do you want?”
“At least three.”
“Three!”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Can’t get professionals; no one will work that way. I can find you muscle.”
“Make it five, then.”
“All right. What else?”
“A sorcerer to teleport the blades once we have the fix, and a note from you asking the Imperial representative to help get me what I want.”
Rynend didn’t look happy. “You need the representative?”
“I’m afraid so, my lord.”
“Why?”
“We’ll need someone close to the Orb to pull the location and transfer it to the sorcerer to do the teleport. It should be done right away; if we wait even half a minute, he might have moved, and then things don’t go so smooth. We have to catch him flat.”
“What if the Empress refuses?”
“Legally, she can’t.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“It sounds complicated.”
“It is.”
Rynend shook his head. “I don’t like complicated.”
Dathaani waited.
“All right,” said Rynend. “You don’t go near the rep. Tell me what you need, and when you need it, and I’ll arrange it.”
“Yes, my lord. I’ve met with someone from the Left Hand. Once I have the name—”
“Make sure whoever you find is able to appear at court.”
Dathaani nodded.
“So, the set-up. You like it?”
“It was a tough problem, my lord, but I think I’ve solved it. As I said, I like our odds.”
“But it’s complicated.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“So, how are you getting him?”
“I’ve recruited help finding him.”
“Help. From who?”
“The Empress.”
After a moment, Rynend said, “You’d better explain. No, forget that. Don’t explain. I don’t want to know. You have a time and a place?”
“A place and a day; the time is iffy, but I’ll have some warning before we get his location. And then we move instantly. The blades have to be ready.”
“How much warning?”
“Between half an hour and an hour.”
“All right,” said Rynend. “I’ll get you the blades, send them to you. You have a meeting place?”
Dathaani told him where to meet.
“All right. Next I want to hear, this problem is solved. You understand?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Anything else?”
Dathaani hesitated. “There is, my lord. You have to know, this is going to raise a stink. A big stink. If word gets out that the Organization is behind this, and we did it just to get this guy, they’re going to come down on us hard. The Empire. I need to know you’ll back me if this works.”
“Back you how?”
“I’d be very sad if heat came down, and the Organization decided to use me for ice.”
Rynend sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
“How bad will the heat be?”
“My lord, we are making it look as if there is about to be a major attack by Jenoine. They’ll pull out everything they can: troops, sorcerers, everything. If things work the way I want, nothing will come of it. But if they find out, it’ll be bad. Very bad.”
“Okay, then. If you get this bastard, I’ll protect you from any heat that comes down. You’ll be a rich man, and I’ll see to it you live to spend it. But if you miss him, you’re on your own. Clear enough?”
“Yes, my lord. Very clear.”
“And you’re good with that?”
“I’m good with that.”
“All right. Anything else?”
“No, my lord.”
“You can find your own way out.”
Dathaani stood, bowed, and found his own way out, the hairs on the back of his neck still standing up.
Relax, he told himself. You’ll either be rich, or you won’t need to worry about it.
Still and all, he really did like the odds.
CHAPTER FIVE
NORATHAR
The Dragon Heir was admitted to Rynend’s home by a burly, narrow-eyed man who looked—and no doubt was—much more bodyguard than butler.
“I have business with Lord Rynend,” she said.
“He isn’t expecting you,” stated the other.
“Show him this,” she said, and handed over the ring with the mark of the Heir on it.
The bodyguard walked out to deliver the errand, just as another, cut from the same mold, though a little shorter and burlier, came in to take his place. Norathar had nothing to say to him; he evidently felt the same.