She left and I got in touch with Kragar. “You were saying?”
“Vlad! How are you?”
“About how you’d expect. Now, what did Daymar find out?”
“The guards were pulled out the other day because they were needed somewhere else. There was a riot in the Easterners’ Quarter. That may explain why those two took it out on you. I suppose they aren’t happy with any Easterners now. There have been other beatings of Easterners in the last few days. A few have been beaten to death.”
“I see. It can’t have been very big or we’d have heard about it.”
“No. It was small, short, and pretty bloody, from what Daymar could tell. I’m checking into it, just on general principles.”
“Okay, so that mystery is solved. Now: who set off the riot? Laris, I suppose. We need to find out how he has influence around there. That’s quite a bit farther south than anything else he has.”
“Okay. I’ll see if we can find out. Don’t expect much, though.”
“I won’t. Anything yet on that other business?”
“A bit, but not enough to help, I don’t think. Her name is Norathar, and she’s of the e’Lanya line. I’ve found references to her being expelled from the House, but no details—yet.”
“Good. Keep working on it. Next point: how can Laris afford to keep assassins sitting outside the office?”
“Well, didn’t you say the Sword and the Dagger had returned their payment?”
“Yeah. But that begs the question. How could he afford to hire them? Plus pay whatever it must have cost to start trouble in the Easterners’ Quarter?”
“Uh . . . I don’t know. I guess he has more cash than we thought.”
“Right. But how did he get it?”
“Maybe the same way you did?”
“That’s just what I was thinking. Maybe he’s being supported by someone who’s rich.”
“It could be, Vlad.”
“So, let’s look into it.”
“Sure. How do we do that?”
“I don’t know. Think about it.”
“Check. And, Vlad . . . ”
“Yeah?”
“Next time you come back here, warn us first, okay?”
“Yeah.”
After breaking that contact, I got hold of Fentor at Castle Black, gave him the information about the riot, and asked him to find out what he could about it. Then I really did sleep.
“Wake up, boss!”
It was like the drumbeat that sends a squadron into alert status. I was sitting up, holding a dagger under the blanket, looking at—
“Good afternoon, Vladimir. Is that a knife in your hand, or are you happy to see me?”
“Both,” I said, sheathing the blade. She tapped my side and I moved over to let her sit down. We exchanged a light kiss. She drew back and studied me.
“What happened?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got nothing but time.”
I told her what had happened. She shook her head and, when I was finished, held me.
Wow.
“What now?” she asked.
I said, “Do you and your partner ever give friends a bargain?”
“Do you?”
“I didn’t think so.”
She held me a little tighter.
“Would you two rather I left, boss?”
“Maybe in a bit.”
“Hmmph. I was being snide, if you didn’t notice.”
“I noticed. Shut up.”
“By the way, Vladimir, Sethra is giving a banquet.”
“Really? In honor of what?”
“In honor of all of us being alive.”
“Hmmmm. They’ll probably be trying to pump you and Norathar for information.”
“I expect they—how did you find out her name?”
I did a smug chuckle.
“I guess,” she said, “I’ll just have to torture the information out of you.”
“I guess so,” I said. “Okay, Loiosh, you can leave now.”
“Jerk.”
“Yeah.”
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Ten
“I dislike killing my guests.”
It is possible to break meals down into types. There is the formal dinner, with elegant settings, carefully selected wines, and orchestrated conversation. Then there are Jhereg business meetings, where you ignore the food half the time, because to miss a remark, or even a glance, can be deadly. There is the quiet, informal get-together with a Certain Person, where neither food nor conversation is as important as being there. We also have the grab-something-and-run, where the idea is to get food inside of you, without taking time for either conversation or enjoyment. Next, we have the “good dinner,” where the food is the whole reason for being there, and conversation is merely to help wash it down.
And there is one other type of dinner: sitting around a fine, elegant table, deep under Dzur Mountain, with an undead hostess, a pair of Dragonlords, and a team of Jhereg assassins, one of whom was once a Dragon herself, the other of whom is an Easterner.
The conversation at a dinner of this type is unpredictable. For most of the meal, Morrolan entertained us with a few notes on sorcery that aren’t usually included in tomes, and probably shouldn’t be. I enjoyed this—mostly because I was sitting next to Cawti (by chance? With Aliera around? Ha!) and we generally concentrated on rubbing our legs together under the table. Loiosh made a few remarks about this that I won’t dignify by repeating.
Then, while I was distracted, the conversation changed. Suddenly, Aliera was engaging the lady known as the Sword of the Jhereg in a bantering exchange comparing Dragon customs to Jhereg customs, and I was instantly alert. Aliera didn’t do anything by accident.
“You see,” Aliera was saying, “we only kill people who deserve it. You kill anyone you’re paid to kill.”
Norathar pretended surprise. “But you’re paid too, aren’t you? It’s merely a different coin. A Jhereg assassin would be paid in gold, or so I assume—I’ve never actually met one. A Dragon, on the other hand, is paid by satisfying his bloodlust.”
I chuckled a little. Score one for our team. Aliera also smiled and raised her glass. I looked at her closely. Yes, I decided, she wasn’t doing any idle Jhereg-baiting. She was searching for something.
“So tell me,” Aliera asked, “which do you consider the better coin to be paid in?”
“Well, I’ve never bought anything with bloodlust, but—”
“It can be done.”
“Indeed? What can you buy, pray tell?”
“Empires,” said Aliera e’Kieron. “Empires.”
Norathar e’Lanya raised her eyebrow. “Empires, my lady? What would I do with one?”
Aliera shrugged. “I’m sure you could think of something.”
I glanced around the room. Sethra, at the head of the table and to my right, was watching Aliera intently. Morrolan, to her right, was doing the same. Norathar was next to him, and she was also studying Aliera, who was at the other end of the table. Cawti, next to her and to my left, was looking at Norathar. I wondered what was going on behind her mask. I always wonder what’s going on behind people’s masks. I sometimes wonder what’s going on behind my mask.