The Book of Taltos (55 page)

We all sat down again, and Lady Teldra poured us all wine, giving the first glass to my grandfather. I said, “On behalf of my grandfather, Morrolan, thank you. We—”

“Never mind that,” he said. “Of course you’re welcome here as long as you want to stay. But do you know about Cawti?”

I stopped with the glass halfway to my lips, carefully set it down, and said, “Tell me.”

“She’s been arrested again. This time, under direct orders from the Empress. The charge is treason against the Empire. Vlad, she’s facing execution.”

Fundamentals of Betrayal

I
FELT MY GRANDFATHER’S
eyes on me, but I didn’t look at him. I said, “Has a trial been set?”

“No. Zerika says she’s going to wait until the troubles are over.”

“Troubles? Was that her word for it?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Has Norathar done anything?”

“Not yet. She’s been directing troops. She says—”

“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 to 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 Orb
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 gave me a look of contempt. I’d only said it to annoy him, anyway. “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.

K
RAGAR’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 had protected him. There had been no known attempts on his life, and his habits didn’t indicate that he was terribly worried 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 in amazement and no longer had to pretend. Morrolan smiled at him. “Your grandson gave my cook the recipe,” he said.

“I hope he left nothing out,” said Noish-pa.

Aliera nibbled daintily and said, “What’s the plan, then? My cousin”—she indicated Morrolan, perhaps for Noish-pa’s benefit—“said it would be exciting.”

“Yes,” I said. “We’re going to end the war.”

“That will be pleasant,” said Daymar.

“You aren’t in it, I’m afraid.”

“Oh?”

“Except, of course, for getting us there.”

“Where?”

“Greenaere.”

“You wish to journey to Greenaere?” said Morrolan. “Explain.”

“The Phoenix Stones prevent psionic communication, and they prevent sorcery. Daymar was able to temporarily punch through the one, and I suspect that with Sethra’s help he could punch through the other long enough to get us in. Perhaps even to get us out again after.”

“After what?”

“After we have forced a truce on them.”

“How?”

“Leave that to me. Your job is to keep me alive long enough to get the truce into our hands.”

There was considerable silence at this point, then Morrolan said, “Several things need to be discussed, I think.”

“Go on.”

“In the first place, I do not perform assassinations.”

“No problem, I do. If you want to kill someone, you are welcome to challenge him to single combat, if that somehow pleases you more.”

“Then you admit you are going to assassinate this King?”

“No. But neither do I deny it.”

“Hmmm. In the second place, we cannot be sure Daymar and Sethra can succeed. The Empire has tried several times to break through and failed. What makes you think this time we can succeed?”

“Several things,” I said. “First, we now know about the Phoenix Stones. Second, we know that Daymar has succeeded once already, in a limited way. Third, we have Sethra Lavode.” She smiled and dipped her head by way of acknowledgment.

“It sounds chancy,” said Morrolan.

I said, “Sethra?”

“It’s worth a try,” she said. “Just how well do you know Greenaere?”

“I have a spot marked well enough to teleport to, if that’s what you mean.”

“I don’t know if that will be good enough. We’re going to need a solid, detailed image of the place, memories of all five senses.”

“Hmmm. I’ve got an idea for that. Let me think about it.”

“Very well,” said Sethra.

I said, “What next?”

Morrolan spoke up again. “How do you know that, if we succeed, the Empire will, in fact, release Cawti?”

I shrugged. “I don’t. I’m working on that. I have some ideas. If they don’t pan out, perhaps we’ll scrap the whole plan. I’ll know by noon tomorrow.”

“It seems to me,” said Morrolan, “that you are doing a great deal of hoping here. You hope we will be able to break through the Phoenix Stones. You hope you can force a treaty out of Greenaere. You hope we will be able to escape again. You hope the Empress will be sufficiently grateful to you to free Cawti.”

“You’ve expressed it quite well.”

I waited for about two breaths, then: “Count me in,” said Morrolan. “Sounds like fun,” said Aliera.

Sethra nodded and Daymar shrugged. Noish-pa looked at me steadily for a moment, then resumed eating. I wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps he was remembering how I’d said I hated Dragaerans, and now, when I was in trouble, whom did I go running to for help? Agood point, that. I’d known them a long time, and we’d been through so much together. I just never thought of them as Dragaerans; they were friends. How could I—