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Authors: Steven Brust

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BOOK: The Book of Athyra
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Savn was sitting next to the hearth this time, not facing it. The old woman was next to him, talking to him softly. As I came in I waited to see if he would acknowledge my presence, but it was as if I didn’t exist, as if nothing existed, even the old woman who was talking to him.

I walked over. “Hello, Savn,” I said.

He didn’t look at me, but he said, “Do you have a knife?”

I said, “Do you know my name?”

“You have a knife, don’t you?”

“You know who I am, don’t you Savn?”

“I . . . I lost Paener’s knife, you know. I let it—”

“It’s all right, Savn. No one is angry about that. Do you know who I am?”

“It was a good knife. It was very sharp.”

“Let’s talk about something else, Savn.”

“I used it to cut—to cut things.”

The old woman said, “Savn, your sister is all right.”

He didn’t seem to hear her any more than he’d heard me, but his hands started opening and closing. We sat there, but he didn’t say anything else.

I looked at the old woman, who shrugged and stood up. She pulled me over to a corner and spoke in a low voice, saying, “I’m beginning to understand what’s going on with him.”

“His sister?”

She nodded. “She’s the key. He thinks he killed her, or something. I’m not sure. He isn’t really rational, you know. He doesn’t know when he’s dreaming and when he’s really experiencing things.”

“I could bring him back and show her to him.”

She shook her head. “Not yet. He’d just think it was a dream.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Just what we’ve been doing. We keep talking to him, even though he only wants to talk about knives and cutting, and we try to get him to talk about other things.”

“Will that work?”

She shrugged. “If I’m right about what’s going on in his head, then it should help, eventually. But I don’t know what you mean by work. There’s no way to know how much he’ll recover, or what he’ll be like. But we might be able to get him to the point where he responds to us, and then maybe we can teach him to look after himself.”

“That would be good,” I said.

“How about my problem?”

“You mean, about the cottage?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure. I think I’ve figured out some of it. If my theories are right, you don’t have anything to worry about. But you ought to worry about the possibility that my theories are wrong.”

“All right,” she said. “What if you’re wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said.

12

I
WAS UP EARLY
, and, after almost enough klava, I stopped by the tailor’s to retrieve the items that I’d ordered. The tailor had, evidently, been thinking, which can be unhealthy, but it had only frightened him, which is a natural survival reaction. I reassured him with words and coins, got the items, and left him reasonably content. Then I went by a weaponsmith and picked up a few things. Then I found an inn that was serving breakfast, stepped into the privy, and, amid odors that I will not bother describing, I spent some time getting dressed and set—it took me a while to remember how to conceal knives about my person without them showing, which surprised me a little. I covered everything, including the cloak, with my regular, nondescript brown cloak, which was far too hot for inside the privy, but would be only slightly too warm for the walk out to Vonnith’s place.

I left the tavern a bit more bulky than I went in and made my plodding way out of Northport toward the home of our dear friend, Side-Captain Vonnith, and what
is
a side-captain, anyway?

There’s no need to tell you about the trip out there—you did it yourself. And my compliments, Kiera, on the accuracy of the report, which gave me an excellent idea of what to expect, and when to expect it. About half a mile away, then, I took off the extra cloak, and appeared before some nameless birds and small animals as me, the old me, Vlad Taltos, Jhereg,
assassin, and friend to old ladies. I continued after stashing the brown cloak in a thicket at the side of the road, and Loiosh grudgingly agreed to wait outside after making a few remarks about who got to have all the fun. I guess his idea of fun is different than mine.

Or maybe not.

Vonnith’s guards got to me as I was walking up to the front door. Two of them, flanking me as neat as you please. They made no hostile moves, so I kept walking. They said, “My lord, may we be of some service to you?”

“If you wish,” I said. “You may tell the Side-Captain that a friend is here to see her.”

“A friend, my lord?”

“That’s right. Don’t I look friendly?” I smiled at them, but they didn’t answer. We reached the door. I said, “If you wish, you may tell her that I represent the Adrilankha Eleemosynary Society.”

“The—?”

“Adrilankha Eleemosynary Society.”

“Uh, wait just a moment,” he said. He was quiet for a time, I assume making psychic contact with someone, then he looked over at his companion and nodded once. The companion hadn’t opened his mouth the entire time, but he was standing the right distance away from me, so I assume he knew his business. In any case, they both inclined their heads to me slightly and went back to their stations. I shrugged, gave a last adjustment to my brand-new clothing, and pulled the clapper.

Hub appeared, looking just as you’d described him, and gave me a greeting that made me miss Teldra. Have you met Teldra? Never mind. He showed me in and brought me to the same room she met you in, and there was Vonnith, just where she was supposed to be.

She stood up and gave me a slight bow—I don’t think she knew how polite she was supposed to be to me—and started to speak. I sat down and said, “Give me the names of all the banks Fyres was involved in. I don’t need yours, we know about those. Which other ones?”

She frowned. “Why do you need to know that? And who are you, anyway?”

“I’m not going to tell you my real name; you should know that. And I don’t have the energy to invent a good one. You know who I work for—”

“You’re a Jhereg!”

“Yes. And an Easterner. What’s your point? We need to know what
other banks Fyres was involved with, and we need to know before they go under.”

“But how can you not know? How can—?” She seemed very puzzled, but I had no interest in letting her work things out; I’d made that mistake yesterday.

“Maybe we do know,” I said, and let her put it together herself—wrong, of course. It’s disgustingly easy to let people lie to themselves, and they do it so much better than you can. But as she was coming to the conclusion that this was all a test, and deciding how she ought to react to that, she wasn’t considering the possibility that I wasn’t involved with anyone except an old hedge-wizard and a notorious thief.

She said, “I don’t know them all. I know the big ones, of course.”

“Size isn’t important; I mean the ones with heavy enough investments that they’re at risk, or at any rate they’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Oh,” she said, and somehow that made things all right—perhaps she decided that she wasn’t really being tested, we just didn’t know who was heavily committed to Fyres. Or maybe she came up with some other explanation, I don’t know. But I got what I was after. She said, “Well, the Bank of the Empire, of course.”

Cracks and shards!
“Yes. Go on.”

“And the Turmoli Trust, and Havinger’s.”

“Quite.”

“Should I include the House treasuries?”

House treasuries?

“Yes.”

“Well, the only ones I know about are the Dragon and the Jhegaala. And the Orca, naturally.”

“Naturally,” I echoed, trying to keep my eyes from bulging too obviously. The Orca Treasury! The
Dragon
Treasury!

“I think those are the only Houses, or at least the only ones with potentially dangerous investments.”

“Not the Jhereg?” I said.

“No,” she said. “As far as I know, you—they are only in for small change. I think that was the deal to convince the Dragons to invest.”

“That would make sense,” I said.
Besides, what does the Jhereg Treasury matter if all the Jhereg in Northport and half the Jhereg in Adrilankha had already gotten involved?
But then, maybe they hadn’t—I still didn’t know what you were going to uncover in Adrilankha, I was just guessing based on what your friend Stony had said.

She kept talking, and I kept listening, but the details aren’t important. She named about twenty or thirty banks, trusts, and moneylenders who were either going under or were in danger of going under, and, as I said, the Bank of the Empire, which embodies the Imperial Treasury, was at the very top of the list.

What happens if the Empire has to file surrender of debts, Kiera? Who can it surrender its debts
to?
It occurs to me that there are probably scholars of the House of the Orca who sit around and discuss things like this, or write long books about it, but nothing like it had ever crossed my mind before. When she finally ran down, I said, “Good. That’s what we needed.”

“But you knew all that.”

“Maybe,” I said. “That isn’t your concern, is it?”

“I suppose not,” she said, and looked at me with maybe just the hint of suspicion.

As if it were just an afterthought to the conversation, I said, “Loftis was killed yesterday.”

“So I heard,” she said coolly. “Poor fellow. Do the authorities know who did it?”

“Nope,” I said.

She studied her fingernails. “I heard he was eating lunch with an Easterner at the time.”

She heard that? Well, maybe that explained why she was so ready to believe I was who I claimed to be. That was almost funny. “It’s possible,” I said.

“It seemed like a professional job.”

I looked at her and alarm bells went off inside my head. She knew as much about professionalism in assassination as I knew about professionalism in finance. And, in fact, it
hadn’t
been a professional job; at least, not the way the Jhereg would have done it. Too many people involved, and too much left to chance, including a target who had the opportunity to draw his blade and a witness left alive. Whoever killed Loftis, it wasn’t the Jhereg.

So who was it?

I tried to remember enough about the assassins to guess their House, but I couldn’t really. They weren’t Dzurlords, and they weren’t Dragonlords. Orca? Maybe. Probably.

But, above all, why was she pretending it was a Jhereg job? Did she think I was pretending it was a Jhereg job, and she was just going along with it, even though she knew better? I looked at her, and my instincts answered
yes.

“What is it?” she said. I’d been looking at her, even though I hadn’t been aware of it, and apparently this was making her nervous. Good.

“What do you know?” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“You know something.”

“About what?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t—”

“I know we didn’t do Loftis, and you know we didn’t do Loftis. You’ve been scared, and you’re getting ready to jump. You know something you shouldn’t know, and that’s scaring you, and well it should. What is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?”

She tried to scowl at me. I stared back at her. I was Vlad again, a Jhereg assassin, if only for a moment, and she was an Orca—rich and fat, at least metaphorically. I’d become an assassin in the first place just for the pleasure of killing people like her. So I glared and waited, and eventually she cracked. It wasn’t obvious, but I could see her resistance break down, and she knew I could see.

I said, “Well? Who killed him?”

She shook her head.

I said, “Don’t be stupid. You know who I represent. Whoever you’re scared of, you should be more scared of me. Now, which one of them was it?”

I threw in the “which one of them was it” phrase because it makes it sound like you know what you’re talking about even when you don’t, and this time it paid off. She said, “Reega.”

“Good,” I said. “Congratulations, you’ve just saved your life. How deep into her are you?”

“Heh,” she said. “I’m not into her, she’s into me.”

“Same thing, isn’t it? If she goes down, you follow her.”

She nodded.

“Very well, Side-Captain. You know that we’re all a little shy these days about throwing money at someone to keep an operation from going under—especially that bloodline. But it is possible something can be worked out.”

“Something
has
been worked out,” she snapped. “And if you people would just leave us alone—”

“You mean the land swindle? I know about that. What makes you think it’s going to work?”

“What do you mean?”

“It isn’t like it’s a secret, Side-Captain.”

“Who knows?”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Except maybe the victims.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? As long as the v—as long as the tenants don’t find out, it doesn’t matter who else does.”

“Sure. But how long will it be until they realize what’s going on? And then what?”

“We’ll be gone by then.”

“Do you really think you can move that quickly?”

“We can be done this week.”

I pretended to consider. “It might work,” I said.

“It will work. The Empire won’t prosecute, and I don’t even know what law they’d prosecute under if they wanted to. Right now we’ve got twelve thousand tenants who will go into debt for life to buy land at three times its value. If that isn’t worth a little short-term Jhereg investment—”

“The Jhereg,” I said, “doesn’t have much to invest. You know why as well as I do.”

She shrugged. “But I also know that you can come up with the funds, if you want to.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “We can.”


Boss! Trouble!

“Just a moment,” I said. “
What is it, Loiosh?


Someone’s just teleported in. Male, Jhereg colors, two bodyguards.


Oh, nuts.

I stood up. “You must excuse me; there’s a problem back home. I’ll talk to my bosses.”

Hub came into the room and whispered in Vonnith’s ear. She nodded to him, then looked at me. “No need,” she said. “I think your boss is here already.”

BOOK: The Book of Athyra
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