Steven Brust - Orca

“ What do you think, Loiosh ? “

“I don’t like it, boss. There’s no one hanging around outside, but he had plenty of time to set something up before we got here.”

“Good point.”

“If you want to make a break, I can keep him busy.”

“No. I’m going to run with it.”

“Boss—”

“Stay alert.”

The ceiling was low, the stone walls were damp, and the place was dark enough to be irritating—I suspected that, except for sinking, it hadn’t changed much in quite some time. There was a big table with two long benches, about half of which were occupied by tradesmen, and a few isolated tables scattered about the room. We sat at one of those. It was toward the back, and Loftis could watch the front door while I watched the curtained-off doorway that presumably led to a private room of some sort. I could have made an issue about this—in fact, I was almost tempted to since I didn’t have Loiosh with me—but I still had some faint hopes of convincing him that the story we’d given was true.

“What do you recommend?” I asked.

“I don’t know; I’ve never been here before.”

After too long, we realized that no one was going to bring us anything, so we went up to the bar and acquired a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, two bowls of fish stew, glasses, spoons, a wooden platter to carry them all on. I did the paying, he did the carrying. We brought the stuff back to the table, sat down, poured, and sampled.

“The stew is too salty,” suggested Loftis.

“The bread’s all right.”

“Better than the stew,” he agreed.

“Or the wine,” I added.

“I was thinking about bringing you in,” he said.

“Do you have better wine than this?”

“A little better. Not enough to get excited about. The trouble is, we can’t find your friend.”

“You just haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Oh?”

“I know some excellent Eastern wines.”

“Make a list of them for me. And while you’re filling it out, maybe you can write down an address where I can find dear Margaret.”

“I’ll be sure to do that. But I don’t feel too bad for you. You can’t have been looking for more than half an hour. What do you expect? Searches and wines take time to mature.”

“Wines do, certainly. But searches can be helped. And I’d take it as a personal favor.”

“How about if I just pay for the next bottle of wine, instead?”

“That’s a thought. You don’t seem worried, Padraic. Is that your real name, by the way?”

“I don’t remember anymore.”

“Too much wine can do that to one’s memory.” He poured me some more. “You probably should be worried, though. Because, when I say that I might have to bring you in—”

“Please,” I said. “Don’t ruin the surprise. Or the meal, for that matter.”

“You know, I can’t even eat this stew. I wonder if they have anything else.”

“I wouldn’t risk it if they did. We got what they recommended; what do you suppose the inferior stuff is like?”

“Good point. Who did you say you’re working for?”

“An unnamed Imperial group, devoted to the interests of the State.”

“Excellent. I believe you, too. Only, I will require some form of identification, or a contact in the Imperial Palace, or a Signet.”

I poured him some wine. “That could be problematical,” I said.

“Yes. What exactly are you trying to do?”

“There’s an old lady whose land is being taken away from her. We’re trying to find out who owns the land so we can buy it for her, but the company is out of business. She’s being evicted, you see—”

He held up his hand. “Say no more,” he said. “Just give me her name, and I’ll see that it’s taken care of.”

The worst of it was that he might be able to, and perhaps he even would; but I couldn’t count on it, and I certainly couldn’t give him any help in tracking you down, Kiera; especially after all the work I’d just gone through to destroy all the work you’d done in setting this up. I said, “I can’t seem to remember, just at the moment. It must be the wine.”

“Probably.”

“Boss, there are a couple of blades I don’t recognize outside the door.”

“Outside the door? What are they doing?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were getting ready to go charging in.”

“Oh.”

Loftis sighed and pushed the food away. “Execrable,” he said. “What am I going to do with you?”

Under the table, I let a dagger fall into my left hand, and made sure my sword was loose in its sheath. “You could paint me blue and trade me for bagpipes.”

“Yes, that would be an option. But I’m afraid, as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing a meal with you, I’m going to have to insist on your accompanying me back to a place where I’m better equipped to get answers to questions.”

“Damn,” I said. “I just remembered. My niece is getting married this evening, and I have to pick out some new clothes, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it today.”

“Oh, I’m sure your niece will understand. Just what was her name, and where might I find her?” He smiled, then the smile went away and he looked at me very hard. “There are really only a couple of questions I need answered, but I do need them answered. Do you understand?”

I matched his stare.

He said, “Who do you work for, and what are you trying to accomplish? If you give me those answers, maybe we can work something out. If you don’t, I’m going to have to start squeezing you.”

“It isn’t going to happen,” I said.

“Boss, they’re coming in!”

I rose to my feet, and I had my weapon halfway out when two men came through the curtain I was facing. I stepped to the side so Loftis couldn’t get an easy shot at me and flipped my dagger at one of them; when he flinched, I lunged for the other one, knocking his weapon out of line and nailing him in the throat. I risked a quick glance toward the door, and then saw the other two, who were looking a little startled to see me noticing them and smiling; Loftis was now on his feet, too, and he had a weapon out, but he was looking at the pair who’d come through the door. He was facing away from me, so I couldn’t see his expression, nor did I have time for a close look, because there was still the one I’d thrown my knife at. But Loftis did take the time to look at me, and there was no particular expression in that look. He said, “He didn’t break the stick,” which was just damned informative, but I didn’t have the time to ask for an explanation.

As I turned back to the one I’d distracted, he made a break to get past me; that was fine, they could all run away as far as I was concerned.

Only he didn’t run away.

He got past me, then he buried his sword in Loftis’s skull, then he kept running out the door. The other two followed behind; they were gone before I realized it.

“Boss?”

“Don’t worry, Loiosh. They weren’t after me.”

“They weren’t?”

“Right. On the other hand, I suppose that means you can go ahead and worry.”

Everyone in the room was staring at Loftis, and there was no sound, until the Dragonlord dropped his weapon, which made an appalling clamor as it hit the floor.

He turned very slowly and looked at me; there was an expression of surprise on his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it. I could see the muscles of his neck straining, and realized that it was hard work for him to keep his head straight with the weight of a sword attached to it.

Loftis sank to his knees, then he fell forward onto his face, looking absurd and pitiful with the sword still sticking out of the back of his head.

I got out of there in a hurry, before anyone in the place could think to stop me.