Steven Brust - Jhereg

“One man’s mistake is another man’s opportunity.”

One damn thing after another.

I returned to my office and looked at nothing in particular for a while. I needed time, probably days, to get adjusted to this information. Instead, I had about ten minutes.

“Vlad?” said Kragar. “Hey, Vlad!”

I looked up. After a moment, I focused in on Kragar, who was sitting opposite me and looking worried.

“What is it?” I asked him.

“That’s what I was wondering.”

“Huh?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. No. Hell, Kragar, I don’t know.”

“It sounds serious,” he said.

“It is. My whole world has just been flipped around, and I haven’t sorted it out yet.”

I leaned toward him, then, and grabbed his jerkin. “Just one thing, old friend: If you value your sanity, never, but never have a deep, heart-to-heart talk with Aliera.”

“Sounds really serious.”

“Yeah.”

We sat in silence for a moment. Then I said, “Kragar?”

“Yeah, boss?”

I bit my lip. I’d never broached this subject before, but . . .

“How did you feel when you were kicked out of the House of the Dragon?”

“Relieved,” he said, with no hesitation. “Why?”

I sighed. “Never mind.”

I tried to force the mood and the contemplation from me and almost succeeded. “What’s on your mind, Kragar?”

“I was wondering if you found out anything,” he said, in all innocence.

Did I find out anything? I asked myself. The question began to reverberate in my head, and I heard myself laughing. I saw Kragar giving me a funny look; worried. I kept laughing. I tried to stop, but couldn’t. Ha! Did I learn anything?

Kragar leaned across the desk and slapped me once—hard.

“ Hey boss ,” said Loiosh, “ cut it out. ”

I sobered up. “ Easy for you to say ,” I told him. “ You haven’t just learned that you once were everything you hate — the very kind of person you despise. ”

“ So? You haven’t just learned that you were supposed to be a blithering idiot, except that some pseudo-god decided to have a little fun with your ancestors ,” Loiosh barked back.

I realized that he had a point. I turned to Kragar. “I’m all right now. Thanks.”

He still looked worried. “Are you sure?”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes. “Great. So, if you can avoid having hysterics again, what did you learn?”

I almost did have hysterics again, but controlled myself before Kragar could slap me again. What had I learned? Well, I wasn’t going to tell him that, or that, uh, or that either. What did that leave? Oh, of course.

“I learned that Mellar is the product of three Houses,” I said. I gave him a report on that part of the discussion.

He pondered the information.

“Now that,” he said, “is interesting. A Dzur, eh? And a Dragon. Hmmm. Okay, why don’t you see what you can dig up about the Dzur side, and I’ll work on the Dragons.”

“I think it would make more sense to do it the other way around, since I have some connections in the Dragons.”

He looked at me closely. “Are you quite sure,” he said, “that you want to use those connections just at the moment?”

Oh. I thought about that, and nodded. “Okay, I’ll check the Dzur records. What do you think we should look for?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. Then he cocked his head for a minute and seemed to be thinking about something, or else he was in psionic contact. I waited.

“Vlad,” he said, “do you have any idea what it’s like to be a cross-breed?”

“I know it isn’t as bad as being an Easterner!”

“Isn’t it?”

“What are you getting at? You know damn well what I’ve had to put up with.”

“Oh, sure, Mellar isn’t going to have all the problems you have, or had. But suppose he inherited the true spirit of each House. Do you have any idea how frustrating it would be for a Dzur to be denied his place in the lists of heroes of the House, if he was good enough to earn it? Or a Dragon, denied the right to command all the troops he was competent to lead? The only House that would take him is us, and Hell, Vlad, there are even some Jhereg that would make him eat Dragon-dung. Sure, Vlad; you have it worse in fact, but he can’t help but feel that he’s entitled to better.”

“And I’m not?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I suppose,” I conceded. “I see your point. Where are you going with it?”

Kragar got a puzzled look on his face. “I don’t know, exactly, but it’s bound to have an effect on his character.”

I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, I’ll get started right away.”

“Fine. Oh, could you try to get that crystal with Mellar’s face in it back from Daymar? I may want to use it.”

“Sure. When do you need it?”

“Tomorrow morning will be fine. I’m taking the evening off. I’ll start on it tomorrow.”

Kragar’s eyes were sympathetic, which was rare. “Sure, boss. I’ll cover for you here. See you tomorrow.”

I ate mechanically and thanked the Lords of Judgment that it was Cawti’s night to cook and clean. I didn’t think I’d be up to it.

After eating, I rose and went into the living room. I sat down and started trying to sort out some things. I didn’t get anywhere. Presently, Cawti came in and sat down next to me. We sat in silence for a while.

I tried to deny what Aliera had told me, or pass it off as a combination of myth, misplaced superstition, and delusion. Unfortunately, it made too much sense for that to work. Why, after all, had Sethra Lavode been so friendly to me, a Jhereg and an Easterner? And Aliera obviously believed all of this, or why had she treated me as almost an equal on occasion?

But, more than that was the undeniable fact that it felt true. That was the really frightening thing—somewhere, deep within me, doubtless in my “soul,” I knew that what Aliera had said was true.

And that meant—what? That the thing that had driven me into the Jhereg—my hatred of Dragaerans—was in fact a fraud. That my contempt for Dragons wasn’t a feeling of superiority for my system of values over theirs, but was in fact a feeling of inadequacy going back, how long? Two hundred thousand years? Two hundred and fifty thousand years? By the multi-jointed fingers of Verra!

I became conscious of Cawti holding my hand. I smiled at her, a bit wanly perhaps.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked, quietly.

That was another good question. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to talk about it or not. But I did, haltingly, over the course of about two hours. Cawti was quietly sympathetic, but didn’t seem really upset.

“Really, Vlad, what’s the difference?”

I started to answer, but she stopped me with a shake of her head. “I know. You’ve thought that it was being an Easterner that made you what you are, and now you’re wondering. But being human is only one aspect, isn’t it? The fact that you had an earlier life as a Dragaeran—maybe several, in fact—doesn’t change what you’ve gone through in this life.”

“No,” I admitted. “I suppose not. But—”

“I know. Tell you what, Vlad. After this is all over and forgotten, maybe a year from now, we’ll go talk to Sethra. We’ll find out more about what happened and maybe, if you want to, she’ll take you back to that time, and you can experience it again. If you want to. But in the meantime, forget it. You are who you are, and whatever went into making that is all to the good, as far as I’m concerned.”

I squeezed her hand, glad that I’d discussed it with her. I felt a bit more relaxed and started to feel tired. I kissed Cawti’s hand. “Thanks for the meal,” I said.