Steven Brust - Jhereg

“I wonder what Mellar would do? I understand he was a pretty fair assassin himself, on his way up. Maybe we’ll invite him over sometime and ask him.”

Cawti laughed easily. “You’ll have to ask him at Castle Black. I understand he isn’t getting out much these days.”

I idly watched Loiosh nibble at the scraps of our meal. I got up and wandered into the living room. I sat there for a while, thinking and looking at the light brown walls, but nothing came.

I still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I’d gotten when I’d been talking to Morrolan. I tried to recall the part of the conversation that had triggered it. Something about bodyguards.

“Cawti,” I called.

Her voice came back from the kitchen. “Yes, dear?”

“Did you know that Mellar has a couple of bodyguards?”

“No, but I’m not surprised.”

“I’m not either. They must be pretty good, too, because they were watching me while I talked to Mellar, and I didn’t notice them at all.”

“Did you mention them to Morrolan?”

“Yes. He seemed a little surprised.”

“I suppose. You know you’re free to do them, don’t you? Since they obviously sneaked in, they aren’t guests.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “It also proves how good they are. Slipping into Castle Black isn’t the work of an amateur, if our protections are half as good as I think they are. Of course, we hadn’t increased the guards then, but still . . . ”

She finished up her cleaning, and sat down next to me. I rested my head on her shoulder. She moved away from me, then, and patted her lap. I stretched out and crossed my legs. Loiosh flew over and landed on my shoulder, nuzzling me with his head.

There was still something about those bodyguards that seemed funny. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, which was incredibly frustrating. In fact, there was something strange about this whole affair that I couldn’t quite see.

“Do you think,” said Cawti a little later, “that you might be able to buy off one of the bodyguards?”

“What do you think?” I said. “If you have a whole organization to choose from, don’t you think you could find two people in it who were completely trustworthy? Especially if you had an extra nine million gold to pay them with?”

“I guess you’re right,” she admitted. “On the other hand, there are other kinds of pressures we could bring to bear.”

“In two days, Cawti? I don’t think so.”

She nodded, and gently stroked my forehead. “And,” she said, “even if we did, I don’t suppose it would really help. If we can’t take him anyway, it won’t do any good to convince one of the bodyguards to step back at the right time.”

Ching! I had it! Not much, perhaps, but I suddenly knew what had been bothering me. I sat up on the couch, startling Loiosh, who hissed his indignation at me.

I leaned over and kissed Cawti, long and hard.

“What was that for?” she asked, a little breathlessly. “Not, you understand, that I mind.”

I gripped her hand, and locked eyes, and concentrated, letting her share my thoughts. She seemed a bit startled at first, but quickly settled into it. I brought up the memory of standing at the entranceway, and past it, running, and the sight of the dead assassin with a Morganti dagger in his hand. I played over the whole thing, remembering expressions, glimpses of the room, and things only an assassin would have noticed—as well as things an assassin should have noticed if they’d been there.

“ Hey, boss, want to run by the part of me getting the guy one more time? ”

“ Shut up, Loiosh. ”

Cawti nodded as it unfolded, and shared it with me. We reached the point where Morrolan handed me the dagger, and I broke out of it.

“There,” I said, “does anything strike you as odd?”

She thought it over. “Well, Mellar seemed pretty calm for someone who has almost been killed, and with a Morganti dagger. But other than that . . . ”

I brushed it aside. “Chances are, he never realized that it was Morganti. Yes, it was odd, but I don’t mean that.”

“Then I don’t see what you’re referring to.”

“I’m referring to the strange action of the bodyguards at the assassination attempt.”

“But the bodyguards did nothing at the assassination attempt.”

“That was the strange action.”

She nodded, slowly.

I continued. “If the Dragon guard had been just a little bit slower, Mellar would have been cut down. I can’t reconcile that with our conclusion that they are competent. I suppose Mellar might have had time to get a weapon out, or something, but he sure didn’t look like it. The bodyguards were just nowhere to be seen. If they’re as good as we think they are, they should have been all over the assassin before Morrolan’s guard had time to show steel.”

“ Ahem! ”

“Or Loiosh had time to strike,” I added.

“ They couldn’t be that fast. ”

Cawti looked thoughtful. “Could it be that they just weren’t around? That Mellar sent them on some kind of errand?”

“That, my dear, is exactly what I’m thinking. And if so, I’d very much like to find out what it was that they were doing.”

She nodded. “Of course,” she said, “it could be that they were there, and were good enough to see that Morrolan’s guard was going to stop him.”

“That is also possible,” I said. “But if they’re that good, I’m really scared.”

“Do you know if they are still with him?”

“Good point,” I said. “Just a minute while I check.”

I contacted one of Morrolan’s people in the banquet hall, asked, and was answered. “They’re still around,” I said.

“Which means that they weren’t bought off by the Demon, or the assassin. Whatever reason they had for their ‘strange action,’ it was good enough for Mellar.”

I nodded. “And that, my dearest love, is a good place to start looking tomorrow. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

She gave me her wide-eyed-innocent look. “What did you have in mind, my lord?”

“What makes you think I have something in mind?”

“You always do. Are you trying to tell me that you don’t have everything planned out?” She walked into the bedroom.

“Nothing,” I said, “has been planned out since I started this damned job. We’ll just have to improvise.”

I gave myself two days to complete the thing. I was aware that I was being unduly optimistic.

I arrived at the office somewhat early the next morning, hoping to spend the day looking for a solid plan, or at least the shade of a direction. I was congratulating myself on having beaten Kragar, who is normally an early riser, when I heard him coughing gently. He was seated opposite me, with his smug little, I’ve-been-sitting-here-for-ten-minutes-now look.

I gave him a moderate-to-dangerous Jhereg sneer and said, “What did you find out?”

“Well,” he said, “why don’t we start out with the bad news, before we get to the bad news, the bad news, or the other bad news.”

“Damn. You’re just full of high spirits today, aren’t you?”

He shrugged.

“Okay,” I said, “what’s the bad news?”

“There have been rumors,” he stated.

“Oh, joy. How accurate are they?”

“Not very. No one has quite put together the rumors of something unusual going on with Mellar, and the ones about the Jhereg’s having financial trouble.”

“Can it wait two days?”

He looked doubtful. “Maybe. Somebody’s going to have to start answering questions soon, though. Tomorrow would be better, and today would be better still.”

“Let me put it this way: will the day after tomorrow be too late?”