Steven Brust - Jhegaala

It was a big room, with about four tables, and various official-looking men—about a dozen all together—sitting behind them, doing official-looking things with papers. No women. Odd. There was a staircase in back leading up. My first reaction was that there was too much activity for a Merchants' Guild in a town this size. But what do I know?

The guy at the table next to the door looked up; a young, serious-looking man who didn't eat enough, and, to judge from his pinched-up face and stiff back, he probably never did anything at all he enjoyed. He probably didn't believe in having fun. I should introduce him to this girl who roams the docks.

He wanted to know if he could be of service to me. I had the feeling it wasn't actually all that important to him one way or the other. I thought about breaking his legs, but that was just because I was in a bad mood.

"Chayoor," I told him. "I want to see him." He opened his mouth, hesitated, looked me over, closed his mouth, and hesitated again. I can't actually read minds the way Daymar can, but sometimes, you know, you don't need to—the poor guy was trying to decide my status so he'd know whether to address me as "my lord," or "boy" or something in between. He was having trouble, because I looked like a commoner except for the sword at my side. I felt very bad for him.

"Sir," he finally said, "if you will wait here, I will find out if—"

"Save it," I told him. "My name is Merss Vladimir, and there aren't enough of you here to keep me from seeing him. I assume he is up those stairs. Now, do you want to announce me, or shall I just head up?"

His mouth worked for a moment. I guess one of the worst sides of my character is how much I enjoy doing that to poor little bastards who have no defense against it.

"No," he finally said, keeping his voice low but even. "Your name is Vladimir Taltos, and you will see the Guild Master when he is ready to see you. He has been expecting you. I will see if he is free now. Excuse me."

6

Lefitt: Well, that didn't work either . Boraan: It most certainly did not . Lefitt: So, your next idea ? Boraan: A drink, of course. Maize-oishka and water. Six parts water . Lefitt: That seems rather weak . Boraan: Well, but one hundred parts oishka, do you see ? Lefitt: Ah. Yes, it is all clear to me now .

—Miersen, Six Parts Water Day Two, Act I, Scene 5

About three years later, as I was watching his back disappear up the stairs, Loiosh said, " Okay, Boss . Now what?"

Nothing builds confidence in subordinates like a quick decision in the face of unexpected circumstances.

"Um," I told him.

That was as far as I'd gotten when the young man came back down the stairs and gestured for me go up. He sat down and returned to whatever he had been doing without giving me another word. I didn't say anything. When you're licked, you're licked.

I did, however, make a point of flicking my cloak aside so I could get to my rapier in a hurry if I needed to, and checked the surprises I had left about my person to make sure they were ready and accessible.

The upper floor was all one room with a high arched ceiling and decorated, if you will, with a strange assortment of items hanging from the walls: a bunch of plants, a pair of boots, a hat, a shirt, a ladle, a hammer, a bottle of wine, and more. It took me a moment to figure out that these represented some or all of the members of the Guild. It was quaint. Anything that stays trite long enough becomes quaint.

Chayoor was a burly, barrel-chested man with thin black curly hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and dark eyes. He rose as I approached, gave me a perfunctory bow, and seated himself while gesturing me toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. He had a desk, not a table. The benefits of power: You get your own desk. I'm not mocking it; I remember how I felt when I got my own desk

I sat down.

"Lord Taltos," he said. "I was informed you would be here."

"I should prefer to be known as Merss, if you don't mind."

"Very well," he said.

"Would you mind telling me who it was who informed you?"

"I'm sorry, that I cannot do."

Okay. Well. This conversation just wasn't going at all the way I'd planned it. The whole intimidating him thing had gotten off to a bad start.

"That's unfortunate," I said. "I have enemies, you know. Also friends. If I don't know whether it was a friend or an enemy that alerted you, it puts me in an uncomfortable position."

"It was a friend," he said.

Right. Just so you know, I didn't have any "friends" who knew where I was going. "And if it had been an enemy, you'd have told me?"

"I see your point," he said. "Nevertheless—"

"Yeah. Well, if it was a friend, I assume he asked you to cooperate with me?"

He frowned. "Not as such."

"Uh huh."

He looked uncomfortable, which was at least a little encouraging. "What exactly do you need?"

"I came here looking for my family," I said. "My mother's kin."

"Yes," he said. "I'm sorry about what happened."

I need to explain that Fenarian makes a distinction between, "I apologize for an injury," and, "I express my sympathy." He used the latter formulation. I grunted or something.

"I'm going to find out who did it," I said.

His eyebrow went up. "And then?"

I cocked my head at him. "Why, then I will turn the guilty party over to the duly constituted authority, of course."

It was his turn to grunt. "In Burz," he said, "the duly constituted authority is me."

"Is that the law?" I asked. "Or just how it works?"

"What's the difference?"

"You're a blunt son-of-a-bitch, I'll give you that."

He laughed, throwing his head back and letting his belly shake. I hadn't thought it was that funny.

"Yes, Lord, ah, Merss, I am a blunt son-of-a-bitch. And I'll tell you bluntly that I like how things are here in my town, and if you do anything to interfere with it, we will no longer be friends."

"Yeah," I said. "I guessed that part."

"So," he said. "Now what will you do?"

"Let me assume you had nothing against the Merss family, because if you're responsible, you wouldn't tell me. So, who did?"

"I couldn't tell you," he said.

I rubbed my chin. "You know," I said, "if you interfere with me finding out what I want to find out, you might no longer be my friend."

"Is that a threat?"

"I'm not sure. I guess it'll sort of do for one. As a threat, how does it rate?"

"Hollow," he said.

I fixed him with patented Jhereg stare number six, lowered my voice, and said, "Then you can safely ignore it, I guess."

I had the satisfaction of seeing that go home; he looked uncomfortable.

I stood up abruptly, before he could announce the end of the interview. "I'd appreciate it," I said, "if my name wouldn't go any further."

"It won't," he told me. "Only Shandy and I know it, and he won't say anything."

I nodded, turned, and made my way across the long, long room to the stairway, then down and out. Shandy didn't look up as I walked past him.

It was still raining when I got outside, but not too hard. I made it back to the Hat somewhere between wet and soaked.

" Boss, not to put too fine a point on it, but we need to get out of this place. Now. I mean, without stopping. Pick a direction and start walking."

"Yeah, I know.”

" Boss, they know who you are."

" I know.”

"That bastard could get rich just by dropping your name in the right ear."

" I know. But, Loiosh, why hasn't he done so already? Why am I still breathing?"

"Boss, can we please talk about this after we're out of town? I'm too old to learn to hunt for myself."