Steven Brust - Jhegaala

"You don't hunt, you scavenge."

"Boss—"

"Loiosh, have you ever known me to walk into something this strange and just walk away from it without finding out what's going on?"

"This would be a really, really good time to start."

"I'll take it under advisement"

I got inarticulate thoughts that were probably the jhereg equivalent of cursing.

I stamped some of the rain off my clothes and shook my head like a dog.

"Thanks for the shower, Boss."

"Like you were dry before?"

I found a drink and a chair and sat down.

" Loiosh, how in blazes did they learn my name?"

"Huh? You don't know?"

"You do?"

" Of course!"

"All right, how?"

"When you took the amulet off and did the spell, Boss. Remember, I felt something?"

This time it was my turn to curse. "They got it right out of my head."

"There's still the question of who did it."

"Who could it be? It wasn't the Jhereg. If they knew I was here, they'd send someone in to kill me. End of discussion."

'Uh, okay.”

"There's Chayoor himself.”

"Boss, he didn't tell himself who you are; someone has to have told him.”

"Sorry, chum. I'm not just going over who might have told Chayoor, I'm trying to work out all the players in this mess."

" Heh. Good luck with that."

"There's Orbahn, who's either too helpful, or not helpful enough."

"Right.”

"There are these witches. There's most likely a Coven. They could have acted on their own behalf, as the Coven. Even if not, one of their members must have done the Working, so either way they could know.

"Then there's the coachman, who's the only guy I've found who has been really helpful, which makes me suspicious."

"Uh... all right.”

"And then there's Count Saekeresh, however he fits in. Have I left anyone out?"

"Sure. Everyone else in town, and everyone, everyone knows.”

"I take your point, Loiosh. But let's keep it within reason."

"We're way beyond that, Boss."

"Loiosh.”

"All right. The host?"

"Right. The host. Good position to hear things, and knows I've been asking questions."

"Boss, can't we please leave?"

"No."

I accepted the psychic form of a resigned sigh and continued my ruminations.

"What are you thinking about, Boss? You know and I know you're going to march up to the Count and try to intimidate him. Probably work as well as—"

"Shut up.”

I hate it when he's right.

Well, if I was going to do it, may as well do it properly. I went over to Inchay. "Can you find someone to run a message to Count Saekeresh for me?"

He looked at me sharply, decided that was a mistake, and washed a cup that didn't need washing while he thought it over. At last he said, "Very well. What is the message?"

"If you have paper and ink."

He nodded, dried his hands, and vanished into a small room behind the bar, then emerged with the necessary equipment. I wrote and handed it to him, unsealed.

"How urgent is it?"

"Today would be good."

"I'll see that it gets there today."

I gave him more of that jingly stuff that keeps tradesmen wanting to be helpful, then settled back to see if Orbahn would show up, and if Loiosh would calm down.

No, and no.

Later I had more lamb stew. Sometimes I get into ruts where I'll eat the same thing for days. I used to do that, long ago, I guess in part out of laziness. Cawti had largely broken me of the habit just because I liked trying new ideas out on her, but now I was falling back into the pattern. But I guess part of it was that the lamb stew was good. I

liked the bread, too; having the right kind of bread to mop up stew is its own art.

No, and no.

The place started to fill up, and I moved to a back table. I was getting more covert looks than I had before; I wasn't sure exactly what sort of word was spreading about me, but something was. I reflected that that was part of the problem—I didn't know. I'd gotten spoiled, I suppose, by having Kragar near at hand, and access to Morrolan's spy network (he never used that term, I think he found it distasteful, but that's what it was), and Kiera and her nearly endless knowledge of the arcana of the Underworld. If I wanted to know what was going on, all I had to do was decide who to ask first; eventually I'd find out. Here, I was in the dark, and I didn't care for it. Cawti would have told me to figure out exactly what I wanted to accomplish, and then helped me break it down into steps, and—

I found myself wanting a very strong drink and didn't take it because getting drunk right then would have been a stupid idea, and because I hate being trite. It can lead to being quaint. Instead, I made circles on the table with my finger in the moisture from my glass. I found I'd been doing that a lot lately, and wondered about it. But not very much.

Some hours later, one of the barmaids tapped my shoulder and indicated the host, who was trying to get my attention. I made my way over to him, and he handed me a note. I nodded and returned to my table to read it. I had to shift my chair to a place where my shadow wasn't blocking the light from the nearest lamp; then I broke the seal and unfolded the thick parchment. G6od paper, I noticed; they probably made it locally.

"My Lord Merss," it read, "His Lord wishes above all to present His Condolences upon your recent loss, and to assure you that all steps are being taken to bring the perpetrators to justice. Unfortunately, His Lordship's health does not permit visitors at this time, but he hopes you will know that you are in his thoughts in the kindest way. I remain, my Lord, Your Servant, Tahchay Loiosh, Scribe."

"Hey, he has the same name as me," said Loiosh.

"He probably doesn't fly as well," I said.

I folded the note carefully in half, and put it into an inside pocket of my cloak while I thought about it. It wasn't as if I were surprised; I hadn't expected him to jump at the chance to see me. I'd had a plan for what to do in this case, back a long time ago— last night—when I'd worked it all out. Only since then everything had come loose, and was now flapping in the breeze.

"Well, Boss? Going to visit him anyway?"

"You know damned well I am."

"Yeah. Boss, are you trying to get killed?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Okay" I gave it some thought. " No , I don't think so."

"All right. Good."

People kept coming into the place, all of them wet and dripping. I didn't feel like going out, and they didn't feel like giving me any more than the occasional hostile glance. I'd somehow built Fenario up in my head into this perfect land, full of happy, smiling people who would greet me like a long-lost brother. It was downright disheartening. I was tempted to just start breaking random arms and legs.

And still no sign of Orbahn. I was beginning to think he was avoiding me. Was that suspicious? Well, sure. What, by Barlan's Sacred Slime Trail, wasn't suspicious at this point? Anything anyone did or didn't do, said or didn't say, might mean he was looking to put a knife in me.

Of course, to some degree, I'd lived with that most of my life. The difference was, I used to know the game and the rules. Yeah, fine, but, okay, Vlad, who broke the rules?

Cawti. She's the one who got herself involved in things we had no business getting involved in.