Steven Brust - Jhegaala

"What's the play, Boss?"

" I bash in the door, you and Rocza get in his face, and we improvise from there. You're pretty sure he's the only one in the place?"

"No sounds from in there for hours, Boss ."

" All right . Ready?"

"Yeah. I didn't hear the door lock, by the way."

"You mean I don't get to break it down? Damn."

He was right, the latch lifted easily, and I flung it open. The damned light assaulted my eyes, and I was mostly blind. Loiosh and Rocza flew in and I followed, hoping for the best.

There was a flurry of movement, some cursing, and I squinted hard and got my hands on him; then I had a dagger out and was holding it at the back of his neck. He lashed out and caught me one in the face, then kicked, but I saw that well enough to dodge it. I grabbed him harder and remembered I was dealing with a human, so I shifted the knife to his throat and he obligingly stopped moving. The loudest sound in the room was his breathing. I had the feeling he wasn't happy.

"Well met, friend Dahni. How are you on this fine evening, with the stars shining and all crickets chirping merrily and night-finches cooing so sweetly?"

He just kept breathing.

My eyes were starting to adjust. I pushed him backward and onto a stuffed chair, keeping pressure on the knife at his throat. He brought his chin up. I could now see that he was glaring, which failed to startle me.

"I will ask questions," I said. "And you will answer them. If you don't answer them, I'll decide you have no value to me. If you do answer them, I'll let you live. If I later find out you've lied to me, I will return. Are we clear on the basics?"

"It was the jhereg," he said. "They followed me."

"My familiar has skills which aren't exactly traditional," I said.

"It isn't too late," he told me. "Walk out the door, and I'll just forget this happened."

"Kind of you," I said. "Now, first of all, who do you work for?"

"You have no idea what you're—"

I slapped him, hard. "Don't even start."

He just sat there, glaring at me.

"No," I said. "That won't do. I need an answer. If you don't answer me, I will kill you. Has your employer earned that kind of loyalty?"

Somewhere, behind his eyes, he was thinking. I gave him some time.

"I work for Count Saekeresh," he said at last.

I released the pressure on his throat just a little—call it a reward of sorts. "What do you do for him?"

"I, ah, handle problems I'd guess you'd say."

"I guess I would. What did he want to recruit me for?"

"I don't know," he said. "He never told me."

I considered whether I believed that. While considering, I said, "Then I suppose you have no idea why he didn't just ask me himself when we spoke?"

There was a little flicker there as I watched him; a hint of confusion, as if the question puzzled him. That deserved some consideration.

About two seconds' worth.

"When were you given the job?"

"What job?"

"Of recruiting me."

He blinked. "I don't know. Two, three days ago, I guess?"

"And what, exactly, were you told?"

"To recruit you."

I quickly pulled the dagger from his throat, turned it in my hand, and smacked the side of his face with the hilt; not too hard, but hard enough to leave a little cut on his cheekbone. Before he could react, the blade was back at his throat, pressing almost hard enough to cut. "You've been doing so well. Why mess it up?"

He glowered. I waited. He said, "I was told to find out what you were up to."

I nodded and once more relieved the pressure a bit. "It's much better when you tell the truth."

His eyes glinted. "My ma always told me that," he said. "But when I told the truth, I'd get a whupping."

I decided I liked him. I hoped I wouldn't have to kill him.

"And what did you find out that I'm up to?"

"I haven't come to any conclusions."

"You'll let me know when you do?"

"I'll send it by the post."

"Is there a good post system in this country?"

"So-so. The county system is good, though. The Guild runs it."

"Is there anything they don't run?"

"The Count. Me. Perhaps you."

"Perhaps?"

His eyes flicked down to my wrist, still holding the knife at his throat, then back to my face. "I shouldn't presume. Isn't your arm getting tired?"

"No, I'm fine. What happened to Orbahn?"

"Who? Oh. Him. I've no idea. He might be traveling. He travels a lot."

"Does he work for the Guild?"

"Everyone either works for the Guild, or works for the Count. Everyone."

"Including the witches?"

"Hmm. I don't know. I think you need to have lived here all your life to understand how that works. And maybe you still wouldn't."

That agreed with my assessment too, but I didn't say so. "And this business of 'light' and 'dark' witches?"

"I've heard of dark witches. I'm told the Merss family practiced the darker sort. I don't know if it's true. And I don't know what it means. It sounds odd to me. Am I going to get

a turn asking questions?"

"Sure, when you're holding the knife."

"Speaking of, would you mind taking that thing away from my throat? I get the feeling that if say something that annoys you it might slip."

"I have to admire your instincts. Keep talking."

He looked unhappy. He evidently didn't want to tell me. People seem never to want to tell me the things I want to know. It could get on my nerves, if I let it. I increased the pressure on his neck.

"You must know," he said, "you made quite, um, an impression when you arrived."

"Go on," I said.

"I mean, you immediately found the representative of the Guild and, as I understand it, as much as told him to his face you were going to break up the Guild."

"Orbahn," I said.

He nodded. "And then, of course, the Guild put word out to keep an eye on you."

"Uh huh."

"And then you started looking for Black Witches."

Of course I did. Yeah, it even made sense. Sometimes I just assume people are lying, and I try to figure out the motive behind the lie. That's not that bad, really; only I forget that other people might be doing the same thing to me.

"Right," I said. "Keep talking."

"This wasn't what His Lordship told me, this was just stuff I've heard."

"Yes, I understand. You hear things. Go on."

"So His Lordship called me in, and said I was to approach you about working with him, but wasn't to say who he was. I was just to see if you had any interest in working with, ah, an unnamed party in finding out who had killed those witches. He told me—"

"Witches," I repeated. "It was a family. There were kids. One of them couldn't have been more than...okay, go on."

He swallowed and nodded. "He told me that you had been representing them as your family, and were using their name, so that I was to stick with that."

"Did you ask him what he thought my real name might be?"

He shook his head. "I don't ask him things. He just—"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. Would you say he had an idea of what my name might be?"

He spread his hands. "I have no way of guessing, Lord M . . . my lord. I'm sorry."

"Keep calling me Merss. You might as well."

"Yes, Lord Merss."

"What else did he tell you? Anything to imply that I might be dangerous?"

He frowned. "Not in so many words, but, well, there was something about the way he talked about you that made me nervous."

"You know, friend Dahni, this is the strangest town I have ever been in."

"You need to get out more."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind. Who killed them?"

"Who?"

"You know who."

"The Merss family? I don't know. The Count doesn't know. He doesn't think you did."

"Yeah, I don't I think did either."