Steven Brust - Jhegaala

"Not here, exactly. But nearby, probably within an hour or so of town."

"Boss! We—wait, I still don't see—Dahni is working for the Jhereg?"

"Not working, exactly. I'm guessing they just found a local willing to do some things for them. You know, 'Deliver this guy to me, and I will make you a wealthy man indeed! That sort of thing."

"But then, you must have—oh. He'd be willing to rescue you because if he didn't, he wouldn't get paid."

"Right.”

"So, he was going to bring you—"

"Right to the assassin, yes. I had to count on you, chum."

"When did you put this together, Boss?"

"When Dahni made the remark about talking to me in the dark giving him an edge."

"Pretty clever."

"That's why you work for me, instead of the other way around."

"It thought it was the opposable thumbs.”

"That too.”

"You might have told me ."

" It wasn't the time for long explanations and recriminations. And hearing about how I should have gotten out of town when you said, and about how—"

"— you shouldn't have taken the amulet off just because your muscles were tired?"

"That, too.”

"So you think that's how they found you?"

"Probably. If they'd trailed me they'd have taken me before I got to a town. A day to teleport into the mountains to somewhere someone has memorized, and, with a good horse, maybe another day or two to get here. Yeah, it's about right."

"So here you are, flat on your back, can hardly stand up, with your left hand.. ."

He trailed off. "What's wrong with my left hand?"

"We'll know when the physicker is done, maybe nothing."

A chill went through me.

"Two word's, Boss: Castle Black"

"You know I won't do that to Morrolan. Besides, we'll never make it there."

After a moment's thought, he agreed with the second.

"What will they do now, Boss? Sneak in here and put a shine on you?"

"They know about you and Rocza. They'll need to come up with a way to disable you."

"Which is why they tried to—no, that doesn't make sense."

"No, that was the Count."

"But then, I still don't understand why the Count is protecting you , if he's the one who first took you."

I sighed. " Let me rest for a bit, Loiosh. That's going to take more explanation than I can deal with right now."

"Okay, Boss. Get some rest. I'll try to get us out of this mess, since it's obvious that you can't."

" You just always pick the right thing to say to cheer me up."

I did get some rest, though the dreams were ugly and woke me up repeatedly, as did the itches and the physicker. Why is it that when you most need rest and healing, those in charge of healing you never let you rest?

Later that day, the Count stopped by to see me. "My lord Merss," he said. "I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do—"

"You're doing it," I said, trying to speak loud enough for him to hear me. "And it isn't done."

His pure white brows came together. "How—?"

"I imagine someone will be sneaking in here to kill me. Probably tonight or tomorrow. No, I shouldn't say that. He'll be trying to kill me; I have no way of knowing if it will involve sneaking in here or some other approach entirely."

He shook his head. "No. I've, ah, spoken to those responsible. They'll make no effort—"

"They aren't the ones who will be coming."

"Then who?"

"I can't tell you."

"Can't tell me?"

"That is, I don't choose to."

He opened his mouth and closed it. "Very well," he said. "Can you tell me how best to guard you?"

Now he was asking the hard questions.

Well, if it were me, how would I do it? I wouldn't bribe a guard; too risky if he said no. Pure stealth would be an option, but how to deal with guards in the actual room, which is an obvious step, not to mention Loiosh and Rocza? If it were me, I'd never have a plan that involved fighting. Fighting is dangerous, even if you have an edge because, say, you're invis—

"Sorcery," I said. "The attack will come using sorcery."

"Witchcraft?"

"No, the, ah, the Art of the elfs. It's different."

He rubbed the back of his hand over his lips. "I've heard of such things. I know nothing about how it works, or how to defend against it."

"Yeah," I said. "I know something about it, but defending against it, when you don't know what form the attack will take, well, that's rough. He can't come at me directly because, ah, he can't. But he could blow up your manor, or make a chunk of roof fall on my head, or, well, I don't know. There are many possibilities."

"Perhaps I should I hide you."

I thought about another ride on a wagon and moaned to myself. "Perhaps you should," I said.

"Aybrahmis says you shouldn't be moved, but—"

"Who?"

"The physicker."

"Oh."

"But if it's between that, and permitting you to be, to be taken from under my roof—"

"What about you?"

"Me? Once I have you safe, I shall retire to the City. I shall be having the servants pack what I need directly when we finish our talk."

"What a coward, Boss!"

"I knew there was something I admired about him."

"I'll never get tired of handing you set-ups ."

"Someday I may ignore one, just to watch you twitch."

He sort of hissed a disbelieving laugh into my head.

"I don't suppose you know of a convenient cave?"

"Cave? No, I know of no caves. Why?"

"I don't know, hiding in caves is supposed to be traditional."

He looked dubious. I hadn't been serious anyway.

The trouble was, the assassin could do anything, especially if he were a sorcerer. Well, okay, he couldn't do anything to me directly; the gold Phoenix Stone prevented that. But he didn't need to, either. He could blow up the entire manor. Sure, assassins don't like to do things that will call attention to ourselves—that is, themselves—but out here in the East, who cared? And I had no idea how skilled he was. When you're after someone, you know who he is—as I told Loiosh, you know everything there is to know about him before you make a move. When someone is coming after you, you don't know anything.

Well, no, there was one thing we knew: that there was an assassin after me. And there was another thing that we could find out, if we went about it right.

"What do you think, Loiosh?"

"He might have bolted."

"Yeah, I know. But if he hasn't?"

"I can't think of anything better, Boss. But we'd best do it fast. It would be embarrassing if the Jhereg put a shine on you right before we were about to go into action."

"You're sounding like me."

"Easterners are short. Jhereg are reptiles. Water is wet. I sound like you."

I let him have that one and turned my attention—what there was of it—back to His Lordship. "Okay, here's what we're going to do."

"Eh?" He put his ear next to my mouth so I wouldn't have to shout.

"Get Dahni," I told him.

He looked like he was about to ask why but thought better of it, and just nodded. He went out to give the orders, and Aybrahmis came back in and fiddled with my left hand while I studied a painting on the wall to my right. It showed a waterfall. I like waterfalls. This one had a sort of dreamy quality, which is neither here nor there, but it did have the sense of motion, which is what a painting of a waterfall ought to have. There were also some effects where the droplets of water blended into the mist; a sort of fool-the-eye kind of effect that I liked. In my next life, I'll be an art critic. I wondered which House an art critic was likely to be found in. I hadn't read enough of them to know.