Steven Brust - Dzur

Deleen kept digging away.

He’d occasionally ask me a question, like, “Ever heard of someone called Daifan?”

“No.”

He’d grunt, nod, and go back to work.

Then he’d ask about some incident in the history of the Jhereg, like the Shay Market Slaughter, and I’d tell him what I knew. He’d grunt and go back to work.

On the second day he said, “Who was Curithne?”

“Was?” I said.

He nodded. “He’s dead. Who was he?”

“When did he die?”

“About a year and a half ago.”

“Murdered?”

“No. At least, not as far as anyone knows. Who was he?”

“According to rumor, the number-one man in the Jhereg.”

“Do you believe the rumors?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“He died, eh?”

But Deleen was already back running his fingers through sheafs of something called the Adrilankha Town Crier.

Curithne had died while I was gone. Interesting. Who was sitting at the head of the table now? The Demon? Poletra? Cu­rithne dying would set off—

“Can you ask Dotti for the Candletown Flame for the last year?”

“On my way,” I said.

By the time—early the next day—that he informed me that there appeared to be some sort of power struggle going on in the upper echelons of the Jhereg, I had just about come to the same conclusion myself.

“It looks,” he said, “like no one has yet taken the place of Lord Curithne, within the Right Hand of the Jhereg.”

“Have there been bodies turning up at an unusual rate?”

“No. One sorceress from what you call the Left Hand was killed with a Morganti weapon not long ago. That’s been the only murder associated with the Jhereg lately.”

I kept my face expressionless and said, “Then there’s no war going on.”

“That would seem to be the case. There are certain actions that the Empire takes when Jhereg start killing each other, and—”

“Actions?”

“Certain departments within the Phoenix Guard are increased in size. Others are moved to the area where there is trouble.”

“I see.”

“Yes, and the Empire hasn’t done those things.”

“So, all right. A bunch of the bosses of the Jhereg are trying to get into position to run the thing. Have you found names, yet?”

“I’m looking for that, but it’s difficult. Even the small local sheets don’t like to give the names of high-level Jhereg.”

“Go figure.”

“But there is one who is known as Poletra.”

“Uh huh.”

“Another named Daifan, usually called ‘the Demon’.”

“Oh.”

“Hmmm?”

“I thought his name was ... never mind.”

He started to say something, then stopped, then said, “There are at least two others, maybe three. I’m still trying to find out who they are.”

“But no bodies turning up.”

“So far.”

“All right,” I said. “But what does that have to do with the Left Hand?”

“Nothing that I can tell.”

“Oh.”

“Although—”

“Yes?”

“Have you heard of someone named Terion?”

“Sure.”

“Would he be one of the contenders?”

“Probably.”

Deleen shuffled a few copies of some gossip rag, and said, “There’s a story that he has a mistress who is in the Left Hand.”

“You get a name of the mistress?”

“Triesco.”

“Ah ha.”

“Hmmm?”

“That means something; I just have to figure out what.”

“Oh. All right. What can you tell me about her?”

I won’t add that I felt like an idiot for not starting with her, the one name I had. Deleen did a bit of checking around and got me what little there was; then I headed back out onto the streets, and made my careful way back to South Adrilankha, Loiosh and Rocza watch­ing over me.

“Hey, Boss. How was the library today?”

“Boring, but I may be getting closer to knowing a part of what some people think might be an aspect of a bit of what is going on.”

“So everything is solved, then. Good. What about the Irregulars?”

“The which?”

“The Jhereg Irregulars.”

“Loiosh, I’m not sure what—”

“It’s easier than calling them Those Friends of Ric Who Are Wandering Around Trying to Find Things Out for You.”

“Oh. Them. I’ll be meeting with a few of them tonight.”

“Good. That might get you closer to knowing a part of—”

“Don’t start, Loiosh.”

I did meet with several of them. We’d arrange to get together in some local inn, sit in a back corner, and talk for a while; then I’d move on to a different place and meet with another. It kept me busy, and I discovered to my annoyance that I was now thinking of them as the Irregulars. I was also starting to get a pretty good feel for the scope of the Left Hand’s involvement in the area.

They were trying to determine the outcome. They wanted to be the ones to decide who held the top seat on the Council of the Jhereg.

Which, of course, begged the question why.

Because Triesco was Terion’s lover? Was that all there was to it? Could all of this nonsense have its source in nothing but a love affair?

Well, but then, that’s what had gotten me involved, hadn’t it? Well, yes, but I was an Easterner.

Which meant what, exactly?

I mentally scowled and put that thought away for a while, along with the additional and related question of why that sor­ceress had shown up and done, well, whatever it is she had tried to do to me.

I had been figuring that last to be connected to the Jhereg’s intense, burning desire to make an empty pair of boots out of me, even though it made no sense. It occurred to me now that it could be part of the power play within the Jhereg, only that made even less sense.

I returned to my room from the last meeting, scowling and muttering as I walked.

“Boss!”

I stopped, about forty feet from the entrance to the inn. “What is it?” I was in an inset doorway, my hand on the hilt of Lady Tel­dra, which was comforting in a couple of different ways. I wasn’t certain of exactly how I got there.

“Someone is in the room. I think. I’m outside, and I smell something.”

“Wonderful. Can you check it out without getting yourself fried?”

“I think so.”

“Don’t take chances. There’s nothing I need to go back there for.”

“Understood. I’ll just sort of peek in the window.”

Two minutes later I pushed the curtain aside, walked into the room, and said, “Hello, Kiera. How did you find me? Did you track Loiosh?”

She stood up and smiled. “I had a friend do it.”

Loiosh flew over from her shoulder to mine. “Sit down,” I said. “You gave me a start.”

“Yes. Sorry. There’s no way to reach you, you know.”

“I know. And I wish it weren’t so easy to find me.”

“It isn’t easy.”

“Still, if your friend can do it—”

“That doesn’t mean someone else can.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, first someone has to think of it, which isn’t as likely as you might think.”

“Actually, it’s a certainty. Someone tried not long ago.”

“Oh.”

“You seem surprised.”

“I am. It requires either a very close knowledge of Loiosh, or some object connected to him. And then it requires a skill in witchcraft. And that’s after even thinking about it, which sur­prises me to begin with.”

“I know, Kiera. It makes me nervous. Speaking of witchcraft, how is Morrolan?”

“I don’t know him that well.”

I felt myself flushing a little. “When you said witchcraft, I assumed—”