Steven Brust - Hawk

“They tried to kill you?”

“Yeah.”

“Outside of my house?”

I nodded. “Where my son lives.” I released the arm of the chair and flexed my hand.

Her nostrils flared. I could see her register the information-the threat to her, the threat to Vlad Norathar. Her jaw tightened.

I said, “I’m working on it, but-”

I broke off and waited. After a moment, she said, “I’m sorry, Vladimir, but it isn’t safe for you to try to see him anymore.”

I nodded.

Her eyes were deep-set, and such a warm brown. I said, “I’m starting a project. I need to fix this.”

“Is this project related to the rumors I’ve heard?”

“What do the rumors say?”

“There’s a lot of money involved.”

After working to get the rumors started, I guess I couldn’t complain that they were floating around. “And that’s what brought you here?”

“No, seeing you brought me here.”

“All right.”

“Vladimir, what are you working on?”

“A plan. If it works, it’ll get the Jhereg off me. For good.”

It crossed my mind that, even if this didn’t work, it was worth the effort just for the look on the face of everyone I told.

“Can you do it?” she said.

“I think so.”

“Can I help?”

“Yes. Go somewhere safe until this is over. Don’t let anything happen to the boy, or yourself. That will take a huge load off my mind. It will help.”

I’m pretty sure that isn’t what she had in mind when she offered to help, but after a moment, she nodded. “I’ll go stay with Norathar.”

“Perfect,” I said. Then, “How’s the boy?”

“As well as he was a month ago. He may be starting to miss you.”

I felt a smile grow. “Good.”

She gave me that pressed-lip smile that means she’s pretending to think it isn’t funny. There was a moment, but then I looked away and so did she.

Let’s just not dwell on it, okay?

“What else is going on?”

She filled me in on details, mostly antics about Vlad Norathar, which I’d tell you about, because they prove what a remarkable kid he is, but they’re private so you’ll just have to trust me. Eventually, Cawti said that she should be going.

I nodded. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” she said.

I avoided watching her walk away, because that would have just made everything worse. After she’d left, I sat there for a while. I could have thanked Loiosh for not saying anything, but it wasn’t necessary. Once again, though for different reasons, it took me a long time to fall asleep.

* * *

Look at it this way: An organization like the Jhereg operates by supplying things that people want but the law doesn’t want them to have, or that are cheaper or better in their illegal versions. The Jhereg has a reputation for using violence casually and effectively. Speaking as someone who spent years providing that violence, I can say that the effectively part is true, but the casually part is a little exaggerated.

There are reasons for the violence, and also reasons for it to be exaggerated. People who break the law every day tend to be a bit casual about smacking someone with the hilt of a dagger or breaking his leg with a lepip. You learn to be casual about it by being around it, or you’re around it because you’re the sort of person who doesn’t mind that, or both. Also, since we-pardon me, they-can’t count on the Empire to make sure everyone in the organization follows the rules, they have to do it themselves. Last, on the rare occasions someone not in the Jhereg comes into conflict with their interests, it’s useful to have a reputation for ruthlessness. If you scare someone enough, you usually don’t have to do the thing he’s afraid of.

That’s where the violence comes from, and why it serves the Jhereg’s interest for it to be exaggerated. But remember that violence costs money-either because you’re paying someone to commit the violence, or because the existence of violence is bad for business, or both.

See, what a Jhereg wants is money. Money lets you live better, keeps you safe, and lets everyone know how good or important you are in case that’s what matters to you. You need violence-or the threat of violence-to protect the money, but it’s the money that matters. That’s what I was counting on.

It isn’t that simple, though.

Suppose you’re running a few gambling operations and maybe a brothel or two and handling some loans. Someone comes into your area and messes up a game, robs a brothel, and threatens your people. If he then comes up to you and wants to make it right by paying you money, you aren’t going to be inclined to take it. Money’s good, but not if everyone around sees him pushing you around and getting away with it-that sort of thing will see you out of business fast. And maybe out of business in the permanent, embalming-gloss-on-your-skin sort of way.

Of course, the guy might offer you so much money that you’d consider taking it anyway. But it would have to be boatloads of gold. I mean big boats: the real cargo skybenders, not the canal skiffs.

That was, more or less, the position I’d gotten myself into, except that I didn’t have big boatloads of gold. Instead, I had something I hoped was just as good.

If I was wrong, I’d find out.

* * *

I slept well enough to make me realize that sleep had been rough for the last few years. It was good. I smelled klava, which brought me into Kragar’s office, where he grunted and pointed me to a covered glass. It was still hot.

I didn’t remember Kragar being unpleasant in the morning, but that may have been because I’d been the boss, or else because he never used to get in that early. In any case, he didn’t say a word, so I took my klava off and spent some quality time sharpening my cutlery. When I was done, I practiced a few draws-left sleeve to right hand, left boot, cloak both sides, and right-hand shoulder. I was horribly out of practice.

A couple of hours later I was less out of practice-some things come back pretty quickly. Kragar had a target set up, which let me throw some knives at things that weren’t trying to hurt me, and I did all right.

All in all, I was feeling a little better about my ability to survive. I was considering what my next move should be when the Jhereg made it for me.

I mean, as horribly unsafe places go, I figured I was in a fairly safe one: they couldn’t get at me while I was in Kragar’s office except by buying someone or infiltrating someone. Oh, I suppose they could have staged a military-style assault or blown up the building, but, seriously, they don’t do that kind of thing. The Empire gets touchy about it. So, yeah, I figured I was fairly safe, Loiosh’s snide remarks to the contrary.

I was pacing back and forth in the room I slept in, talking over details of my plan with Loiosh, when I heard excited voices and heavy boots from just outside the door. I touched Lady Teldra’s hilt and ran toward the sounds.

I counted six of Kragar’s people standing in front of the desk that Melestav used to sit at before I killed him. Two of them had weapons out, the rest were staring at the floor. There was a lot of blood on the floor. And a body.

“All right,” one of them said. “He’s safe here. Find a healer.”

He?

I started to get closer, but one of the bodyguards gave me a look, so I changed my mind.

I said, “Is it Kragar?”

The bodyguard was a broad-shouldered guy with thin lips and a tall forehead. He hesitated, then nodded.

“How is he?” I said.

“Took one in the back, got his heart. He’s still breathing. We’ve sent for a physicker.”

“How did they even notice him?”

The guy shrugged.

“Where did they get him?”