Douglas Hulick - Among Thieves

I put an ahrami seed into my mouth and began walking away, up the street.

Footsteps came up behind me. I was just getting ready to turn around when I felt a hand grab me across the back of the neck. Another took my right shoulder and steered me into the wall. I bounced off it once, got shoved up against it again. The seed popped out of my mouth and went skittering away on the paving stones. I could hear laughter and jeers coming from the Imperial gate.

Lyria put her mouth up to my ear. “No one summons me out of the Imperial cordon, especially not a Crawler like you.”

“Back off, Sash,” I said into the wall. “I’m here as a favor.”

“To whom, Iron Degan? Did he send you?”

“Iron’s dead. I’m here as a favor to you, you stupid White.” The pressure on my neck eased momentarily, and I twisted around and shook off her grip. She didn’t bother to react.

“What do you mean, he’s dead?” she said.

“What the hell do you think I mean?” I said, rubbing where my shoulder had hit the wall especially hard. “Dead. I’m sure you’re familiar with the condition, at least secondhand.”

“You’re certain?”

“I saw him take the steel cure myself.”

“Who did it?”

I shook my head. “Not important. What is important is that I’m here to help you.”

“You help me?” Lyria stepped forward, forcing me back against the wall. “In case you’ve forgotten, you and your friend killed two of my sword brothers. The only reason I didn’t kill you before was because of my word to Iron Degan.” She smiled wickedly. “But now that he’s dead, I suppose I’m free of that, aren’t I?”

“That’s just it,” I said. “He’s dead, but your word to him isn’t; it’s gone up for grabs.”

Her back went as stiff as if she’d been called to attention herself. “What?”

That was more like it. “Your Oath wasn’t just a deal with Iron,” I said. “It was a promise to the entire Order of the Degans. If the degan who holds your Oath dies, the other degans are free to pick up the promise.”

“You think I’m an idiot?” she said. “I know the terms of the bargain. My obligation ended when I delivered you!”

“That’s not how I remember the conversation going outside the wineshop,” I said.

Lyria’s hand moved to the handle of her sword. She looked far too willing to use it at the moment. “I think maybe you’re remembering wrong, Crawler.”

I turned my head and spit into the street. Lyria puffed up even more.

“I don’t misremember things,” I said, meeting her eye, “especially when it comes to Sashes and debts.”

She pressed against me further, holding me against the wall with her body. Under other circumstances, I might not have minded; there were some interesting things going on under that uniform. As it was, though, I didn’t even have space to draw a decent breath.

“Are you threatening me, little man?”

“Not threatening; just telling. Iron’s dead. Unless the degans hear otherwise, the Order’s going to assume you still owe him. They’ll come collecting, and I’m guessing they won’t give you credit for services previously rendered. You’ll get to start your debt from the beginning.”

I watched as realization crept into her eyes, followed closely by fear. Whites were supposed to serve the emperor first, last, and always; owing anyone else service-especially someone like the degans-was strictly beyond the pale. I couldn’t guess about the deal she had struck with Iron, but I could guess what would happen if she was found out: excommunication, banishment, possibly even a public execution for treason. Not things someone who had sworn her life and soul to the emperor would care to consider.

She needed to keep this quiet.

She needed me.

“And I suppose you can fix this?” she said sourly.

“I was the only witness, remember?” I said. “There were just the three of us there when you delivered me. If I tell the degans you cleared your debt with Iron, you’ll be off the hook.”

Lyria took half a pace back and crossed her arms. “And why should they believe you?”

“You beat the crap out of me and delivered me to Iron Degan,” I said. “Plus, I’m Kin. Do you honestly think they’d believe I’d lie for a White Sash, especially under those circumstances?”

“And you don’t think your volunteering the information might raise some questions?”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “You really don’t understand how this works, do you?” Stupid Whites. I looked up into her eyes. Still smoldering but with a trace of interest in them, too, I noted. Good.

“Listen,” I said, “I don’t go to them-we wait for them to come to you. When they do, you tell them Iron and you are straight. When they don’t believe you, you mention I was there. The degans hunt me down and ask me questions. After being vague with my answers and generally pissing them off, the degans scare me enough that I grudgingly admit that, yes, Iron said your debt was paid.” I spread my arms and smiled. “Problem solved.”

“And if they don’t believe you were there?”

“I know where his sword ended up,” I said. “They’ll believe me.”

Lyria studied me for a long moment. “How much?” she said at last.

“One service, payable to me-the same as you owed Iron Degan.”

She shifted on her feet. “What service?”

I made a show of straightening my clothes. “Hit me.”

“What?”

“We’ve been talking quietly for too long,” I said. “Your friends at the gate are probably getting suspicious. Hit me, and I’ll tell you the favor I want.”

“No problem.” I saw a blur, felt something hard connect with my jaw. I went down.

“If that wasn’t convincing, I can do it again,” said Lyria. She sounded far too pleased with herself.

“ ’S okay,” I grumbled. I rolled over and looked up at her. No smile, but the sparkle in her eyes was all too evident. I ran my hand over my jaw, just to make sure it was still in one piece.

“Well?” she said as I climbed slowly to my feet. I hoped she was keeping her fists cocked just for show.

“Remember that book you were looking for in the Barren? The one you and Degan-excuse me, Bronze Degan-nearly killed each other over?”

“Ye-es.”

“I want you to tell the emperor that it was destroyed in the fire in Ten Ways.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I have what’s left of it. You’ll have proof.”

“Was it destroyed in the fire?”

“As far as you know.”

Lyria ground her teeth. “I am not going to lie about the thing I was ordered to recover,” she said. “And certainly not to the emperor!”

“You understand this is blackmail, right?” I said. “And that, for you to get what you want, you have to do what I want?”

“Yes, but I’m still not going to do it.”

“Why the hell not?”

Lyria looked at me for a long moment, then turned and began walking away. “I can’t,” she said.

I grabbed her shoulder and swung her around. “You don’t understand,” I snapped. “You don’t have a choice. It’s me or the degans-it’s that simple.”

“No, it’s not!” she said. “I’ve already broken the oath I took to the emperor once. I’m not going to do it again.”

“Your oath?” I said. “Screw your oath! Let me tell you something about promises; they aren’t blind, they aren’t immutable, and they aren’t fragile. I’ve seen more oaths and promises broken in the last few days than I want to think about, but I learned something about them in the process-you can’t keep every one of them. No matter how hard you try, it’s just not possible. So you have to choose, not only which ones you are going to keep, but how you’re going to keep them. You have to look behind the words, behind what you want them to mean, and see what they’re really about.