Robert Asprin - Tales From The Vulgar Unicorn

The slaver sank down at the recently vacated table and immediately received two unordered goblets of expensive qualis. Settling next to him, Zalbar noted that this table had a clear view of all entrances and exits of the tavern and his estimation of Hakiem went up yet another notch.

'If I had thought of it sooner, I would have suggested that your man on the rooftop join us,' the Hell Hound commented. 'I feel I owe him a drink of thanks.'

'That man is a woman, Moria; she works the darkness better than I do ... and without the benefits of protective coloration.'

'Well, I'd still like to thank her.'

'I'd advise against it.' The slaver grinned. 'She hates Rankans, and the Hell Hounds in particular. She only intervened at my orders.'

'You remind me of several questions.' Zalbar set his goblet down. 'Why did you act on my behalf tonight? And how is it that you know the cry the army uses to warn of archers?'

'In good time. First you must answer a question of mine. I'm not used to giving out information for free, and since I told you the identity of your enemy, perhaps now you can tell me why Kurd would set an assassin on your trail?'

After taking a thoughtful sip of his drink, Zalbar began to explain the situation between himself and Kurd. As the story unfolded, the Hell Hound found he was saying more than was necessary, and was puzzled as to why he would reveal to Jubal the anger and bitterness he had kept secret even from his own force. Perhaps, it was because, unlike his comrades whom he respected, Zalbar saw the slaver as a man so corrupt that his own darkest thoughts and doubts would seem commonplace by comparison.

Jubal listened in silence until the Hell Hound was finished, then nodded slowly. 'Yes, that makes sense now,' he murmured. .

'The irony is that at the moment of attack I was bemoaning my inability to do anything about Kurd. For a while, at least, an assassin is unnecessary. I am under orders to leave Kurd alone.'

Instead of laughing, Jubal studied his opposite thoughtfully. 'Strange you should say that.' He spoke with measured care. 'I also have a problem I am currently unable to deal with. Perhaps we can solve each other's problems.'

'Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?' Zalbar asked, suddenly suspicious.

'In a way. Actually this is better. Now, in return for the favour I must ask, I can offer something you want. If you address yourself to my problem, I'll put an end to Kurd's practice for you.'

'I assume that what you want is illegal. If you really think I'd...'

'It is not illegal!' Jubal spat with venom. 'I don't need your help to break the law, that's easy enough to do despite the efforts of your so-called elite force. No, Hell Hound, I find it necessary to offer you a bribe to do your job - to enforce the law.'

'Any citizen can appeal to any Hell Hound for assistance.' Zalbar felt his own anger grow. 'If it is indeed within the law, you don't have to...'

'Fine!' the slaver interrupted. 'Then, as a Rankan citizen I ask you to investigate and stop a wave of murders - someone is killing my people; hunting blue-masks through the streets as if they were diseased animals.'

'I ... I see.'

'And I see that this comes as no surprise,' Jubal snarled. 'Well, Hell Hound, do your duty. I make no pretence about my people, but they are being executed without a trial or hearing. That's murder. Or do you hesitate because it's one of your own who's doing the killing?'

Zalbar's head came up with a snap and Jubal met his stare with a humourless smile.

'That's right, I know the murderer, not that it's been difficult to learn. Tempus has been open enough with his beagging.'

'Actually,' Zalbar mused drily, 'I was wondering why you haven't dealt with him yourself if you know he's guilty. I've heard hawk-masks have killed transgressors when their offence was far less certain.'

Now it was Jubal who averted his eyes in discomfort. 'We've tried,' he admitted, 'Tempus seems exceptionally hard to down. Some of my men went against my orders and used magical weapons. The result was four more bloody masks to his credit.'

The Hell Hound could hear the desperate appeal in the slaver's confession.

'I cannot allow him to continue his sport, but the price of stopping him grows fearfully high. I'm reduced to asking for your intervention. You, more than the others, have prided yourself in performing your duties in strict adherence to the codes of justice. Tell me, doesn't the law apply equally to everyone?'

A dozen excuses and explanations leapt to Zalbar's lips, then a cold wave of anger swept them away. 'You're right, though I never thought you'd be the one to point out my duty to me. A killer in uniform is still a killer and should be punished for his crimes ... all of them. If Tempus is your murderer, I'll personally see to it that he's dealt with.'

'Very well.' Jubal nodded. 'And in return, I'll fill my end of the bargain Kurd will no longer work in Sanctuary.'

Zalbar opened his mouth to protest. The temptation was almost too great - if Jubal could make good his promise - but, no, 'I'd have to insist that your actions remain within the law,' he murmured reluctantly. 'I can't ask you to do anything illegal.'

'Not only is it legal, it's done! Kurd is out of business as of now.'

'What do you mean?'

'Kurd can't work without subjects,' the slaver smiled, 'and I'm his supplier - or I was. Not only have I ended his supply of slaves, I'll spread the word to the other slavers that if they deal with him I'll undercut their prices in the other markets and drive them out of town as well.'

Zalbar smiled with new distaste beneath his mask. 'You knew what he was doing with the slaves and you dealt with him anyway?'

'Killing slaves for knowledge is no worse than having slaves kill each other in the arena for entertainment. Either is an unpleasant reality in our world.'

Zalbar winced at the sarcasm in the slaver's voice, but was unwilling to abandon his position.

'We have different views of fighting. You were forced into the arena as a gladiator while I freely enlisted in the army. Still, we share a common experience: however terrible the battle: however frightful the odds, we had a chance. We could fight back and survive - or at least take our foe-men with us as we fell. Being trussed up like a sacrificial animal, helpless to do anything but watch your enemy - no, not your enemy - your tormentor's weapon descend on you again and again ... No being, slave or freedman, should be forced into that. I cannot think of an enemy I hate enough to condemn to such a fate.'

'I can think of a few,' Jubal murmured, 'but then, I've never . shared your ideals. Though we both believe in justice we seek it in different ways.'

'Justice?' the Hell Hound sneered. 'That's the second time you've used that word tonight. I must admit it sounds strange coming from your lips.'

'Does it?' the slaver asked. 'I've always dealt fairly with my own or with those who do business with me. We both acknowledge the corruption in our world. Hell Hound. The difference is that, unlike yourself, I don't try to protect the world - I'm hard-pressed to protect myself and my own.'

Zalbar set down his unfinished drink. 'I'll leave your mask and cloak outside,' he said levelly, 'I fear that the difference is too great for us to enjoy a drink together.'

Anger flashed in the slaver's eyes. 'But you will investigate the murders?'

'I will,' the Hell Hound promised, 'and as the complaining citizen you'll be informed of the results of my investigation.'

Tempus was working on his sword when Zalbar and Razkuli approached him. They had deliberately waited to confront him here in the barracks rather than at his favoured haunt, the Lily Garden. Despite everything that had or might occur, they were all Army and what was to be said should not be heard by civilians outside their elite club.