Michael Flynn - On the Razor’s Edge

“We really do have a truce, Rinty,” Gwillgi announced from behind Hugh. “So why not be laying your dazer aside.”

When everyone had put weapons away and a degree of calm had been restored, the Hounds sat on one side of the room and the Shadows on the other. Méarana took a third seat between them. She looked first to the one, then to the other. “There’s a moral in this room, I think.” Her voice came out a little shaky, because she had begun to realize how close to death she had danced. But it is better to be close from this side than from the other. She felt almost giddy, all light-headed and her senses heightened. The air seemed fresher and more invigorated; the light and colors, more intense.

The razor’s edge.

“It was closer than you think, sweet,” Ravn whispered to her. “We had no right to come out of it alive, let alone unscathed.”

Gwillgi said to Little Hugh, “Where is Greystroke? And if you tell me he is sitting beside me, I will rip his face off with these very fingernails.”

“Another Hound!” said Domino Tight. “And the two on Tungshen—”

“Hush, my sweet. I snatched a cub from Mother Bear. A moderate response was unlikely.”

Domino pursed his lips. “I am not sure I like this. The Shadow War is one thing; the Long Game, another.”

Méarana said, “And where is Mama Bear? Was this rescue nae important enough for her tae tag along?”

“Of course it was,” Bridget ban said from the doorway, the Queen from the acting troupe. She strode into the room, took in its contents, the body, the amiably gathered Shadows and Hounds, glanced from the hand-spike in the back of Number Two to the weapons belt of Domino Tight, studied the bruises on her daughter’s face. “But there is gae more to a rescue than simply barging in, dazers flashing. We’re deep in the Triangles, girl, and getting out will be as tricky as getting in.” She turned and slapped Ravn Olafsdottr across the face. “I have waited a good long time to do that,” Bridger ban said, bending close to Ravn’s face. Domino Tight stiffened, but Ravn took the blow in silence.

“I did my dooty,” she said a moment later, “though it took some careful choreography to move all the pieces into place.”

“Pieces,” said Little Hugh. “What pieces?”

“Ooh, Donovan, Méarana, Bridget ban, sweet Domino. Gidula.”

Gwillgi snorted. “Seems to me, was Gidula who almost moved you into place.”

A wave of the hand. “Why play game with no hazard?”

“Hazard? Ye could hae lost my daughter!” Bridget ban took Méarana’s hand and turned it over. “Ye’re bleeding.”

“I cut it on a harp string.”

Bridget ban looked about. “There was another. A man.”

The harper flexed her hand, rubbed the back of it across her cheek. “I played a goltraí for him, a lament, and he choked up.”

Ravn tossed her head to indicate the bedroom, and the Red Hound strode into it. She returned a moment later, face as crimson as her hair. “Did he succeed?” she asked her daughter.

“He died unsatisfied.” And then, more slyly than she had intended, Méarana added, “I used one of your auld tricks.”

Bridget ban said nothing for a moment. “We’ll speak of it later. You need to work on your grip so you don’t cut yourself next time.” She turned to the Banty Hound. “Gwillgi! We have been trying to find you.”

The topaz eyes gleamed and the smile showed teeth. “I was not wishful of being found.”

“Oh,” said Méarana. “That’s what Father meant! The cross-grained Hound! He knew Gwillgi was close by.”

“Yes. He and I met in Prizga, during his ‘hajj.’ We—”

Graceful Bintsaif came to the doorway and interrupted. “Cu,” she said. “Greystroke and I have sabotaged the comm. center. No warnings will reach Gidula’s ship before he has departed Terran space. And Grimpen and Obligado have interdicted the port. The remaining vessels now lack a vital part no longer in stores.”

“Very well.”

“Cu—” The junior Hound glanced at Ravn and Domino and lowered her voice. “There are a great many magpies and lesser militia, and I doubt we can keep the lid on this for very long.”

“Tosh. We will be gone before most of them even know we have come. A theatrical troupe, a wandering philosopher … Such folk come and go. And Gwillgi may slip out as silently as he slipped in. My daughter is the problem. She has had too much visibility, and cannot simply leave the stronghold. Who commands here?”

Ravn grinned. “The dead body on the bed.”

“And who is second?”

“The dead body by your foot. And before you ask who is third in line, I could suggest myself. Along with Khembold and Eglay, I was Gidula’s Shadow-associate. As such, I outrank Four, who is the next magpie in line.”

“He took One and Three with him?”

“Well, Three. One is at the bottom of the very cliff over which he threw me. The Old One disposes,” Ravn added, “with that which he needs no more. Our kenning was that he would have Méarana removed once his ship was out of contact and we laid our plans accordingly.”

Bridget ban considered that. “Ye should ne’er hae needed to lay such plans. Ye should nae hae brought her into the Triangles.”

Ravn shrugged. “You would not come to help me rescue Donovan.”

“Donovan!” The Red Hound turned to Méarana. “And where be your father in a’ this?”

The harper turned her chin up. “He went with Gidula to attack the Secret City.”

“And ran out on you again, abandoned you defenseless in the stronghold of our enemy.”

Little Hugh coughed. “Sure, it seems that Méarana has an embarrassment of defenders.”

“Which Donovan could nae hae kenned!”

“Could he not, then?” Little Hugh cocked his head. “He knew Gwillgi was near, and he nodded to me when we passed on the market square.”

“He nodded … Oh, now there’s proof!”

“Mother! An cuid I ken the safest course, so cuid he. He had to take the chance that you were nigh.”

“An cuid he tak a’ the chances he mought— but nae wi’ me bairn’s life! ”

“It was my idea,” Méarana said quietly in Standard Gaelactic, “to come here.”

Ravn clapped her hands together and rubbed them. “Excellent. Now family quibbles wrapped away, we discuss your escape. Consider fortress staff. Many loyal to Gidula; many loyal to Padaborn. Many loyal to Gidula because they think him loyal to Padaborn. Everything so crisscross, is hard to plan double cross. Guess which he leaves mostly behind?”

“Padaborn’s partisans,” said Little Hugh.

“Guess wrong.”

Bridget ban’s eyes widened and she stared at Ravn. “It’s an ambush. He took Padaborn’s partisans because he intends that they die in the Secret City.”

“Yayss. He needs rebels to perform triage on the Names; but once he need them no longer, he dispose of them, too. So, attend me. This is our play. Night is fully fallen, no? And your sabotage of the comm. center will not look like sabotage?”

Graceful Bintsaif snorted. “Dead rats lie where they gnawed through the circuits. And no one will know the fliers are inoperable until someone actually tries to start one up.”

“Not for several days, then, for Gidula ordered the stronghold buttoned up. Good. No one saw you enter; let no one see you leave. ‘Philosopher,’ you will present your scheduled lecture. In half a Terran hour, yes? The ‘theatrical troupe’ will retire for the night and leave in the morning as planned.”

“And the two dead bodies?” asked Bridget ban.

“Even those magpies loyal to Gidula do not know the depth of his betrayals. I will call them together and tell them that Khembold Darling, ruled by his lust, had tried to violate Méarana Swiftfingers, despite her status as my vassal and despite Gidula’s assurance of her safety. Magpie Two Gidula, discovering his plans, tried heroically to stop him, but he stabbed her treacherously in the back, and it was only then that I happened on the scene and slew the traitor.” Ravn took in her listeners and smiled. “Those privy to Gidula’s thoughts may think this be Denmark and smell something rotten in it, but all others applaud how clayver I lie.”