Iorich (12 page)

I got to be nervous for about twenty minutes before the sorceress showed up. No assassins came with her. Score one for me. She had the dark complexion of the Athyra but her hair was such a light brown it was almost blond, producing a slightly startling effect. There was a vague look in her eyes that was common if not universal among Athyra.

She gave the place a half-interested and disdainful look, then nodded at me. “Lord Taltos?” she said.

I nodded.

“Dzur Mountain,” she said. “Untraceable, with a brief lingering cloud.”

I nodded again.

She looked like she might be considering offering me advice on going there, but she must have decided not to, and just said, “Are you ready?”

I pulled the amulet from around my neck and put it away, thus, no doubt, alerting a dozen or so Jhereg sorcerers. “Ready,” I said.

She didn’t even gesture, as far as I could see; for an instant the room seemed about to spin, but then it went through a familiar slow fade, going through all the colors from white to almost-white; interminable seconds went by when I was in two places at once, and I could feel myself pushing air out of the
way. In that time, it suddenly hit me that she might have been bribed, and be delivering me to an assassin. In that empty, lingering time-space, I became so convinced of it that I was already reaching for a dagger when the world settled down to a familiar place on the lower slopes of Dzur Mountain.

My first reaction was relief, my second was annoyance. Yeah, this place was familiar—I knew how to reach Sethra’s home from this spot: it involved climbing more stairs than ought to exist in the world. I wondered if the sorceress had brought me to this entrance deliberately. I still wonder.

I replaced the amulet then entered through a wooden door that wasn’t nearly as flimsy as it appeared. You don’t clap when entering Dzur Mountain—depending on which door you use, at any rate. I’ve wondered about that, and I think it’s because in some way the mountain itself isn’t her home, only the parts of it that she claimed as her residence; and so I passed through the first door into the mountain, and started climbing stairs. It seemed much louder this time, my feet on the stone stairway made echoes and echoes of echoes; my memory was doing the same thing.

You don’t need to hear about it; it was a long, long way up. Partway up, I passed the place where Morrolan and I had almost slaughtered each other; it bothered me a little that I couldn’t identify the exact spot.

Eventually I reached the top, clapped, and opened the door without waiting for a reply. Her residence doesn’t seem all that big once you’re aware of the size of the mountain; but then there’s probably a lot I haven’t seen. And, at her age, I imagine she needs lots of space to store stuff she’s accumulated.

I wandered a bit, hoping to run into her, or her servant, or someone. The halls—dark stone here, pale wood there—all
echoed strangely and gave me the sudden feeling that Dzur Mountain was deserted. It wasn’t, actually—I came across her in one of the smaller sitting rooms that she put here and there. She was drinking a glass of wine and reading a thick, heavy book with a cover I couldn’t see. She wore a black garment that seemed to wrap around her, pinned with a gold or copper bracelet at the left arm, and looping through a jeweled necklace high on her chest, with another loop on her right hip with similar jewels. She said, “Hello, Vlad,” without looking up. I took that as a cue to stand there like an idiot, so I did, and presently she marked the book with something that looked like it had silver tracings on it and gave me a nod. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“It takes a while for word to reach the outlands. That’s a nice dress you’re wearing. Are those sapphires on the necklace?”

“A gift from the Necromancer. Have a seat. Tukko will bring you wine.”

I sat in a chair that faced her at a slight angle. “And I will drink it. Good. We have a plan.”

A courtesy smile came and went.

Tukko showed up with wine and a scowl. The wine was less offensive; a strongly flavored red that should have had some heavily spiced meat to go with it, but I didn’t complain. I sipped, nodded, and said, “So, what can you tell me?”

“I was going to ask you that.”

“Heh. I just came in from out of town.”

“Yes, and found an advocate, got Aliera to accept him—which ought to rate you as a master sorcerer—and you’ve been snooping around the Imperial Palace since then. So—what can you tell me?” She smiled sweetly.

I stared at her, remembering things about her I sometimes forget. Then I said, “If you were trying to impress me, it worked.”

“Permit me my small pleasures.”

“I’d never think of denying them to you,” I said. “All right. In brief, the Empress seems to be prosecuting Aliera to distract attention from some massacre in some little town no one cares about. The mystery is that she picked Aliera, who I’ve always figured was a close friend. The charge, as far as I can tell, is nonsense.”

She nodded slowly. “It isn’t as if the Empress hasn’t known about Aliera’s studies for years.”

“Right.”

“When you spoke to Her Majesty, what was the Orb doing?”

“Eh? Floating over her head.”

“I mean, what color was it?”

“Green at first. Orange when I annoyed her. It turned blue around the end of the conversation. She said she had to go do something.”

“What shade of blue?”

“Um, shade?”

“Did it seem cold, icy?”

“Sorry, I don’t have that good a memory for colors.”

“All right,” she said.

“Can you explain—?”

“Not really. Just trying to learn everything I can. I wish I’d been there.”

“Yes. That brings up another interesting point.” I cleared my throat. “Why weren’t you?”

“Beg pardon?”

“That’s what I really wanted to ask you. Why is this my job?”

She frowned. “No one is forcing you—”

“That’s not my point. Aliera has friends coming out her—Aliera has a lot of friends. Most of them are more influential than an ex-Jhereg Easterner on the run. What’s going on here?”

She looked away from me. When everything in Sethra’s home is very quiet, there is a soft, continuous sound, as of air slowly moving down a tunnel. It seemed to me I’d noticed it or almost noticed it before.

Finally she said, “You’ve spent a day or two with the Justicers now. What do you think?”

That didn’t seem to have anything to do with my question, but I’ve known Sethra long enough to know that not every change of subject is a change of subject.

“They’re pretty obsessive,” I said.

“About what?”

“About the law, and its quirky little ins and outs.”

“And what do you think about the law?”

“Most of my thoughts about the law involve ways to circumvent it,” I said.

She smiled. “I always knew you had the makings of an Emperor.”

“Eh?”

She waved it aside. “What are all those laws for?”

“Oh, come on, Sethra. I know better than to try to answer a question like that, from you of all people.”

“Fair point.” She frowned and fell into thought for a moment. Then she said, “Some people think the law is about protection—you have the Imperial Guard and the local constabulary to make sure the innocents are protected. Others think it is about justice—making sure no one can do anything
bad without getting what he deserves. Still others see it as revenge: giving peace to the victim by hurting the perpetrator.”

She stopped. I waited.

“The House of the Iorich is near the bottom of the Cycle right now,” she said.

I nodded. I always forgot about that stuff. Well, I mean, obviously since I’m unlikely to live long enough to see the Cycle move even once, whereas a Dragaeran might live to see it shift two or three times. And then there’s Sethra; we won’t talk about her.

“Okay, I trust that ties into this somehow?”

She nodded. “The Iorich is the House of justice.”

“Yes, I know. The courts, the advocates, the law-scribes, all of that.”

She shook her head. “That isn’t justice; that’s the law.”

“If you’re telling me that the law has nothing to do with justice, you aren’t giving me any new information.”

“What I’m telling you is that sometimes it does.”

“Um. That would be when the Iorich are near the top of the Cycle?”

She nodded.

“Okay. And what happens the rest of the time?”

“What passes for justice is the result of machinations among the nobles.”

“That sounded like it should have made sense.”

She chuckled and Tukko appeared with a small glass of something clear. She threw it down like a soldier and nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“Maybe you could—”

“The Empire perpetuates itself. It protects the nobles who
support it, and the machinery of state it needs to keep itself going. Anyone who threatens those things gets ground up.”

“Except during an Iorich reign?”

She nodded.

“The Iorich reign must be an interesting time.”

“Follows the Jhereg, you know.”

“Oh, right. So they have plenty to keep themselves busy.”

She nodded.

“So then,” I said. “What did Aliera do that threatened the Empire?”

“Nothing,” she said.

“Nothing?”

“Wrong place at the wrong time, if you want to call it that. Or, she was convenient. Or something.”

“Sethra, are you drunk?”

“A little.”

Okay. Well. This was a new one for me. I wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with it. The most powerful sorceress in the world: sloshed. Aren’t there laws against that sort of thing?

“Sethra, are you saying that to defend Aliera is to attack the Empire?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

Maybe I should get drunk, too.

“And that’s why none of Aliera’s friends will step in?”

“She’s pretty much forbidden it.”

“Morrolan must be about ready to burst.”

“He’s not doing well.”

I nodded. “So that’s where I come in. But, okay, I still don’t see why the Empress chose Aliera to do this to.”

“Who would you suggest?”

“Sethra, there must be hundreds, thousands of people who
are violating some law that can be used to distract attention from whatever the Empress wants people not to notice.”

“Not really,” she said. She drew her finger through a spot in the air in front of her, and a small slash of white light remained. “Aliera is widely known, even among the Teckla, as witness the fact that you heard about it from wherever you were.” She made another slash next to the first. “She is widely known to be a friend of the Empress.” She made a third slash—I need to learn how to do that. “It’s common knowledge that the Empire turns a blind eye to her activities. Who else can all that be said of?”

I felt myself scowling. “Yeah, all right. So it’s on me. How do I do it?”

“I understand the advocate you found is very good. Rely on him.”

“He is?”

“Within his specialty.”

“That’s good to know. He’s got me—you know what he’s got me doing.”

“Yes. It seems wise.”

“I’m going to have to speak to Norathar.”

“Oh,” she said. Then, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“All right,” she said after a moment. “I’ll arrange it.”

“Thank you.”

I drank some more wine without tasting it. We sat there until the comfortable silence became uncomfortable. Then I said, “Sethra, who else are you?”

“Hmmm?”

“I mean, you must have other, ah, identities, besides—”

“Oh. No one you’ve ever met. Or heard of, I imagine.”

“It must be difficult.”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s the only fun I ever have.”

I nodded. I wanted to ask her about some of the other people she was, but it was pretty obvious she didn’t want to talk about it, so I finished my wine and fell silent.

A little later she said, “Norathar has agreed to see you.”

“When?”

“Now, if it’s convenient.”

“Convenient,” I said. “Heh. All right. Later, I’d like. . .”

She frowned. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m going to see Norathar. After that, I think I’d like some food.”

She looked away. “Valabar’s is watched constantly.”

“So I’d assumed. I was thinking about somewhere safer. Like, say, the Punctured Lung.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know it,” she said.

“Sorry, Jhereg slang. The Punctured Jug.”

“Ah. Yes, by Clover Ring.”

“It’s Jhereg owned, so it’s safe. Niscan used to eat there when half the city was walking around with embalming oil for him.”

She nodded. “As long as it’s safe. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”