Iorich (4 page)

“It’s good to see you again, Vlad.” He poured himself something purplish-red from a cut-glass decanter. I still had my wine. “How have you been?”

“Same as always. Still kicking, still running.”

“Sounds unpleasant.”

“You get used to it.”

“Any stories worth telling?”

I shook my head. “Tell me about Aliera.” That’s me: straight to business.

“Right,” he said. He frowned into his wine. “I don’t know exactly. She was engaged in some experiments, and the Phoenix Guard appeared, asking to see her. I showed them down to—”

“Wait. This was here?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“They arrested her here?”

He nodded. “She lives here, you know.”

“Uh, okay, go on.”

“That’s about all I know. They came in, got her, took her away.”

“You let them?”

He cocked his head at me. “You expected me to launch a rebellion against the Empire?”

I considered that. “Yes,” I said.

“I chose not to.”

I dropped it. “What have you learned since?”

“Very little. I couldn’t find out anything. They wouldn’t let me in to see her.”

“You need to go to the Iorich Wing and declare yourself a friend, then you can get some information, and if she approves it, you can get more, and you’ll be permitted to see her.”

“All right, I’ll do that.”

“Any idea why she refused an advocate?”

“None.”

“Well, you’re pretty damned helpful.”

He smirked. “It’s good to see you again, Vlad.”

“Mind if I ask what you
have
done?”

“I’ve spoken with Norathar and Sethra.”

“Oh,” I said. Yes, the Dragon Heir and the Enchantress of Dzur Mountain would be good people to start with. “Uh, have they been keeping you informed?”

“As much as you’d expect.”

“So: no.”

“Right.”

“She was arrested, ah, what was it? About two weeks ago?”

“A little more.”

I nodded. “Okay, we need to find her an advocate.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff, Vlad?”

I looked at him.

“Oh,” he said. “All right, but didn’t she refuse an advocate?”

“There may be a way to get one in to try to talk some sense into her.”

“How?”

“I’ve no idea. But advocates are clever bastards. I’d have been Starred otherwise.”

“Money isn’t a problem,” he said.

“No,” I agreed. “It isn’t.”

He nodded. “Are you hungry?”

I realized I was, and said so.

“Let’s go to the pantries and see what we can find.”

We found some sausages in the style of some Eastern kingdom: oily and biting, tasting of rosemary. With it was crusty bread in long, thin loaves and a wonderfully sharp cheese. There was also a jug of red wine that was probably too young but still had some body. We ate standing up in Morrolan’s pantry, passing the jug back and forth.

“Vlad, do you know what happens if she’s convicted?”

“My understanding—which isn’t perfect—is that either they execute her, or the Empress has to commute the sentence, which will raise havoc among the Houses.”

Morrolan nodded.

We walked back to the library, brushing crumbs off ourselves. “What are you going to do?” he asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But it will probably involve killing someone.”

He chuckled. “It usually does.”

“Would Sethra know anything about this by now?”

“Only if she’s seen Aliera. I doubt she has.”

“Maybe I should go and see her.”

“Maybe.”

“Or else go straight to finding the advocate.”

He nodded and glanced at my hip. “How is Lady Teldra?”

I resisted the impulse to touch her. “I’m not sure how to answer that,” I said.

“Has there been . . . contact?”

I considered. “Not as such. Feelings, sometimes, perhaps.”

He nodded.

I said, “I know you two go back hundreds of years. I wish—”

“So do I.”

“She was more than just seneschal to you, wasn’t she?”

His jaw tightened a little. “I’m not sure how you mean that.”

“Sorry. None of my—”

“Once she stood guard over my body for nearly a week, keeping it alive, while my mind and my soul traveled to Deathgate Falls and fought a battle over the Paths of the Dead. Keeping it alive was neither easy nor pleasant, under the circumstances.”

“Um. Sounds like there’s a story there.”

He shrugged. “Ask the Empress; I’ve already said too much.”

“I won’t press it, then.”

“Where are you going next?”

“I guess I’d better try to find Aliera an advocate, unless you want to.”

“I’m willing, if you’ll tell me how.”

“I know what to look for, more or less. It’s easier if I just do it.”

“Unless,” he pointed out, “you get killed trying.”

“Yeah, that would slow it down. But if I stay in the Imperial Palace, I should be safe. And if I stay close to it, I’ll stay close to safe.”

“You know best.”

I wanted to note the time and date he’d said that. “They already know I’m in town, because I took the amulet off to get here. So they’ll know I’m in the Palace.” I shrugged. “Let them gnash their teeth. I know how to slip away when I need to.”

“Boss, you lie like an Issola.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“All right,” said Morrolan. “I don’t know the Iorich Wing. Where should I set you down?”

“Anywhere in the Palace they permit it that isn’t the Dragon Wing or Jhereg Wing.”

He nodded. “Ready?”

I removed the amulet, put it in its pouch, sealed the pouch, and nodded.

He gestured, and time passed during which I was nowhere, then I was somewhere else. I took the amulet out again, put it on, and looked around. Imperial Wing; good enough.

It took me a good hour to find my way out of the Palace, mostly because I wanted to leave through the Iorich Wing, so I could cross to the House of the Iorich as quickly as possible. Yes, there’s a constant strain in knowing you’re being hunted, but even that is something you can get used to. You take sensible precautions, and minimize risk, and don’t let it get to you.

At least, that’s the theory.

The House of the Iorich (as opposed to the Iorich Wing of the Palace—just so you don’t get confused. I wouldn’t want you to get confused) was distinguished by a high door with a gilt arch, over which stood the representation of the House; this one, unlike the one in the Wing of the Palace, looking forward. The door was open. The two guards, in the colors of
the Iorich, glanced at me but let me walk past without saying anything.

An elderly Dragaeran in a simple gown of brown and white approached me, gave her name (which I don’t remember), and asked how she could serve me. I told her I was in need of an advocate, and she said, speaking in very low tones even though no one else was around, that if I cared to tell her the general nature of the problem, she could perhaps recommend someone.

“Thank you,” I said. “That isn’t necessary, if you’d be so good as to tell me if Lady Ardwena is available.”

Her face closed up like the shutters of a house in the East, and she said, “Of course. Please come with me, and I’ll show you to a waiting room.”

I did and she did, with no further words being exchanged. I guess she knew what sort of clients Lady Ardwena took, and she didn’t approve. A blight on the House, I’ve no doubt.

The room was small and empty; it felt comfortable, though, lit with a pair of ornate oil lamps. While we waited, I exchanged remarks about the decor with Loiosh, who didn’t have much to say about it.

After about five minutes, she came in herself, stopping at the door, looking at me, then stepping in and closing it. I stood up and gave her a slight bow. “Lady Ardwena. It has been a few years.”

“I can do nothing for you,” she said. There was a lot of tension in her voice. I couldn’t blame her, but neither was I overwhelmed with sympathy.

“Just need some questions answered.”

“I shouldn’t even do that.”

She wouldn’t have put it that way if she’d intended not
to; she wouldn’t even have seen me. I said, “It isn’t even about me. My problems aren’t legal.”

“No,” she said. “They aren’t. Who is it about?”

“Aliera e’Kieron.”

Her eyes widened a little. “You know her?”

Heh. And here I’d thought everyone knew that. “Yes. She needs an advocate. I need you to recommend one.”

“I’ve heard she’s refused advice.”

“Yes, that makes it harder.”

She nodded and fell silent for a bit. “I’ve heard of the matter, of course. Part thirty paragraphs one, two, and five, isn’t it?”

“Just one and two.”

She nodded. “They’re moving on it quickly.”

“Which means?”

“Which means that they don’t like their case, or else they need it prosecuted for political reasons, and the issue isn’t the issue, as it were.”

“That’s good to know.”

She chewed on her lower lip and sat down. I sat down too and waited while she thought.

“You’ll need someone who can handle a recalcitrant client, and someone who’s done a lot of work with Folio ninety-one. Imperial Edicts are different from both Codified Traditions and Statutes. They’re a bit like Ordinances except with the full force of the Imperium behind them, which makes them a bit of a niche. And then there’s the fact that the Empire is moving so quickly. . . all right.” She pulled out a stub of pencil and a tiny square of paper. “See him. If he won’t do it, maybe he’ll be able to recommend someone.”

“Thanks,” I said.

She stood up, nodded to me, and glided out. With the amount of money I’d given her over the years, I figured she owed me at least this much. She probably didn’t agree, but was afraid that I was in a position to make life difficult for her if she didn’t help me. And I was.

By “The State” we mean that body that holds the monopoly on the use of violence within a geographic region and has the power and authority to determine how much and in what manner and under what circumstances this monopoly will be delegated, authorized, or commissioned to other bodies or individuals. This power is expressed and interpreted through the body’s various legal systems, coded or uncoded.

By this definition, (cf. Lanya), it is clear that to accept the existence of a State is to accept the monopoly on violence, and so too in reverse. The question, therefore, of the legitimacy of any act of violence by the State, whether deliberate or accidental, must first of all be determined according to:

 

1. The legitimacy of the State.

2. The legitimacy of the interests of the State in which the violence occurred.

3. The appropriateness or lack thereof of the particular acts of violence in serving those interests.

 

It is for this reason that, for example, any violence committed by a rebellious vassal is inherently illegitimate; any act of violence by agents of the State that are committed for personal motivations are considered criminal misappropriation of authority; and any act of violence that, in intent, fails to advance the cause of the State is considered negligent.

The committee began its investigation into the events in Tirma on this basis.

The name on the paper was Perisil. I’d never heard of him, but then, the only Iorich I’d ever heard of were those who were willing to take Jhereg as clients—a relatively low number.