The Book of Athyra (59 page)

“So you and Loftis show up in Northport, just the two of you, with three others in reserve. Is that right?”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. Loftis told me there were six of you and three in reserve, and I think he was telling me a half-truth by including Domm and his people, just to test me.”

“Yes,” she said. “It was he and I, with some others on call if we needed them.”

“Okay,” I said. “Anyway, Domm is already here with Daythiefnest and three others, and they’ve bungled things up nicely. You and Loftis know the score, and Domm knows what’s going on, but no one else does. You and Loftis have probably done a lot of things you didn’t enjoy, but this has to be one of the worst—when Loftis and I were pumping each other for information, I got that out of him and I think he meant it. Your job was to cover up a murder, and, at the same time, cover up for the fact that the guy whose job it was to do the cover-up—Domm—had bungled it horribly by being impatient. That meant tracing every little indication that people thought the investigation wasn’t real, while, at the same time, keeping up the appearances of making the investigation, and still coming up with enough to convince, among others, the Empress, the Warlord, and your own chief that, no, really, Fyres’s death was an accident. Have I got that right?”

“Go on,” she said.

I wetted my throat again. “Just about this time, Loftis learns that Fyres’s home has been burglarized and his private notes taken. I’m sure he had words about that. Why didn’t Domm take those notes in the first place? And why wasn’t the house better protected against burglary? Answer: because Domm didn’t care. Maybe—I’m speculating again—maybe it was then that Loftis realized he only had one way to go: he had to throw Domm to the dzur. That is, he was going to have to make it look like Domm was just plain incompetent—which he is—and then do the investigation himself and come up, with a greater appearance of honesty, with the same results Domm got.

“The trouble was, Domm, whatever else he is, isn’t stupid. He figured that out, too.”

Timmer’s eyes got wide.

“You mean
Domm
—”

“Wait for it, Ensign. I’m not going anywhere, and neither is Domm.”

Her eyes narrowed then, but she said, “All right.” Then she said, “About Fyres’s death—”

“Yes?”

“How was it arranged?”

“It was a Jhereg assassination.”

“I know that. But how?”

“Huh? You should know that. Making it look like an accident—”

“No, not that. I mean, how could a Jhereg assassin get close to Fyres on his private boat, especially when he knew—when he must have known—that he was messing with dangerous matters and dangerous people?”

“Ah,” I said. “I’m glad you asked. Stony set it up, and he had Shortisle’s cooperation. Between the two of them, they were able to get inside help. Again, I’m guessing, but it does all fit.”

“Inside help?”

“Yep. Someone Fyres trusted, or, at any rate, was willing to let onto the boat, along with a friend. Who was on the boat, Ensign? That’s something you know but I don’t. I think I can guess, though.”

“Go ahead,” she said. “Guess.”

“I’d say that at least one of his daughters was there, and had a date with her. In particular, I think it has to be Reega, judging by the way she reacted when I suggested to her that the investigation wasn’t entirely honest.”

I waited.

“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “Reega. We know she brought a date, and the guy she was with . . . yes, he could have been a Jhereg. We can still find him—”

“Three pennies that you can’t.”

She shrugged. “All right, then: why would she go along with that?”

“Remember the land swindle I mentioned?”

“Yes.”

“That was the price. Shortisle put her in touch with Vonnith and some others, or maybe they all knew each other, anyway; they probably did. They cooked it up among themselves, with Shortisle’s help, in exchange for Papa’s life. That way, however things went, they each knew they’d still have enough wealth for what they wanted: Vonnith to keep her lovely house and Reega to be able to live alone and do nothing, which seems to be her goal. Of course, it could have been the wife, the son, or the other daughter; as far as I can tell they all had reasons.”

“Nice family.”

“Yeah.”

“All right. Go on.”

I nodded. “Then my friend and I enter the arena. First, there’s the burglary.”

“Yes. Loftis was, uh, not happy about that.”

“Right. Okay, but Loftis finds himself having to work with the Jhereg, right? So he tells Stony about it, and then my friend—”

“Who?”

I shook my head. “You don’t get that.”

She started to object, then shrugged. “All right.”

“My friend starts asking Stony questions, which information he passes on to Loftis, and then I show up, and Loftis passes that information to Stony, and then I go leading you and Domm all around the countryside, and, at about the point my feet are getting ready to fall off, we wind up at the Riversend, and Loftis gets hold of you or Domm, probably you—”

“Me.”

“With orders to question me.”

“No, with orders to bring you in.”

“But—”

“Domm wanted to question you first. I objected, but he outranked me.” Her face twitched and contorted just a bit as she said that.

“I see.” I nodded. “He was nervous about what Loftis intended, and wanted to know where I fit in, and if I could be used.”

“Yes. What was your game?”

“Trying to learn what was going on. Remember, all I really knew about was that our hostess was having problems with her land; I didn’t even know that the investigation into Fyres’s death was phony.”

“And that’s what you were trying to find out?”

“Yes. And I did, both from Domm’s reaction and from yours, although I misread a look you gave him as indicating that you didn’t know what was going on, when in fact the look was just one of contempt for him being such an idiot as to let me pump him like that. That was the last thing I got, and what made me decide to come to you now.”

She nodded. “Then what?”

“Then we come back to Reega. If it
was
her who set up Fyres, and, from what you say, I’m sure it was, then it fits even better. When I showed up at her door, she panicked. She thought it was all going to come out, and someone—namely Loftis—would
really
investigate dear Papa’s death, and she’d get caught. So she—”

“Arranged with Domm to kill Loftis,” said Timmer, very slowly and distinctly.

I nodded. “That’s how I read it.”

“So why did you kill Stony and all those others?”

I smiled. “Well, actually, I didn’t.”

She frowned.

I shook my head. “I did kill Stony, but I put no spell on him to prevent revivification. I had no reason to, and, even when I did that sort of thing, I didn’t use spells because I’m not fast enough with them. And I certainly had no time then.”

“But who—”

“Think it through,” I said. “Domm has killed Loftis. Stony and Loftis know each other, and Stony is in touch with powerful people in the Empire.”

“Does Domm know that?”

“He has to at least be pretty sure about it. So Domm uses me to set up Stony, knowing that, eventually, I’ll be sure to go blundering into Vonnith’s place, or Endra’s, or Reega’s.”

“Wait. He used
you
to set up
Stony
?”

“Yeah. That’s how I read it. He probably thought I’d be killed, too, which would have been fine, but he had some of his people there to make sure Stony didn’t get out alive in any case.”

“Did you spot them?”

“No. But I got away.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I shouldn’t have been able to escape. My familiar here”—I gestured to Loiosh—“was injured, and that slowed me down. And, for various reasons, I can’t teleport. And the Jhereg wants me
bad.
So how could I go tromping away from there through the woods and escape without even having to draw my blade? Answer: because Domm arranged for a teleport block around the house and grounds to seal Stony and his people in, then—”

“Did you feel a teleport block?”

“No, but I wouldn’t, for the same reason that I don’t teleport myself.” She looked a question at me. I said, “I, uh, I have a device that prevents anyone from finding me with sorcery, and it has the side effect of preventing me from detecting it. Loiosh here usually lets me know if there’s sorcery happening around me, but, as I said, he wasn’t in any shape to do that then.”

“Sorry about that, boss.”

“Don’t sweat it, chum.”

“When did you work all this out?”

“Just a little while ago, when my friend informed me that Stony was unrevivifiable and that there’d been a mass slaughter in the house. My
first thought was that it was being done so I’d be blamed, but that didn’t make sense. The Jhereg were after me already, and they, frankly, have better resources for that sort of thing than the Empire, so what was the point? The point, of course, was Domm.”

“Yes.”

“And now, Ensign, can you figure out why it was not only Stony whose death was made permanent but also three of those Orca who are Vonnith’s private guards?”

She nodded. “Three of the four who killed Loftis.” She frowned. “What about the fourth?”

“I would imagine,” I said, “that he died of the wounds I gave him, and was given to Deathgate Falls. And, as far as I’m concerned, you now know everything.”

She nodded slowly. Then she said, “Why did you tell me all of this?”

I shrugged. “A number of reasons. For one thing, I rather liked Loftis.” She frowned, but didn’t speak. “For another, it annoys me to see these people tromping over lives like that—Loftis, Stony, all of those people whose lives have been messed up by the shipwrights closing and by the banks closing. And, for another, I want something in exchange.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I believe that, Jhereg. What do you want?”

I said, “There are not witnesses who can implicate Domm, you know.”

“Except Vonnith.”

“Yes. Except Vonnith and Reega. Will you be going after Vonnith?”

“Maybe. I don’t know if I can touch her. I’ll have to check with—” She got a look of distaste on her features. “With Shortisle and Indus.”

“Reega?”

“Not a chance. She gets away with it.”

“I thought so. Well, that’s fine. I don’t care. Everyone involved in killing Fyres deserves an Imperial Title, as far as I’m concerned. But I do care about Vonnith.”

“As I say, I don’t know if I can—”

I held up my hand. “You can put pressure on her, and a little pressure is all it should take.”

“For what?”

“To get her to cough up the deed to a small piece of property on the north side of town. A very small piece, a couple of acres, with a hideously ugly blue cottage on it. There’s an old woman living there. I can’t pronounce her name, but here it is.” I passed it to her and enjoyed watching her lips move as she tried to figure out how to say it.

Then she said, “That’s all you want?”

“What do
you
want, Ensign?”

She glared at me. “I want . . .” She stopped glaring, but continued staring, if you know what I mean.

“What do you want?” I repeated. “What would please you right now?”

“I . . .”

“Yes?” I said.

“Are you—?”

I looked away and waited.

Presently she said, “You used to be in the Jhereg?”

“Yes,” I said.

“And what, exactly, did you do?”

I turned back to her. “You know what I did.”

She nodded slowly. “The deed to the land for the old woman—that’s what you’re getting out of this?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“What about Fyres’s personal notes?”

I extracted them from inside my cloak and put them on the table. She looked at them, riffled through them, nodded, and put them in her pouch.

She said, “Are you, uh, going to be somewhere for a while?”

I remembered the area and said, “This is as good a place as any, I think.”

“Yes,” she said. “I suppose it is.”

She looked at me for a long time, and then she picked up her dagger and sheathed it. She reached for the wine, poured herself a glass, held it up to me, and drank. She held out her hand to Loiosh. He hesitated a moment, then hopped over to her wrist. She studied him for a moment, looking closely into his eyes and showing no sign of fear at all.

“I’ve never been this close to one of these before. It looks very intelligent.”

“More intelligent than me sometimes,” I said.
“That’s just banter, Loiosh. Forget I said it.”

“No chance, boss. You’re stuck with that forever.”

She held her hand out and Loiosh hopped back over to my shoulder. She took out a handkerchief and wiped her wrist, then folded the handkerchief and put it away.

Then she looked at me and nodded.

“You got it, Easterner,” she said.

A
ND THEN
, K
IERA
, I waited. And, as I waited, I was just a bit nervous.

I mean, you speak Jhereg—You know what we were talking about, or, rather,
not
talking about; and of course I knew, but I wasn’t sure if Timmer knew. I thought she did, I hoped she did, but I didn’t know, and so I sat there and waited and was nervous, in spite of Loiosh’s comments designed to irritate me into relaxing.

No, don’t ask me to explain that.

By this time I had blended into the background of the public house, and no one was really looking at me, so at least I didn’t have that to worry about. In fact, Kiera, while I was nervous about Timmer, I wasn’t really
worried
about anything; it seemed that the time for worrying was well past; besides, I had plans to make, and the time to worry is when you don’t have anything else to do. I’m not sure who said that; I think it was you.

An hour later she came back and sat down. She looked at me. There was no expression on her face.

I said, “Well?”

She said, “I’ve asked the local magistrate for a seizure card. Just temporary, of course; until the investigation is over.”