The Paths of the Dead (Viscount of Adrilankha) (22 page)

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Authors: Steven Brust

BOOK: The Paths of the Dead (Viscount of Adrilankha)
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“Exactly,” said the Enchantress. “Zerika, of the House of the Phoenix, will be the next Empress.”
“That is all very well,” said Sethra the Younger, “but—”
“Yes?”
“Who will be Warlord?”
“Oh, as to that, the Empress will decide.”
“Will she? Then I, for one, am more ready than ever to aid her in any way I can.”
“And your help will be appreciated, I assure you,” said Sethra Lavode.
“And mine?” said Tazendra.
“Certainly.”
“And I hope I can be useful,” said Kytraan.
“I have not the least doubt that you will be.”
“And I?” said Piro.
“Ah, you,” said the Enchantress. “Yes, indeed, I think you will be very helpful indeed.”
“Well, that is good then.”
“Blood of the Horse!” cried Tazendra suddenly.
“What is it?” said the others.
“Well, I have just realized something.”
“And what have you realized?” asked the Enchantress.
“I have just realized that we now have not only an intention, but we very nearly have a plan.”
“That’s lucky,” said Sethra Lavode.
 
 
How Wadre’s Band Met the
Mysterious Orlaan, and the Results
Of Their Conversation
 
 
 
A
t around the same time as Piro was getting his first look at Sethra Lavode, Wadre and his band of brigands were getting their first look at someone with whom we have already a passing acquaintance, for it was none other than the woman, Orlaan, whom Piro, Kytraan, and Lar had met in the woods, and with whom they had had a brief conversation.
It was not, in fact, far from that place, that is, within sight of Dzur Mountain, that Wadre and his band observed the sorceress seated before a small fire. Wadre, on his part, studied her for a moment, then, satisfied, signaled his band forward. Very quickly they had surrounded her, while she sat upon the ground and looked around at them with no trace of fear upon her countenance, but, rather, only what appeared to be mild curiosity.
“I gave you good day, madam,” said the bandit. “I am called Wadre.”
The woman rose then, and said, “I am Orlaan, and I welcome you to my home.”
“Your home?” said Wadre.
“Exactly.”
“You live here?”
“I live here.”
“Here? In this clearing, where there is no roof, nor even walls?”
“Exactly.”
“But, if I may say so, this is hardly a safe place to live, madam.”
“Well, but where is a safe place to live in such times as these?”
“What you point out is valid.”
“It is kind of you to acknowledge it.”
“It is nothing. But still—”
“Yes?”
“It would be good to have shelter, and maybe even concealment.”
“Concealment? But, from what might I need concealment?”
“From what? You don’t know that there are brigands in these woods?”
“The trey! Are there?”
“I give you my word on it.”
“And have you met some?”
“I have.”
“And are they frightening?”
Wadre considered. “Well, I shouldn’t like to meet a whole band of them when I was alone.”
“Pah. What could they do to me?”
“What could they do? Well, they could rob you!”
“Of what?”
“Of what?”
“Yes, of what could they rob me?”
“Well, of money, for example.”
“I have none.”
“You have no money?”
“Not so much as a silver orb.”
“Then, perhaps, you could be robbed of food?”
“I have none of that, either.”
“What do you say? You have no food?”
“None.”
“But, if you will permit a question—”
“Oh, ask, by all means.”
“Well, how do you live, if you have neither food nor money.”
“I use my art to attract game, much as the athyra does in the wild.”
“The trey!”
“It is as I have said. And so—”
“Yes, and so?”
“Well, I have nothing in which a brigand could be interested.”
“Oh, as to that, well, I do not deny it. But I must say you interest me.”
“I interest you?”
“That is to say, you intrigue me.”
“Well, what is intriguing?”
“When you speak of your art, what do you mean?”
“Ah, that. Well, I speak of sorcery.”
“Sorcery!”
“Yes, sorcery.”
“But there has been no sorcery since the fall of the Empire!”
“Well, that has been true until now.”
“Until now?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Now, today, this very hour?”
“No, to be more precise, some hundred and fifty years ago.”
“But what happened a hundred and fifty years ago?”
“I lit a fire.”
“Well, but, you perceive, I light fires every day.”
“Oh, I do not doubt that. But do you light fires using the magical arts? That is, using sorcery?”
“Why, no I do not. And you did?”
“Oh, you perceive, it was only a small fire.”
“And then you began to bring animals to you?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“And it has been working?”
Orlaan gestured toward the fire, where a norska was slow-cooking over a spit.
“Ah,” said Wadre. “You do, in fact, have food.”
“Enough for a meal, yes.”
Wadre considered all that he had heard, and finally said, “But one thing still puzzles me.”
“Well, tell me what it is, and perhaps I will be able to give you such an answer that you will understand.”
“Before you succeeded in gaining those magical power of which you speak—”
“Yes, before that?”
“How did you live?”
“Oh, I have a small cache of gold.”
“Gold? But you said you had none!”
“I was not, perhaps, entirely truthful.”
“I see that you were not.”
“Well, but what would you expect me to say when surrounded by brigands about to rob me?”
“I do not deny the extreme justice in what you say, only—”
“Yes?”
“Are you not afraid that we will now rob you?”
Orlaan walked over and carefully removed the norska from over the fire. Holding the spit with her left hand, she made a careless gesture with her right, and, in an instant, the flames leapt up thirty or thirty-five feet. Wadre and the others in his band recoiled. The very top of the flame seemed at first to dance and sway and even lean over, as if to touch first one of the brigands, and then another, all in response to the pointing of the forefinger of Orlaan’s right hand, although in fact none of them were actually touched. After a moment, she pointed down, and the flames receded. After giving the norska a slow, careful inspection, Orlaan then put the spit back on the fire, and turned to Wadre.
“No, I am not afraid,” she said.
“Just so,” said the road agent.
He turned to his lieutenant, Mora, and said, “I am sufficiently convinced. Are you?”
“Entirely,” said Mora.
“And the others?”
“I believe I speak for all of them, Captain.”
Wadre turned back to Orlaan. “On reflection, we have determined that, in point of fact, we have no business to transact with you. We therefore wish you a good—”
“But,” said Orlaan, “it may be that I have business to transact with you.”
Wadre shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. “Well, if you have something to say, I give you my word of honor I would never be so lacking in courtesy as to leave without giving you a chance to say it.”
“That is good. Then you will listen?”
“I assure you, I will do nothing else while you do me the honor to speak to me.”
“That is best. But perhaps you could listen better were my mouth at the same height as your ears.”
“There is something in what you tell me. Would you like the use of a horse?”
“Perhaps it would be easier for you to dismount than for me to mount.”
“Just as you say,” said Wadre, and, endeavoring not to appear nervous, climbed down from the saddle. He turned to the other brigands and said, “Stand easy, my friends. I will have conversation with this lady, and then, well, then we will be on our way. In the meantime, keep a lookout, so that our conversation will not be disturbed.”
“That was well done,” said Orlaan.
“Do you think so?”
“I am certain of it.”
“Then I am satisfied.”
“Come, sit next to me.”
“Very well, you see that I am sitting.”
“And are you listening?”
“With all of my attention.”
“Then I will tell you a story.”
“I like stories, if they are good ones.”
“I think mine is a good one.”
“I will listen, and judge.”
“I can ask for no more.”
“Begin, then.”
“Years and years ago, I was in Dragaera City.”
“I presume this was before Adron’s Disaster?”
“That is natural, as there was no Dragaera City after it.”
“That is true.”
“As it happens, however, it was only just before it; that is, within minutes of the Disaster itself.”
“Then you had a narrow escape?”
“The narrowest.”
“Very well. I enjoy hearing about narrow escapes.”
“Oh, it was narrow, and not only because of my proximity to the city, but also because I was attacked.”
“How, attacked?”
“Viciously.”
“By whom?”
“By a set of scoundrels whom I was only barely able to escape, and who, in fact, murdered my father before my eyes.”
“The trey! Did you kill them?”
“There were four of them, and only one of me. I was barely able to escape.”
“The cowards!”
“Yes, they were certainly cowards.”
“Did they die in the city?”
“Not in the least. They are still alive.”
“What, to this day?”
“To this day.”
“But, do you know where they are?”
“Some of them. I hope to learn about the rest.”
“Yes, I understand that.”
“And moreover, one of them has a son, and I do know where he is.”
“The son?”
“Yes. And from him, I can certainly learn where his father is. And to kill the scoundrel’s son seems fitting revenge for the murder of my father.”
“Well, I don’t say that it isn’t.”
“So I shall kill the son, and then I shall hunt down and kill the other four.”
“I understand.”
“Do you like my story?”
“It is full of pathos.”
“Well, but there is a reason I told you of it.”
“I had suspected this might be the case, madam.”
“Your suspicions are well founded.”
“Are they? It pleases me to hear you say so, madam, for I take a certain pride in my suspicions.”
“Have you, then, any more suspicions?”
“Oh, many. For example, I suspect—”
“Yes, you suspect?”
“I suspect that you wish our aid in hunting down and killing these people.”
“There! You see? Once again you have proven yourself clever in the matter of suspicions.”
“Then I am right?”
“Entirely. And the proof is, I am about to make you an offer for your help.”
“I am always glad to listen to an offer, madam.”
“This is it, then. If you give me your loyalty, and aid me in my endeavors, I will see to it that you become both wealthy and powerful.”
“Well, I have no objections to wealth and power.”
“Do you not? That falls out well, then.”
“Yes, that is my opinion.”
“Then you accept?”
“I do not say that I decline, and yet”
“You hesitate?”
“I must consider.”
“Oh, I have nothing against considering.”
“That is good.”
“But tell me what you consider. It is possible I can help in your considerations.”
“Well, I am considering how
much
wealth and power we might expect, in comparison to the amount of danger involved.”
“You think there will be danger?”
“I would suspect, madam—”
“Ah!” You are suspecting again!”
“—that were there no danger, you would need no help.”
“I don’t deny what you say.”
“And then?”
“Should I succeed, I can promise you more wealth than you have dreamed of, and, I think, sufficient power.”
“You say, should you succeed.”
“Yes.”

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