Yendi (4 page)

"Boss? Varg and Temek."

"Send them in."

They entered. "Right on time, boss!" said Temek. Varg just looked at me.

"Okay," I said, "let's go."

The three of us left the office, went into the shop. I was heading toward the door when--"
Hold it a minute, boss.
" I knew that tone of telepathy, so I stopped.

"
What is it, Loiosh?
"

"
Me first.
"

"
Oh? Oh. All right.
"

I stepped to the side. I was about to tell Varg to open the door when he came up and did it. I noted that. Loiosh flew out.

"
All clear, boss.
"

"
Okay.
"

I nodded. Varg stepped out first, then I, then Temek. We turned left and strolled up Copper Lane. My grandfather, while teaching me Eastern fencing, had warned me against being distracted by shadows. I told him, "Noish-pa, there
are
no shadows near the Empire. The sky is always--"

"I know, Vladimir, I know. Don't be distracted by shadows. Concentrate on the target."

"Yes, Noish-pa."

I don't know why that occurred to me, just then.

We reached Malak Circle and walked around it to the right, then headed up Lower Kieron Road. I was in enemy territory. It looked just like home.

Stipple Road joined Lower Kieron at an angle, coming in from the southwest. Just past this point, on the left, was a low stone building nestled in between a cobbler's shop and an inn. Across the street was a three-story house, divided into six flats. The low building was set back about forty feet from the street, and there was a terrace with maybe a dozen small tables set up on it. Four of these were occupied. Three of them we ignored, because there were women or kids at them. The fourth, close to the door, had one man, in the black and gray of House Jhereg. He might as well have been wearing a sign saying "enforcer."

We noted him and continued. Varg walked inside first. While we waited, Temek glanced around openly, looking like a tourist at the Imperial Palace.

Varg came out and nodded. Loiosh flew in and perched at the back of an unoccupied booth. "
Looks good, boss.
"

I entered, and stopped just past the threshold. I wanted to let my eyes adjust to the dim light. I also wanted to turn and bolt back home. Instead, I took a couple of deep breaths and walked in.

As the inviter, it was up to me to select the table. I found one against the back wall. I sat so I could watch the entire room (I noticed a couple more of Laris's people in the process), while Varg and Temek took a table about fifteen feet away. It had an unobstructed view of mine, yet was politely out of earshot.

At precisely noon, a middle-aged (say around a thousand) Jhereg walked into the room. He was of medium height, average girth. His face was nondescript. He wore a medium-heavy blade at his side and a full cloak. There were none of the telltale signs of the assassin about him. I saw no bulges where weapons were likely to be hidden, his eyes didn't move as an assassin's would, he didn't hold himself with the constant readiness that I, or any other assassin, would recognize. Yet--Yet he had something else. He was one of those rare people who radiates power. His eyes were steady, but cold. His arms were relaxed at his sides, his cloak thrown back. His hands looked perfectly normal, yet I was aware that I feared them. I was an assassin, trying to be a boss. Laris had maybe "worked" once or twice, but he
was
a boss. He was made to run Jhereg businesses. He would command loyalty, treat his people well, and suck every copper piece possible from everything he had a hand in. If things had worked out differently I might have gone with Laris instead of Tagi-chatn, and he and I could have done well together. It was a shame. He slid in across from me, bowing and smiling warmly. "Baronet Taltos," he said.

"Thank you for the invitation. I don't get here often enough; it's a good place." I nodded. "It's my pleasure, my lord. I've heard it highly spoken of. I'm told it's very well-managed."

He smiled at that, knowing that I knew, and bowed his head to acknowledge the compliment. "I'm told you know something of the restaurant business yourself, Baronet."

"Call me Vlad. Yes, a little bit. My father--"

We were interrupted by the waiter. Laris said, "The pepper sausage is particularly good."

"
See, boss, I--
"

"
Shut up, Loiosh.
"

"So I've heard." I told the waiter, "Two please," and turned back to Laris. "A red wine, I think, my lord. Per--"

"Laris," he corrected.

"Laris. Perhaps a Kaavren?"

"Excellent."

I nodded to the enforcer--excuse me, the "waiter"--who bowed and left. I gave Laris as warm a smile as I could. "This would be a nice kind of place to run," I told him.

"You think so?" he said.

I nodded. "It's quiet, a good, steady clientele--that's the important thing, you know. To have regular customers. This place has been here a long time, hasn't it?"

"Since before the Interregnum, I'm told."

I nodded as if I'd known it all along. "Now some people," I said, "would want to expand this place--you know, add an extension, or another floor--but why? As it is, it brings in a good living. People like it. I'll bet you that if they expanded it, it would be out of business in five years. But some people don't understand that. That's why I admire the owners of this place."

Laris sat and listened to my monologue with a small smile playing at his lips, nodding occasionally. He understood what I was saying. Around the time I finished, the waiter showed up with the wine. He gave it to me to open; I poured some for Laris to approve. He nodded solemnly. I filled his glass, then mine.

He held the glass up to eye level and looked into it, rotating it by the stem. Khaav'n reds are full wines, so I imagine none of the light penetrated. He lowered the glass and looked at me, leaning forward.

"What can I say, Vlad? Some guy's been working for me for a long time. One of the people who helped me organize the area. A good guy. He comes up to me and says,

'Hey, boss, can I start up a game?"

"What am I supposed to tell him, Vlad? I can't say no to a guy like that, can I? But if I put him anywhere in my area, I'll be cutting into the business of other people who've been with me a long time. That's not fair to them. So I looked around a bit. You've only got a couple of games going, and there's plenty of business, so I figure, 'Hey, he'll never even notice."

"I should have checked with you first, I know. I do apologize." I nodded. I'm not sure what I expected, but this wasn't it. When I told him that expanding into my area would be a mistake, he came back by claiming that he wasn't doing any such thing--that it was just a one-time favor for someone. Should I believe this? And, if so, should I let him get away with it?

"I understand, Laris. But, if you don't mind my asking, what if it happens again?" He nodded as if he'd been expecting the question. "When my friend explained to me that you had visited the place and seemed very unhappy about it, I realized what I'd done. I was just trying to word an apology to you when I got your invitation. As for the future--well, Vlad, if it comes up, I promise to speak to you about it before I do anything. I'm sure we'll be able to work something out."

I nodded thoughtfully.

"
Goatshit, boss.
"

"
Eh? What do you mean?
"

"
This Laris teckla is no teckla, boss. He knew what he was doing by moving someone
into your area.
"

"
Yeah...
"

At that point our pepper sausages showed up. Laris--and Loiosh--were right; it was very good. They served it with green rice covered with cheese sauce. They had a sprig of parsley on the side, like an Eastern restaurant does, but they had fried it in butter, lemon juice, and some kind of rednut liqueur--a nice effect. The pepper sausage had the meat of lamb, cow, kethna, and, I think, two different kinds of game birds. It also had black pepper, red pepper, white pepper, and Eastern red pepper (which I thought showed extraordinarily good taste). The thing was hot as Verra's tongue and quite good. The cheese sauce over the rice was too subtle to match the sausage, but it killed the flames nicely. The wine should probably have been stronger, too. We didn't talk while we ate, so I had more time to consider everything. If I let him have this, what if he wanted more? Go after him then? If I didn't let him have the game, could I stand a war? Maybe I should tell him that I'd go for his idea, just to gain time to prepare, and then come after him when he tried to make another move. But wouldn't that give him time to prepare, too? No, he was probably already prepared. This last was not a comforting thought.

Laris and I pushed our plates away at the same moment. We studied each other. I saw everything that epitomized a Jhereg boss--smart, gutsy, and completely ruthless. He saw an Easterner--short, short-lived, frail, but also an assassin, and everything that implied. If he wasn't at least a little worried about me, he was a fool. But still...

I suddenly realized that, no matter what I decided, Laris had committed himself to taking over my business. My choices were to fight or concede. I had no interest in conceding. That settled part of it.

But it still didn't tell me what to do. If I allowed that one game to operate, it might give me time to prepare. If I shut it down, I would be showing my own people that I couldn't be played with--that I intended to hold what was mine. Which of those was more important?

"I would think," I said slowly, "that I can stand--more wine? Allow me. That I can stand to have your friend in my area. Say ten percent? Of the total income?" His eyes widened a bit; then he smiled. "Ten percent, eh? I hadn't thought of that solution." His smile broadened and he slapped the table with his free hand. "All right, Vlad. Done!"

I nodded and raised my glass in salute, then sipped from it. "Excellent. If this works out well, there isn't any reason that we couldn't broaden the experiment, eh?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good. I'll expect the money at my office every Endweek in the first two hours after noon. You do know where my office is, don't you?"

He nodded.

"Good. Naturally, I'll trust your bookkeeping."

"Thank you," he said.

I raised my glass. "To a long and mutually profitable partnership." He raised his. The edges touched, and there was the ringing sound which denotes fine crystal. I wondered which one of us would be dead in a year. I sipped the dry, full wine, savoring it.

I got behind my desk and collapsed into the chair.

"
Kragar, get your ass in here.
"

"
Coming, boss.
"

"Temek."

"Yeah, boss?"

"Find Narvane, Glowbug, and Wyrn and Miraf'n. Get them here five minutes ago."

"I'm gone." He teleported out, just to be flashy.

"Varg, I want two of them as bodyguards. Which?"

"Wym and Miraf'n ."

"Good. Now where is--oh. Kragar, go talk to the Bitch Patrol. I want a teleport block around this whole building. A good one."

"Both ways?"

"No. Just to keep people out."

"Okay. What's going on?"

"What the hell do you think is going on?"

"Oh. When?"

"We might have until Endweek."

"Two days?"

"Maybe."

"Vlad, what do you do these things for?"

"Go."

He shuffled out.

It wasn't long before Temek returned with Glowbug. I don't know what Glowbug's real name was, but he had bright, shining blue eyes and a love of the long-handled mace. He was really a pleasant, almost jovial guy, but when he started to come at a customer with that mace, his eyes would light up like some lorich fanatic's and the customer would decide that, yeah, he could probably find the money somewhere. It occurs to me that I may be giving you the idea that if you borrow money from me and are thirty seconds late in making a payment, you'll have sixty-five toughs climbing into your windows. No. If we worked like that, it would cost more in free-lance or staff muscle than we'd make, especially with all the potential customers who'd be driven away.

Let me give you an example. About a month and a half before this--eight weeks, I think it was--one of my lenders came in and explained that a guy was into him for fifty gold and wouldn't be able to make his payment. The lender wanted to let it slide, but was that okay with me?

"What's he paying?"

"Five and one," he said, meaning five gold a week principal, plus one gold a week until it was paid off.

"First payment?"

"No. He's made four full, and just the interest for three weeks."

"What happened to him?"

"He runs a tailor shop and hab on Solom. He wanted to try a new line, and it took a quick fifty to get an exclusive. The line--"

"I know, hasn't taken off yet. What's his business worth?"

"Maybe three or four big."

"Okay," I told the guy. "Give him six weeks free. Tell him if he can't start doing at least the interest after that, he's got a new partner until we're paid off." So you see, we aren't all that bad. If somebody is really having trouble and trying to pay, we'll work with him. We want his business again, and we don't make a copper by hurting people. But there are always jokers who think it can't happen to them, or bigmouths who want to show how tough they are, or back-alley lawsmiths who talk about going to the Empire. These people kept me in eating money--and then some--for more than three years.

Narvane, who arrived just a few minutes after Temek and Glowbug, was a specialist. He was one of very few sorcerers who worked for our end of the Jhereg, most Jhereg sorcerers being women and staying with the Left Hand. He was quiet, indrawn, and had vaguely Dragon facial features: thin face and high cheekbones, a long, straight nose and very dark eyes and hair. He was called in when a job required dismantling personal protection spells on someone, or clairvoyance, at which I'd match him up against any Dzur wizard I'd met, and even most Athyras.

Three of them leaned against the wall. Temek had his arms folded while he whistled