Dragon

"I'm a worrier, chum."

Unfortunately, there was nothing much to do that day, so I got to be pensive. I wanted to get up and pace, wander around the office, sit back down, and do all the things one does when one is nervous. But it's just no damn good letting your subordinates think you're easy to shake, so I sat at my desk, cooked some meals in my mind, remembered past lovers, and exchanged banter with Loiosh.

Lunchtime was a relief. I went to an Eastern place run by a woman named Tserchi and had roasted duckling in a sour cherry sauce garnished with celery root and served with a pan-fried garlic bread that wasn't as good as Noish-pa made but was perfectly edible. I tried to linger over the food, which of course made me eat faster. Tserchi joined me after the meal. I had a sorbet for dessert along with an orange liqueur and the pleasure of hearing her complain about how much she had to pay for ice. I was glad she was there, because I don't like eating alone. I made it back to the office and Kragar was waiting for me.

I noticed his cloak when I returned, so I knew he was there. I sat down at my desk and tried not to look like I was waiting for him.

If you're getting the impression that I'd built this thing up into something far more important than it probably was, well, I told myself the same thing. The fact that I turned out to be right might make me seem prescient. I don't know. I've been wrong about such things, too, but those occasions don't make for interesting stories.

"Okay, Vlad, I've got it," Kragar told me.

"Took you long enough," I said, just because I was irritated.

"Uh huh. And suppose I just walked in and gave you a name. What would you say?"

I'd have told him to go find out about the guy, of course, and probably have made some sarcastic remark about his failure to have already done so. Sometimes you have to admit defeat.

"Okay," I said. "Good work."

"Thanks."

"Sit down and let's hear it."

Melestav stuck his head in right then and said, "Kragar? I found that map."

"Thanks. Bring it in, please."

We're always polite to each other around the office.

I bit back any questions that Kragar would feel smug about answering, and waited. I shuffled paperweights and writing gear off to the side of my desk while Kragar unrolled a map that almost covered it. The map seemed fairly recent, and had the peculiar mix of sharp and fuzzy areas that denotes a psiprint; most of it, however, was very clean and distinct, indicating a skilled and careful artist. I recognized the region at once because Dzur Mountain was marked near the left-hand border, and I recognized the Barnsnake River two-thirds of the way toward the right, which meant the markings on the right border were the foothills of the Eastern Mountains.

Kragar pointed to an area a little above and to the right of Dzur Mountain. "Fornia County," he said, tracing an area that ran almost all the way to the edge of the map.

"Never heard of it."

"Oh, well, never mind, then."

"Get on with it."

"Melestav is looking for a more detailed map, just in case we need it. But that's where the weapon went."

"And what do you know of Fornia? Count or Countess?"

"Count. Fornia e'Lanya. Dragonlord, of course. And a neighbor of Sethra Lavode."

"I wonder who borrows sugar from whom?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Eastern custom."

"The name 'Fornia' comes from the old language of the House of the Dragon and means 'patience.' There's probably a story there but I don't know it. Fornia is old; over two thousand. A sorcerer of some repute. Battle magic, mostly. He also keeps a staff of sorcerers to assist him. No discoveries, but they have a good reputation in the House."

I grunted.

Kragar continued. "He did a fair bit of expanding before the Interregnum, and he's been at it again during the last hundred years or so. Maintains a standing army of about six hundred, but also hires as needed, including Easterners. He—"

"Easterners? I don't understand."

"He's been known to hire Eastern mercenaries for certain actions."

"Eastern mercenaries?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know—I've never heard of—"

"Neither did I and I haven't either."

"Are you sure about it?"

"Yes," said Kragar.

"From where in the East?"

"Not your part. Farther south, as I understand it. Some foot soldiers, but a lot of horsemen. He's known to keep a strong cavalry and to use it well."

"What do you mean, my part?"

"The part of the East your family came from."

"How do you know which part of the East my family came from?"

"Vlad—"

"Yes?"

"Did you think I would be willing to work for you without finding out anything about you?"

"Uh … what else did you find out?"

"You don't really want to know, do you?"

"Hmmm. All right. Go on."

"That's very strange, Boss."

"How much Kragar knows about me? Or the business with the Eastern mercenaries?"

"Well, both, but I was thinking about the Eastern mercenaries."

"Yeah, it's strange."

"Did you find out why he'd have stolen the weapon?"

"No, but I have a theory: the same reason anyone else would have; they represent power. If you want things like that, they're the sorts of things you'd want."

I digested that and failed to find a suitable response. "You said he keeps trying to expand his area. What does the Empress have to say about it?"

"He's been going after other Dragonlords; the Empress has pretty much the same attitude about that as about Jhereg wars: Let them have at each other as long as it doesn't interfere with the workings of the Empire."

"Interesting parallel; I wonder what Morrolan would think about it?"

Kragar smiled. I think, as a one-time Dragonlord, he took special joy in remarks like that. Of course, it also made him a good source of information about matters military.

"All right," I said. "Let me summarize. What we have is a matter of Dragons acting like Dragons. This Fornia is after more land and power, so he steals a Morganti weapon, and Morrolan is after the same, so he doesn't want him to, and we can tell Morrolan who this guy is, and then we're done, and there's nothing more to it. Right? Heh. So, what haven't you told me?"

"The main thing is: Dragonlords don't steal."

"I see. And therefore?"

"One possibility is that he wanted it really, really badly. Another is that he intended to be outraged."

"Excuse me?"

Kragar paused and stared at the ceiling as if to formulate a complicated thought. "He steals the thing, Morrolan accuses him of stealing the thing, he gets outraged."

"Oh. Is he a Dragon or a Yendi?"

"They aren't all that different, Vlad." I started to speak, but Kragar quickly said, "I should qualify that. Yendi are like that all the time, but a Dragon on a campaign is capable of subtlety when necessary."

"Okay, I get it."

"So," said Kragar, "there's likely more going on than we know about."

"Well, okay, fine. How does it concern us?"

"I don't know. Maybe, if we're lucky, not at all."

I sighed. "Okay. I'll report what I've found out—"

"What who has found out?"

"—to Morrolan and see what he says. But I'm not going to go steal that thing back." Then I asked hopefully, "Is there anything that needs attention around here before I go put myself in the Dragon's maw?"

" 'Fraid not."

"All right. Thanks. Good work."

You don't, Sethra explained to me after it was all over, get to pick and choose your resources when you begin a campaign. In other words, the object is to make the best use of what you have and to find a way to pit your strengths against the enemy's weaknesses. She used a complicated example I didn't follow involving pitting cavalry against sorcery, and long, fast marches against an enemy entrenched in a long line. Her point being that the first thing you do when starting a campaign is assess your own strengths and weaknesses and your opponent's in light of your goals.