“It isn’t that simple,” she said, as if I’d been the other party in whatever internal dialogue was going on.
“Explain, then.”
“You keep wanting to make it friendship versus politics.”
I nodded to indicate that I had no idea what she was talking about.
“But it’s never that clear-cut. It’s all about how bad this would be, and what are the chances of that happening, and how sure are you that this or that will or won’t work.”
I nodded again. Having Aliera e’Kieron in an expansive mood was too good a chance to mess up by speaking.
“But she wouldn’t have done it unless—” She broke off and glared at me.
“Unless what?” I said.
“Just shut up.”
“Don’t feel like it,” I said. “Will you talk to an advocate?”
“Why?”
“So they don’t, I don’t know, kill you or something?”
“You think I care about that?”
“I seem to recall you fighting once as if you did. Maybe you were faking it, though.”
“You know damned well that’s different.”
“You know I’ve always had trouble seeing fine distinctions.”
“You’ve always had trouble seeing anything that wasn’t of immediate practical value.”
“You say that like there’s something wrong with it.”
She made a sound of disgust.
“All right,” I said. “Now probably isn’t the time for philosophy. Will you talk to an advocate?”
“No,” she said.
I took it as equivocal.
“Afraid you might be found innocent?”
She looked at me, then looked off. “Go away.” Ambiguous.
“Sure. Meanwhile, what do you know or suspect that would have led to this, ah, situation, that you don’t want revealed?”
“I’m not going to tell you anything, Vlad. Leave me alone.”
It was hard to know how to react when she was being so hesitant about her wishes.
“You’ve been arrested for reasons of State,” I said as if I were sure. “You may not know what they are, but you know that’s what it is. And you’re afraid that if you defend yourself it will interfere with whatever the Empress is doing.”
“Drop dead.”
“It must not have occurred to you that the Empress is counting on you to defend yourself, otherwise she’d never have used this device to accomplish whatever she’s trying to accomplish.”
She looked at me, and there was a flicker of interest in her eyes. “How would you know?”
“She told me. She all but told me, by what she wouldn’t tell me.”
“You spoke to her?”
“I can do that. I have an Imperial title, you know.”
“And she said—”
“I got the feeling there were a lot of things going on she couldn’t tell me.”
“You got the feeling.”
“Right.”
“So you’re guessing.”
“Less than certainty, more than guesswork.”
She made a general sound of disgust.
I waited. Dragonlords are much too stubborn to be convinced of anything by argument, so the trick to dealing with them is to avoid saying something that will get you killed until they come around to your opinion on their own. This is more true of Aliera than most.
She said, “If Her Majesty had not wished for my conviction, she wouldn’t have begun the arrest proceedings.”
“Uh huh,” I said.
Those were the last words spoken for some few minutes. Spoken aloud, I mean; Loiosh spoke a bit into my mind, mostly making observations about Aliera’s character. I’d heard them before. I’d said them before.
“I wish to reemphasize the one important thing,” I said eventually.
“What. Is. That?”
“If you don’t have an advocate, it’ll be pretty obvious to everyone that you’re deliberately sacrificing yourself. If you are deliberately sacrificing yourself, that is liable to undo a great deal of what the Empress is trying to accomplish.”
She stared at me. I think she knew I was just trying to maneuver her into doing what I wanted; the trouble was that it was a valid argument. Eventually she said, “Is the advocate any good?”
“How would I know?” I said. “Probably not.”
She glared. “All right. I’ll see him.”
“I’ll let him know.”
“Get out of here.”
That time I did.
Iorich
4
Lady Otria e’Terics reported that, while no weapons were found on the scene, save those in use by the Imperial army and so marked, and three personal, unmarked weapons claimed by same, there were several implements in or near the cottage that could have been utilized as weapons. See list Appendix 12. Upon being asked if there was evidence that they had been so utilized, Lady Otria e’Terics declined to answer. See Deposition 9.
There’s an inn called Dancer’s Rest not far from the Iorich Wing. It’s one of those places where they figure if they fill the courtyard with marble statues and fountains and flowers that are blooming off-season, they can charge two orbs a night for a nine-copper room. It works, I guess. At least, I paid it. Some of the statues were pretty. And, you know, when you’ve been away from civilization for a while, you value a nine-copper room at any price.
It had the other advantage that, by Jhereg custom, anyone staying there was considered at home. In theory, I should be safe there. In practice, since one of the things the Jhereg wanted me for was breaking a rule like that, I probably shouldn’t bet my soul on it.
It cost another orb to have food sent up to my room, which had a window from which I could see the upper reaches of the Iorich and the Chreotha Wings, the first with its signature bell tower, the latter with its massive wall of bas-relief jungle plants. I could see them well, because the window was glass. That’s the sort of thing you get for two orbs a night.
The bed was considerably softer than the ground I’d gotten used to sleeping on, and there was even enough room to turn with my arms stretched out. That’s the thing about rooms near the Palace: They’re small; probably designed to make the Palace seem bigger, I don’t know.
“You ever planning to fall asleep, Boss?”
“The walls are too thick. It’s too quiet. I’m used to things chittering and rustling all night.”
He didn’t answer, and somewhere in there I fell asleep and had a confusing dream about thick walls that were in between me and something I wanted, I don’t remember what, and I kept trying to dig through them with the dull edge of a knife. Why the dull edge? How should I know; I was only a spectator.
I woke late the next morning, feeling pretty good. Loiosh and Rocza scouted the area, decided it was safe, and I went out looking for klava. Found some. Drank it. Was happy. I also picked up a warm sweet bun stuffed with kethna, and it was good too. Then, with Loiosh and Rocza taking precautions for me, I made my way back to the Iorich Wing.
The advocate’s door was closed and there was a note pinned to it with the initial V in tight, careful script. I took down the note and unfolded it to read, “Running an errand; wait in my office.”
I shrugged and reached for the door handle, and Loiosh said, “Boss!”
I froze. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.”