Her voice and demeanor—brisk and slightly bored—went with the surroundings the way lemon juice goes with cream; she sounded more like an Imperial clerk in charge of tax rolls than a magistrate of the House of justicers. I said, “I want information about a case.”
“Name,” she repeated.
“Aliera e’Kieron, House of the Dragon.”
“Your name,” she said, with the air of someone trying very hard to be patient in spite of provocation.
But you can’t operate in the Jhereg without knowing some of the basics of the Imperial justice system; no one but an idiot breaks a law without knowing that he’s doing it, and what he’s risking, and the best ways to reduce the risk. “I don’t choose to give it,” I said. “I want public information on the case of Aliera e’Kieron, whose name has been entered under Imperial Articles of Indictment for Felonious Conduct.” I paused. “Of course, if you wish, I can ask at the House of the Dragon, and explain that the House of the Iorich wasn’t willing to—”
I stopped because she was glaring and writing; continuing the battle after you’ve won just wastes energy. She handed me a piece of paper; I didn’t bother looking at it, because I don’t know the symbols the House of the Iorich uses instead of the perfectly reasonable writing the rest of us get by with.
“Room of the Dolphin, see the clerk. He will answer your questions. Good day.”
I walked down the hall. She hadn’t even addressed me as my lord. Once. My feelings were hurt.
I’d been in the Halls of the Iorich often enough to believe I could find my way around, but not often enough to actually do so. I saw a few Iorich as I walked—clerks, men-at-arms, and perhaps one was a magistrate—but I didn’t feel like risking a snub to ask any of them for directions. Nevertheless, after most of an hour, I managed to find the correct stairway to the correct hallway to the correct room. The man behind the desk inside—very young, an apprentice of some sort, no doubt—glanced up as I came in, smiled, frowned, then looked puzzled about just what sort of attitude he was supposed to adopt.
Before he could decide I gave him the paper. He glanced at it, and said, “Of course,” stood up, and vanished through a door on the far end of the room. He returned before I had time to decide if I should sit down at the chair opposite his desk. He had a fairly large sheaf of papers in his hand. The papers all had two holes on the top with pieces of white yarn running through them.
“Sit down, my lord,” he said, and I did. “Aliera e’Kieron,” he said.
I nodded.
“Arrested on the ninth day of the month of the Hawk of this year, charged with violation of Imperial Edict Folio ninety-one part thirty paragraphs one and two. Intent to Indict filed with Her Imperial Majesty the tenth day of the month of the Hawk of this year. Writ of felony placed before the Circle of Magistrates on—”
“Pardon me.”
He looked like a draft horse pulled to a stop just short of the barn door, but he managed, “Yes, my lord?”
“Would you mind telling me what Folio ninety-one. . . that is, what the charges are? I mean, in plain speech?”
“Oh. Use of Elder Sorcery.”
“Barlen’s crack,” I muttered. “Nice work, Aliera.”
“Your pardon, my lord?”
“Nothing, nothing. I was talking to myself. Who accused her?”
“Her Majesty.”
“Heh. Anything on how Her Majesty learned of the crime?”
“I’m not permitted to say, my lord.”
“All right. Go on, please.”
He did, but there was nothing useful in it, except that, yeah, she had been bound for judgment on a crime. A capital crime.
“Does she have an advocate?”
“She refused, my lord.”
I nodded. “Of course she did. Any friends of the defendant presented themselves yet?”
“I’m not permitted to say, my lord.”
I sighed. “Well, you may as well add me. Szurke, Count.”
“House?”
“Imperial.” I dug out the ring and showed it to him. He was very impressed and so on.
He made some notations, and pressed some seals onto a document, then said, “It is done, my lord. You wish to see the prisoner?”
“Yes.”
“If the prisoner should agree, where can you be reached?”
“Castle Black,” I said, hoping that was sufficient.
It was; he made a notation.
“Has she received any visitors so far?”
“I’m not permitted . . .” Then he shrugged and consulted another paper and said, “No.” I guess that one doesn’t matter so much.
I thanked him, and that concluded my business in the House of the Iorich.
And, having acquired the bare minimum of information—enough to know what I was dealing with—the next step was obvious: I stopped on the stairway, removed my amulet, and carefully made the teleport to the courtyard of Castle Black. I replaced the amulet around my neck and spent a moment taking in my surroundings. It had been years, but it still felt like home, in a different way than Adrilankha did. It’s hard to explain.
I tapped the hilt of Lady Teldra, wondering if somewhere down there she felt like she was home, too; but I didn’t feel a response. I think.
I didn’t approach the doors right away; I took a good look around. Around; not down. I knew what was down: a long drop and unforgiving stone. I wear an amulet that prevents sorcery from working on me, and sometime after I got it I came out here, to the courtyard, and it was only a day or two later that I realized I ought to have wondered whether the amulet would interfere with the spells that kept me up in the air. I mean, it was fine; whatever the nature of the courtyard, it doesn’t require sorcery to act on me directly. But I really should have thought about that before walking onto it, you know?
There were pairs of guards stationed at various points along the walls. Always pairs: one fighter, one sorcerer. So far as I know, they’ve never had anything to do since the Interregnum, but they’re always there. Cushy job, I suppose. But boring. Nice to know they still recognized me, though. At least, I assumed they recognized me, because otherwise they ought to have challenged me or something.
The walls were black; I could see the little veins of silver running through the ones nearest me. I turned, and the castle itself, also black, towered over me, the highest turrets were blurred and indistinct where they kissed the Enclouding. I lowered my eyes to the great double doors. How many times had I walked through them, to be greeted by Lady Teldra, followed by conversation deep or trivial, amusing or infuriating? Lady Teldra wouldn’t greet me this time.
When I’d had my moment of nostalgia, I walked up to the doors, which opened for me in their usual grandiose, overdramatic way. I’m a sucker for that stuff, though, so I liked it. I stepped inside, and before me was a white-haired Dragaeran gentleman, in a frilly white shirt with green tapered pants. I stared at him. Rudely, I suppose, though I didn’t think about it, and he didn’t act as if it were rude. He simply bowed and said, “I am Skifra, and I welcome you to Castle Black. Am I correct in that I have the honor to address my lord Morrolan’s excellent friend Lord Taltos?”
I returned his bow by way of assenting that he did, indeed, have that honor, such as it was.