I said, “So, all right, how do the laws of courtesy tell us we should handle this mess?”
“The laws of courtesy,” she said, still smiling, “are strangely silent on the subject.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“In any case,” she added, “I think you know them as well as I do.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “If there’s anything I know, it’s courtliness and good manners. I’m even better at politesse than I am at refining petroleum.”
“I know little of petroleum, Vlad, but I do know that you are actually quite skilled in the arts of courtesy.”
“Right.”
Behind me, Aliera and Morrolan were continuing to speak to the Goddess, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. In the event, this did not displease me.
“It is the simple truth, Lord Taltos. It is how you survived for so long in the world you used to inhabit—or, more precisely, the worlds.”
I bit back a smart reply and just waited. After a moment, she said, “The Jhereg has its own rules and customs, you know—codes of appropriate behavior. You couldn’t have survived among them without knowing what all of their signals mean. And I’ve seen you with my Lord Morrolan. That is another different set of codes.”
I snorted. “I’ve almost pushed him far enough to kill me. More than once.”
“I know that, too,” she said.
“Well then?”
“What stopped him from killing you?”
“His strong sense of self-interest combined with iron self-control.”
“I don’t believe that is entirely correct, Lord Taltos. I know him rather well, I think, and there are severe limits to his self-control, whereas there are no limits to his pride. Had you pushed far enough, you would have faced a mortal contest.”
Morrolan, Aliera, and the Goddess all turned and walked out the door. I guess if you put a pretty little stream outside your door, people will want to look at it. I hoped the Jenoine would feel gratified.
“Okay,” I said to Teldra. “Look. I’ll concede that, over the years, I’ve learned that there’s no point in making a bad situation worse, and that it’s less work to talk yourself out of a tough spot than to slice your way out, and that words, while potentially deadly, are less deadly than Morganti daggers. But I don’t think that is quite the same thing as being courteous.”
“I believe, Lord Taltos, that it is very much the same thing. And you know more than those things, if I may say so. You know when a casual insult is, in fact, courteous under the circumstances—and when it is not. You know when to make a friendly gibe, and when the gibe is not quite so friendly, but still called for. You know how to negotiate from a position of weakness but make it appear to be a position of strength. These are the sorts of things I’m talking about. And do you know how many of our folk—and yours—never learn these lessons that appear so simple to you?”
“Maybe, being an Easterner, I have a natural talent.”
“You forget how many Easterners I have known, Vlad. Your people have no such natural talent. In fact, the conditions under which your people live tend to promote the opposite: an irritating obsequiousness, or an aggravating combativeness.”
After a moment’s thought, I said, “That’s true.”
She nodded. “It is really all a question of taking appropriate action for the circumstances. I’m sure you realize that I could have this conversation with few others—human or Eastern—that I know. Some it would embarrass, others it would merely confuse.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“You have learned, faster than some of my own House, what actions—and words are only a special case of actions—are appropriate to the moment.”
“A survival skill, Teldra.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Ah. That’s your point, isn’t it?”
She smiled, making me feel like my grandfather had made me feel when I had managed the correct riposte after parrying a lowline cut.
Morrolan, Aliera, and Verra returned at this point, speaking in low tones. I gestured toward them and said, “And the Goddess?”
“What about her?”
“What need has she of courtesy?”
“Toward her peers, the same as you or I. Toward us? None. Many of the gods, I believe most of them, display a certain degree of courtesy even though none is needed. Those who don’t acquire a reputation.”
“For being, say, chaotic?”
“Yes.”
“So it is all a question of courtesy?”
“It is all a question of doing the appropriate thing. Of acting as the situation calls for.”
“Appropriate thing. You keep saying that, Teldra. When someone walks up to me and says, ‘Out of the way, whiskers, you’re blocking the road,’ is it appropriate to bow and say, ‘Yes, my lord?’ Is it appropriate to suggest his mother was a toothless norska? Or to quietly step out of his way? Or to urinate on his boot? Or to pretend to ignore him? Or to put a knife into his left eye? Just what does appropriate mean, anyway?”
“Any of those things might be appropriate, Vlad, and I daresay there are circumstances where you might do any of them. But you are always, or nearly always, correct in which you choose. And this is not a matter of instinct, but of observation, attention to detail, and experience. Appropriate action means to advance your own goals, without unintentional harm to anyone else.”
“Unintentional harm.”
“Yes.”
“By Verra’s tits,” I said, forgetting then remembering that be pair of them weren’t all that far away, “you’re as cold as Morrolan, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” said Teldra, “I suppose so. Or as cold as you.”
“Me? I’m not cold. I’m the soul of compassion, understanding, and courtesy.”
“Yes,” said Teldra, dimpling. “You are indeed. But only when it is appropriate.”
I chuckled. And, “Okay. I’m convinced. All problems are matters of courtesy, and I am the personification of tact. So, to return to the question, what is the appropriate thing for us to do now?”
“I have no idea,” said Teldra, still smiling. “I imagine that is what our friends are discussing right now.”
I glanced over at them: heads together, deep in conversation.
“Great,” I said. “I can hardly wait to see what they’ll come up with.”
“I have no doubt,” said Teldra, “that it will be entertaining.”
I nodded. “Entertaining. Good. That’s always been high on my list for the kind of plan I need to get out of a fix.”
She didn’t reply. I shrugged, gave her a hint of a bow, and wandered over to the others. As I approached, they all stopped talking and looked up, like they’d been caught at something.
“Well?” I said. “Have we come up with the ultimate solution to all of our physical and spiritual problems? Have we saved the world, made sure the Empire is secure, and—”
“That will do, little Easterner,” said the Goddess, giving me a look that made me question what Teldra had just been telling me. I restrained an insolent shrug, perhaps answering the question.
“What do you think, Loiosh? Am I the very soul of tact, discretion, manners, and courtliness?”
“Am I a three-legged tiassa?”
“]ust checking.”
“We have decided,” said Verra, “that if the Jenoine are not polite enough to appear suddenly and force us into action, we will attack them.”
“That took serious discussion?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, okay. I sort of suspected you might come up with that one. Have you worked out the details yet?”
“Some of them.”
“Okay. How are you going to try to get me killed this time?”
“This time,” said Verra, “we just might succeed.”
“Heh. You should be so lucky.”
Morrolan said, “We’re trying to reach the Necromancer. We’re hoping she—”
“The Necromancer!”