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"I have a suggestion for what to do between now and then Boss."

"What's that?"

"Put as many miles between us and this smelly hole of a town as your feet can manage.”

"No," I said.

Having made my plans, I let my mind relax, and I hardly moved for the rest of the day. The place filled up again, mostly peasants, no women. Strange. I watched them, and they ignored me, and Orbahn didn't appear.

The next part of the plan involved going to bed early, and I carried it off without a hitch. Loiosh even complimented me on its success. The little punk.

I drank coffee the next morning, and chewed on some poppy-seed rolls, still hot from the oven and with butter and honey. Good stuff. I had the room to myself while I ate, Inchay being in the back taking care of innkeeper things, and I ate slowly, planning how I was going to work things with the Guild.

I should explain: At this point, I was pretty well convinced that it was the Guild that had slaughtered the Merss family. I was ready to change my mind if I had reason to, and I hadn't eliminated the Count or some other person or group I didn't know about; and I wasn't sure enough to act on it. But I was pretty sure they were either responsible, or had a hand in it.

That was going to be the hard part—keeping my temper in check while I dug out the information I needed. I could feel the desire in me to find the Guild Master and watch my stiletto go up under his chin, or into his left eye, whichever was more convenient. I wanted it so bad I almost shook.

"Boss, this has been happening too much lately. Yesterday—"

"I know, Loiosh. I'm working on it.”

I spent a little extra time calming myself down, reminding myself to treat this like a job. No, it wasn't a job; but if I went at it like an amateur, letting my feelings dictate my methods, I'd end up where all amateurs end up. And maybe I'm going to end up there anyway, but not now; not before I'd finished this.

When I felt like I was ready, I stood up, borrowed a pitcher of water to wash the honey off my hands, took a deep breath, and went back out into the stench.

"Were really going to the Guild, Boss?"

"We really are. I don't know if they're behind this, or just have a big part of it, but either way I need to know what I'm up against, and pull some information out of them."

He sighed.

It was early morning, but the Furnace was hidden by gray clouds, making me feel more at home. I turned right out of the door. It wasn't far; it was before the street that turned off toward the docks. The rain started as I stepped inside.

It was a big room, with about four tables, and various official-looking men—about a dozen all together—sitting behind them, doing official-looking things with papers. No women. Odd. There was a staircase in back leading up. My first reaction was that there was too much activity for a Merchants' Guild in a town this size. But what do I know?

The guy at the table next to the door looked up; a young, serious-looking man who didn't eat enough, and, to judge from his pinched-up face and stiff back, he probably never did anything at all he enjoyed. He probably didn't believe in having fun. I should introduce him to this girl who roams the docks.

He wanted to know if he could be of service to me. I had the feeling it wasn't actually all that important to him one way or the other. I thought about breaking his legs, but that was just because I was in a bad mood.

"Chayoor," I told him. "I want to see him." He opened his mouth, hesitated, looked me over, closed his mouth, and hesitated again. I can't actually read minds the way Daymar can, but sometimes, you know, you don't need to—the poor guy was trying to decide my status so he'd know whether to address me as "my lord," or "boy" or something in between. He was having trouble, because I looked like a commoner except for the sword at my side. I felt very bad for him.

"Sir," he finally said, "if you will wait here, I will find out if—"

"Save it," I told him. "My name is Merss Vladimir, and there aren't enough of you here to keep me from seeing him. I assume he is up those stairs. Now, do you want to announce me, or shall I just head up?"

His mouth worked for a moment. I guess one of the worst sides of my character is how much I enjoy doing that to poor little bastards who have no defense against it.

"No," he finally said, keeping his voice low but even. "Your name is Vladimir Taltos, and you will see the Guild Master when he is ready to see you. He has been expecting you. I will see if he is free now. Excuse me."

6

Lefitt: Well, that didn't work either. Boraan: It most certainly did not. Lefitt: So, your next idea? Boraan: A drink, of course. Maize-oishka and water. Six parts water. Lefitt: That seems rather weak. Boraan: Well, but one hundred parts oishka, do you see? Lefitt: Ah. Yes, it is all clear to me now.

—Miersen, Six Parts Water Day Two, Act I, Scene 5

About three years later, as I was watching his back disappear up the stairs, Loiosh said, "Okay, Boss. Now what?"

Nothing builds confidence in subordinates like a quick decision in the face of unexpected circumstances.

"Um," I told him.

That was as far as I'd gotten when the young man came back down the stairs and gestured for me go up. He sat down and returned to whatever he had been doing without giving me another word. I didn't say anything. When you're licked, you're licked.

I did, however, make a point of flicking my cloak aside so I could get to my rapier in a hurry if I needed to, and checked the surprises I had left about my person to make sure they were ready and accessible.

The upper floor was all one room with a high arched ceiling and decorated, if you will, with a strange assortment of items hanging from the walls: a bunch of plants, a pair of boots, a hat, a shirt, a ladle, a hammer, a bottle of wine, and more. It took me a moment to figure out that these represented some or all of the members of the Guild. It was quaint. Anything that stays trite long enough becomes quaint.

Chayoor was a burly, barrel-chested man with thin black curly hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and dark eyes. He rose as I approached, gave me a perfunctory bow, and seated himself while gesturing me toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. He had a desk, not a table. The benefits of power: You get your own desk. I'm not mocking it; I remember how I felt when I got my own desk

I sat down.

"Lord Taltos," he said. "I was informed you would be here."

"I should prefer to be known as Merss, if you don't mind."

"Very well," he said.

"Would you mind telling me who it was who informed you?"

"I'm sorry, that I cannot do."

Okay. Well. This conversation just wasn't going at all the way I'd planned it. The whole intimidating him thing had gotten off to a bad start.

"That's unfortunate," I said. "I have enemies, you know. Also friends. If I don't know whether it was a friend or an enemy that alerted you, it puts me in an uncomfortable position."

"It was a friend," he said.

Right. Just so you know, I didn't have any "friends" who knew where I was going. "And if it had been an enemy, you'd have told me?"

"I see your point," he said. "Nevertheless—"

"Yeah. Well, if it was a friend, I assume he asked you to cooperate with me?"