I made the adjustment from the Eastern "week" to the Dragaeran, and nodded. "How did he find you?"
"I don't know. It was after His Lordship gave me the assignment to follow you. Perhaps a servant?"
"Probably. Finding the local lord and pumping one of his servants for information would have been a natural first step."
The Count said, "I will discover who it was."
"If you wish," I said. "I don't think it matters much. If you paid your servants enough so they weren't susceptible to bribes, they'd no longer be servants." I turned back to Dahni. "When does he expect to hear from you again?"
"Today, an hour before dusk."
"And?"
He winced.
"Relax," I said. "You've been given your life, and it's much too late for any of us to start liking you. Now let's hear it."
He nodded. "I'm to deliver a layout of the manor, precisely where you are within it, the position of the guards, and how closely you are guarded."
"And then?"
"When he returns, I am to be paid. If he really plans to pay me, of course, and not to either just leave, or kill me."
"Don't worry," I said. "He'll carry out his bargain. Or, well, he would."
"You know him?"
"I know his kind. I presume you were paid something up front?"
He nodded.
"Then not only do you get to live, but, ah, one moment."
"Loiosh, how much gold am I carrying with me?"
"I don't know, Boss. A lot. Five pounds or so?"
I said, "You can also pick up ten gold coins of the Empire. Pure gold. Interested?"
"Ten coins," he said. "Each coin is, ah, what?"
"An ounce," I said. "A seventeenth of an Imperial pound."
"That's what you call an ounce?"
"Yes."
"That's strange."
"It's an Imperial measure. What do you call an ounce?"
"A sixteenth of a standard pound."
"And that isn't strange?"
"Good point."
"Well?"
"What do I have to do?"
"Dissemble."
"I think I see where this is going."
"I suspect you do. Well?"
He thought it over, but I knew which way it would go—I could see the greed dancing in his eyes. I knew that look well; I'd made my living on it, directly or indirectly, for many years.
"All right," he said.
"Good. Give him the information, just as agreed. Only leave out this conversation, and anything else that might give him the idea he's expected. As far as he's concerned, everything's fine. Understand?"
He nodded.
"Tell him things get quiet here about four hours after sunset."
He nodded again.
"Do you think you can pull it off?"
"Dissembling? What do you think?"
"Good point. Look at me, Dahni."
"I am looking at you."
"No, look at what's been done to me." My voice sounded hoarse to my ears.
He swallowed and nodded.
"Keep it in mind, Dahni. Because I don't trust you. And if you turn on me, I'm going to have you delivered to me, and this is what I'm going to do to you."
I looked at His Lordship, who looked back at me, hesitated, then nodded once.
"I understand," said Dahni.
"Good. Go keep your appointment. You'll be paid when— when matters have been attended to."
"Aren't you going to ask how much I was to be paid for delivering you?"
"I never indulge in morbid curiosity," I lied.
After he'd gone, and before I could make the suggestion, His Lordship turned to one of the guards and said, "Do we have anyone who can follow him without making it obvious?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Then do so."
He dismissed the other guard as well, and we were alone.
"Well?" he said. "Now what?"
Now I wanted to sleep.
"Send a troop. Good men, who can move in close before doing anything. Don't give him time to get a spell off, assuming he can—"
"Just kill him? With no warning, no capture, no trial, on your say-so alone?"
"Yes," I said, and waited.
I figured I didn't need to draw it out for him, and I didn't; he finally nodded. "All right."
"Find a witch and tell him you need Nesiffa powder. A lot of it. A sackful."
"What is it?"
"It's the base of an infusion for curing migraines, but that isn't what you want it for. It's a powder, but each grain will stick to skin or cloth. You have everyone in the attack group carry some in his left hand, and throw it at the guy first thing."
"Because?"
"He won't teleport; that takes too long; When he realizes he's being attacked—which ought to be no more than a second before the attack starts or we're out of luck—the first thing he's likely to try is to disappear, if he can. And he probably can; it's a simple enough spell. Covered with that stuff, your men can still see him. It's an old trick, but a good one."
"All right. What was it called?"
"Nesiffa powder. Find good people, who can stay quiet. I mean, dead quiet. Hide outside of the cabin and wait for him to come out, and then just take him. No warning or you'll lose him."
He nodded. He didn't like it. Me, the only part I didn't like was the chance for a screw-up.
"You'll find a money belt in the box they brought in with me. Take—"
"No," he said. "I'll see that he's paid."
"All right," I said.
Once His Lordship was clear on everything, he wished me well and let himself out. The witches came in right away and changed my poultices and made me drink more disgusting messes; then the physicker's assistant, whom I hadn't seen before, came in and muttered various well-meant meaningless sounds and changed my dressings, after which I was finally left alone.
I was exhausted.
"If this works, we'll be—"
"In the same situation we're in now, Boss. The Jhereg knows where you are."
"We'll have bought some time."
"A day? Two days? A week?"
"They'll still have the same problem, Loiosh. I'll have to be moved back into town is all" I tried not to think of another ride in the back of a wagon. "One thing at a time, right, chum?"
"Right, Boss," He didn't seem happy.
As far as I could tell, Rocza was fine. I asked Loiosh and he agreed. "I think she was just trying to get my sympathy, Boss"
Sometimes, it's best for Loiosh that Rocza can't hear what he's telling me.
The next thing I did was sleep.
I think I slept three or four hours, which was the longest uninterrupted sleep I could remember in a long time. The witches had returned, and they consulted each other in low voices while mixing things at the opposite end of the room so I couldn't see. I guess they didn't value my opinions. They came back and made me drink things, and put wet things on me. I had to admit, the wet things felt pretty good. Then I guess I slept some more.
I awoke to Loiosh's voice in my head, saying, "Boss, they're back."
"Who? What?"
I opened my eyes as His Lordship came into the room, flanked by a pair of guards, one looking bright and shiny, the other dusty and dirty and, yes indeed, bloodstained.
I looked my question at the Count.
"They did it," he said. "He's dead."
I felt a tension drain out of me, and I nodded.
He gestured to the bloodstained guard. "Show him."
The guard came forward and for a second I thought he was going to show me the guy's head, but the bundle in his hand was too small and the wrong shape. He unwrapped it and showed it to me. A dagger, about nine inches of blade, almost all point. Just the sort of thing I'd have picked. The metal was grayish black and didn't reflect the light. I couldn't feel it, but I shuddered anyway.
"What is it?" asked the old man, harshly.
"A special sort of weapon. It is—" I broke off. I didn't want to say "evil" because it sounded silly. But no other word quite described that thing. "It is something you should keep. Set it aside, put it in your vault, make—"