"Olore, Tychoben Arisaenn." Standing beside the Hooded, a young woman spoke his words out loud. Just as Jacerryl had said: an interpreter. Tycho caught himself thinking of Magistrate Vanyan and his self-important aide, Dorth. Unlike Dorth, the young woman at the Hood-ed's side seemed like nothing more than a shadow. She stood perfectly still, moving only her lips and eyes. Her hair was pulled back tight, her skin was pale, and she wore clothes of exactly the same color as the Hooded's robes. She bore a striking resemblance to the leatherworker in the cellar shop. Tycho held back a shudder and focused on the Hooded.
It wasn't so strange that the gang leader knew his name. A sharp man would know the names of many people. Tycho just hoped he didn't know too much more, especially about details of the past two days. He bowed again. "Jacerryl Dantakain sent me to you, Hooded," he said carefully, testing the waters.
The Hooded made no visible reaction, but just murmured to the young woman at his side. "I know Jacerryl Dantakain," she said for him. "We've dealt together in the past."
Simple, noncommittal. No mention of the beljurils, of course. Tycho wondered if the Hooded knew how Jacerryl had come by them. "Jacerryl told me you were a connoisseur of exotic weapons. The other day, he showed me a pair of wide swords he bought from you. I have something I think might interest you. Your man "
He started to twist around, but the Hooded just shook his covered head. He raised a hand-gloved in the same leather as his hood-and gestured. The tall man came forward and set Li's saber on the table before him. The Hooded folded back the wrappings carefully. When the weapon was revealed, he nodded. "A Shou dao," he said. His young interpreter delivered the words so smoothly, it was easy to forget she was there. The Hooded ran a hand along the red leather of the scabbard, wrapped it around the brass-fitted grip, and pulled the weapon out. The blade flashed bright. Li had spent as much time in polishing the saber as Tycho had in getting dressed. The Hooded looked at it-appreciatively, Tycho thought-and glanced up at the tall man. "Get Tycho a chair."
The tall man went out through another door and came back with a simple, straight-back chair that he thumped down in front of the Hooded's table. Tycho sat as the Hooded continued to examine the saber, looking at the blade, at the fittings on the hilt, at the condition of the grip. Finally, he nodded and murmured again to his interpreter. Even seated a little closer, Tycho still couldn't quite hear what he said, but the interpreter relayed, "Well used, but well taken care of. A fine weapon-and all the way from Shou Lung unless I'm wrong." She paused, the Hooded said something else, and she added, "Fifteen Sembian gold fivestars."
Tycho's eyebrows rose. "Fifteen Sembian gold would be a fine price-if you were buying a common sword from a smith in Sembia." He leaned forward. "Thirty-five."
The Hooded muttered something his interpreter didn't repeat, but Tycho could have made a good guess at what was said. The robed man considered the saber again. "This did come from farther than Sembia," he admitted. "Twenty."
"You're robbing me," Tycho said bluntly.
The Hooded looked at him and he caught a glimpse of eyes with all the warmth of ice. "This is a warrior's weapon. A good story might increase its value. Where did you get it?"
"From a Shou warrior," Tycho said. He, Veseene, and Li had worked out the best story. Tycho had been in favor of a simple tale of acquiring the weapon in the Shou-town in Telflamm. It was quick, anonymous, and all but impossible for the Hooded to contradict. Li, however, insisted on something more. Yu Mao's butterfly swords had passed through the Hooded's hands. He wanted to know how. Tycho sat back and spun out the story-remarkably close to the truth-that Li had proposed. "He came to Spandeliyon looking for revenge on Brin."
The Hooded said nothing, but he didn't have to: Tycho caught a slight shift in his posture as he leaned forward, eager for word of some misfortune befalling his rival. Tycho stretched out the tale. "Fine figure of a warrior he was, too. All the way from Shou Lung, straight through Telflamm, onto a ship, and here to Spandeliyon. Fiery temper, you could see it in his eyes."
"When?" demanded the Hooded. His interpreter spoke the word in the same monotone in which she relayed all of his speech, but Tycho caught some of his tone. He was caught in the story.
"Only a few days ago."
"What happened?"
Tycho sighed dramatically. "He never made it to Brin. Lander-you know who Lander is?-got him first. I happened across him in his last moments. He pressed the weapon on me and begged me to see his vengeance on Brin through." He coughed. "I'm not that stupid."
"No," the Hooded said, "I can see that. Twenty-two for thedao?"
"I would consider thirty."
"Maybe. Did this angry warrior say why he wanted vengeance on Brin?"
The Hooded was fishing for information now. Tycho held back a smile and said casually, "For the death of his brother while Brin was a pirate on a ship called Sow-."
He blinked as the Hooded stiffened sharply and gloved hands tightened around Li's saber.
It was enough. Li took a slow, deep breath and drew out the Calishite scimitar. No one reacted.
Of course, no one could see him either.
Wily old Veseene's plan had been a good one. Tycho would get himself in to see the Hooded by using the dao and an offer to sell it as bait. Talk alone wouldn't get them the beljurils, though. They needed a way to get past the Hooded's defenses and force their hand physically. They needed magical aid, something more than Tycho could provide.
And so once everything else was prepared, Veseene had brewed up her triple-strength wasp venom tea. Li had been amazed at the transformation in her as the tea took effect. While her personality had been formidable before, with her palsy temporarily suppressed Veseene stood tall and regal, wondrous and confident. And when she began to sing, it was like listening to the imperial performers whose songs drifted over the walls of the Forbidden City in Kuo Те' Lung, except that Veseene wasn't singing for the Emperor but for him! Magic had filled her song, lending it even greater power. She had reached out and touched him -and he had vanished from sight, completely invisible.
Spent by the magic, Veseene had collapsed onto her couch. Tycho had almost cried out, but Veseene had warned them this would happen. They had left her in the care of Laera Dantakain and departed. The magic would only last so long, Veseene had said, and it only hid him from the sense of sight, not from touch or hearing. Tycho had done an excellent job of covering for him as they walked into the Hooded's stronghold, keeping doors open long enough for him to pass through and covering up any sounds he made in climbing the stairs.
It had been a good thing that he had been behind TVcho and the tall guard on the stairs, though. As they had stepped into the Hooded's hall and he had seen the Hooded, Li had frozen. For a moment, he was back in his family's garden, this time on the occasion of his own Blessing Ceremony.
There had been no betrothed to present him with the tools of a man-Mother had stepped forward with a box containing the dao that was his chosen weapon-but that was tempered by the knowledge that in a month's time he would leave Keelung to take the imperial civil service examinations. A son in the service of Shou Lung was better than a good marriage.
As Father and Mother and all of the assorted relatives in attendance had returned to the house, Li drew Yu Mao aside.
"Look!" he said, thrusting the dao into his hands. Yu Mao gave him the knowing gaze of an elder brother already used to the formalities and trappings of adulthood, but drew the dao anyway.
"Very nice," he said approvingly. He had already reached his full growth. For a silk merchant, he was a powerfully built man, tall and broad. Some day, Li thought, I'm going to be just like him.