A quick glance suggested that she was a Jhegaala, like Byrna, which might or might not be significant. I gave her my name, then his, saying I was to meet him. She nodded and pointed down a dark hallway. “First door on the right, my lord.”
I looked back at the Dzur, estimating how long it would take her to get from where she was to the door I was about to go through. The way she was keeping one foot so casually under the chair, I’d say just over three seconds.
Shoen went first, then me, then Sticks. When Shoen reached the door, he looked a question at me; I nodded, he clapped. Someone called to enter, so he did. Sticks and I waited there in the hall. It isn’t like we were alert, ready to move and go for weapons at the first sign of excitement; it’s just that, well, I guess we were.
Shoen came back out and said, “One guy, sword on the table in front of him.”
I nodded and he went back in, then me, then Sticks.
It was a small room, with two chairs and a table, and not a whole lot more space than that—the sort of room for a private card game, maybe, or a meeting of three or four Chreotha who want to pool their resources and start a laundry service. The individual seated behind the table was certainly not Byrna. He wasn’t even a Jhegaala; from both his slightly feline features and the blue and white of his clothes, I took him for a Tiassa. A bit younger than middle age—he probably hadn’t seen his thousandth year. His hair was light brown and long, his eyes were bright. He was studying me as I was studying him.
“Sit down,” he suggested. “Let’s talk.”
The naked sword lying across the table was slimmer and lighter than usual, though still heavier than mine. His hands were out of sight below the table. If he made a move for the sword while I was sitting in the chair, things were liable to get interesting. The room wasn’t big enough for much swordplay, which worked to my advantage, as I was carrying a lot of little things with points on them. I studied him a bit more. He held my eye and waited.
“Sticks. Shoen,” I said. “Wait for me. I’ll be out presently.”
They both left without a word, footsteps echoing as I continued my study. My hard stare failed to intimidate him so I sat down.
“I’m Vlad,” I said.
He nodded. “I’m the Blue Fox.”
“You aren’t really.”
“You’ve heard of me?” He seemed surprised.
“No. No, if I had heard that there was someone going around calling himself the Blue Fox, I’d remember. You don’t really, do you?”
“I tried wearing a mask for a while, but it was uncomfortable so I stopped.”
“Why?”
“You Easterners have no sense of the theatrical.”
“I’ve heard that said. In any case, I can’t think of an Easterner who has ever called himself the Blue Fox, so maybe you’re right.”
“I’ve met an Easterner who calls himself the Warlock.”
“No, everyone else calls him that.”
He shrugged. “In any case, if we’re done talking about my name, perhaps we can—”
“What do I call you? Blue? Lord Fox?”
“Blue Fox will do fine. Are you trying to make me angry because you think it will give you an advantage over me?”
“I hadn’t actually worked that out,” I said. “But probably. If you’re going to give me an opening like that—”
“Why don’t we talk first, and find out if we even have anything to quarrel about, before we start trying to get advantages over each other?”
“Oh, we have a quarrel. You sent one of my people to a physicker with a lot of holes in him. It hurt my feelings.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you’d take it personally.”
“I guess I’m over-sensitive. I assume the attractive Dzurlord out there is with you?”
“Pretty, isn’t she?”
“She is. Certainly prettier than the guys I brought.”
“The tall one is kind of cute, in a boyish way.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.”
“Ready to talk business yet?”
“Are you a friend of Byrna?”
“Close enough, I guess. I’m handling the negotiations for him.”
“Negotiations,” I repeated.
“Do you have a better word?”
“Not just now. Give me some time and I’ll come up with one.”
“Take as much time as you need. But while you’re thinking, we seem to have a problem.”
“Yes. Byrna owes me money.”
The Tiassa who had introduced himself as the Blue Fox nodded. “That’s a problem. He doesn’t have it.”
“That’s another problem,” I said.
“He came to me—or, to be precise, his wife came to Ibronka, and—”
“Ibronka? The Dzur?”
He nodded.
“That’s an Eastern name,” I said.
“And a very pretty one. His wife came to Ibronka, you don’t need to know how, and said that you were going to hurt him if he didn’t give you money. Seemed like I should step in.”
“Did his wife go to her when he needed to borrow the money?”
“No, she should have though. We’d have found it.”
“If you find it now, and give it to me, that’ll solve the problem.”
“Over time, the amount has become rather large.”
“Yes, that does happen.”
“Hence, I thought I’d negotiate.”
“You see, Lord Blue, I’m generally willing to negotiate.”
“Generally?”
“Generally. But there’s the matter of the holes you put in one of my people. I don’t care for that. And then there’s the fact that instead of coming to me like a gentleman and explaining that he was having problems, in which case I’d have been willing to work something out with him, he avoided me for several weeks, and then you show up. To be blunt, Lord Blue, I’m just not feeling inclined to negotiate much of anything. So, now what?”
He glanced at the sword on the table. I carefully placed my hands on the table, smiled at him, and waited.
“You’re very good,” he said at last.
“At what?”
“Fighting. I can tell. You think you can take me. I think I can take you.”
I smiled and waited, my hands on the table. The weight of the dagger in my left sleeve was reassuring.
He glanced at Loiosh and said, “You think your friend there will give you an edge.”
“Possibly,” I told him.
“I don’t think it will be enough.”
I nodded, my eyes never leaving his. I was pretty sure I could take him even without Loiosh’s help. But you never know until you’re there.
“But,” he said, still maintaining eye contact, “as I told you, I would prefer to negotiate.”
“I’m not inclined to negotiate.”
“Do you really want to push this?”
“I’m in a bad mood. I told you why.”
“You shouldn’t lend money at ruinous interest rates, then threaten violence when people can’t pay, and then act surprised when they go to extraordinary lengths to protect themselves.”
“Have I been acting surprised?”
“Good point.”
“I have more good points. Like, he knew the rates when he took the loan. And he would have had no reason to fear violence even when he got behind if he’d come to me and explained his problem. I’m always willing to work with someone, up until the time they bring in a hired sword to mess up my people.”
“He didn’t handle this very well.”
“No.”
“He could have gone to the Empire, instead of to me.” I didn’t say anything to that. After a while he said, “Yes, well, we both know that would have been a mistake.”