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Authors: Steven Brust

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BOOK: Five Hundred Years After (Phoenix Guards)
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Khaavren did her the courtesy of turning his back while she changed into a pair of white breeks and a blouse that was also white and decorated only with a bit of gold lace, along with simple, comfortable brown boots. When she announced that she had finished changing her dress, Khaavren escorted her up a stairway in back which led to her quarters, and watched while she summoned a servant to pack a valise and to carry it for her. This operation took some little time, during which the Countess asked if Khaavren knew anything of why she was being arrested.
“I assure you, madam,” said the Tiassa, “that no word of any reason has reached my ears.”
“It is strange, then,” said Bellor.
“Indeed,” said Khaavren. “You are, then entirely ignorant yourself?”
“I feel as simple as cow-herd,” she said.
“So, then, you have done nothing to offend His Majesty?”
“Nothing at all, I swear it.”
“You have not, for example, refused him funds he requested for some purpose or another?”
“How, refused him funds? Oh, Captain, it is true that he requested funds for the Academy of Discretion.”
“And did you supply them?”
“You must understand, Captain, that there were no funds available, which I hardly think is my fault.”
“It is not your fault?” said Khaavren. “You, the Superintendent of Finance?”
“Well, it is true that I am Superintendent of Finance. But in that role, I only keep watch on what money there is—I cannot create it.”
“Well, and did you explain this to His Majesty?”
“Of a certainty I did.”
“And did he seem satisfied with the explanation?”
“As to that, I could not say. At any rate, he asked me to show him the records.”
“Well?”
“Well you understand, Captain, that I could not do so. The intendant who kept track of such things is scarcely cold. He was murdered, you perceive—”
“Yes. Smaller was his name, was it not?”
“That was it exactly.”
“And he was the one who knew the state of the treasury?”
“As well, Captain, as you know your sword.”
“You must miss him.”
“To be sure, there has not been an hour since his death when I have not mourned him.”
“What sort of fellow was he?”
“Oh, as to that, I couldn’t say. We hardly exchanged ten words in the scores of years he has been employed by me. Yet—”
“Forgive me, madam, but I believe your valise is ready. Come, allow me to escort you.”
On the way out, they walked past the Lyorn clerk, whose mouth had not yet managed to close, and to whom Khaavren remarked, “Perhaps I will see you soon about an advance in pay,” to which the clerk could find no response. The servant closed the door behind them. As they left, Khaavren and Bellor walking together as if they were old friends, and the servant trailing behind with the valise, the Tiassa said, “I have the authority and the freedom, madam, to take any reasonable route to our destination, which is, of course, the Iorich Wing. Since I have this freedom, why, I give it to you. Have you a preference?”
“A preference?” said Bellor. “Why should I have a preference?”
“Well, you perceive that you are arrested.”
“Indeed, sir, you have my sword.”
“Exactly. Now some, upon being arrested, prefer that as few people as possible see them. Others, for fear of vanishing without a trace, prefer their arrest to be witnessed by as many as possible. I, having received no orders on the subject, will be happy to guide you in whatever way you wish.”
“You are most courteous.”
Khaavren shrugged.
“Well, the answer to your question is that it matters to me not at all, wherefore you may choose whatever path most pleases you.”
“Very well. In that case, we will take the shortest route. We ought, in that case, to turn here, descending these stairs, which will take us all the way down
to the Blue Corridor, which leads directly to the main floor of the lorich Wing.”
“As you wish, Sir.”
Khaavren had, by one route or another, arrived at the Imperial Prisons beneath the lorich Wing perhaps a hundred times, yet on each occasion he was reminded of the first, when he came as a prisoner rather than a captor. This memory awakened several emotions within our Tiassa: a certain irrepressible fear of confinement; a sad longing for the simple love he had felt for Illista, who had proved herself false within these very walls; and a certain pleasure as he recalled the triumph which had followed on the very heels, as it were, of his disgrace.
None of these thoughts, be it understood, caused Khaavren to hesitate in the least in carrying out his duties. He said nothing as he led the way, until Bellor herself, who had appeared deep in thought for some time, broke the silence, saying, “Captain, did His Majesty say anything to you which might give me a clue as to why he has ordered my arrest?”
“No, madam, I must confess that he did not even speak to me on the matter, but he merely gave me the order through the hand of a servant.”
“Would you like to know why I have been arrested? For I believe that, after thinking about it for some moments, I could tell you.”
“If you wish to tell me, well, I will be happy to listen.”
“I do wish to tell you, for I have no one else to tell, and, moreover, because you are someone who may be able to act on the information I am about to impart.”
“In that case, madam, I assure you that you have my entire attention.”
“That is well. This is it, then: His Majesty has ordered my arrest because I have failed to provide a proper account of the state of the Imperial Treasury.”
“I see.”
“It seems reasonable, don’t you think?”
“Madame, I must take your word for it, for none of these matters fall within my province.”
“I give you my word, it is reasonable.”
“Very well.”
“Only—”
“Only?”
“Only the reason I have been unable to provide these accounts, is because, as I have explained, my best intendant has been killed.”
“Yes, you said that Intendant Smaller was killed.”
“The very man.”
“Well, go on.”
“I have been thinking about this matter, trying to understand.”
“What is it that is puzzling you? For you perceive that I wish to know.”
“I have been trying to understand why anyone would wish to kill Smaller, who was, by all accounts, an inoffensive man, and entirely devoted to his duties.”
“Ah. And have you a theory?”
“I do indeed.”
“Well, I am listening.”
“I will tell you then. I believe he was killed in order to precipitate my arrest.”
“How, you think so?”
“Splinters, can you doubt it?” said the Countess. “For, within days after his murder, here I am, arrested!”
“Then you believe,” said Khaavren, “that the object of murdering Smaller was to manage your arrest and removal as Superintendent of Finance?”
“That is exactly my belief.”
“Hmmm,” said Khaavren. “It is possible.” Khaavren allowed no trace of his opinion of this theory to appear on his countenance; he merely nodded somberly and encouraged his prisoner to continue speaking.
“And of course, the only reason to arrest me, is to throw the treasury, and hence, the Empire, into confusion.”
Khaavren reflected that the murder of the intendant had accomplished that, and that the arrest of the Countess made no difference whatsoever, but he merely said, “That is, of a certainty, an interesting thought.”
“And a true one, I am convinced of it.”
“You may be right,” said Khaavren.
“Good Captain, you must explain this to His Majesty.”
“Hmmm,” said Khaavren.
“It is not for myself I fear, but for him. Perhaps you can find the names of those who are behind this conspiracy against me—that is to say, against His Majesty—and what they plan to do.”
“Indeed,” said Khaavren. “I will consider carefully all that you have told me. But for the moment, we are now arrived at the prison, and I must leave you in the care of this gentleman, who will see to your comfort while you are his guest.”
Bellor turned her eyes to the jailer, an lorich named Guinn with whom Khaavren had had numerous dealings in the past. Guinn bowed politely, and, after signing the paper Khaavren presented to him, turned his attention to the Countess. Khaavren bowed and took himself hastily away from the lorich Wing, and retraced his steps to the Imperial Wing with the intention of
interrupting His Majesty, who was presumably engaged in his evening toilet, and of reporting to His Majesty on the results of the commission.
As he walked, he considered what the Superintendent had told him. “Certainly, from all evidence, there is no reason to conspire against
her
. Yet there is this much truth in what she says—the murder of Smaller must, indeed, be part of something bigger. And, the more I think about it, the more worried I become.
“Ah, Khaavren, this is a matter of the security of the Empire, and that is exactly your province! You must discover who is doing what, and why, and you must waste no time.
“But how to do it? Well, there is a clear answer to that: When there is a war, one finds a Dragon; when there is corruption, one goes to a Jhereg; and when there are conspiracies afoot, one goes to a Yendi—and there is a Yendi I claim as a friend. I will unburden myself to him, telling him all I know and suspect, and I will listen to his advice. So, as soon as I have reported to His Majesty, I will discover his quarters and return the call of courtesy with which he honored me just a few days ago. Ah! And here we are already at the Imperial Wing. Let us finish this business as quickly as possible, and so on to other, more important issues.”
Yet, as Khaavren set foot into the Hall of Duchies, where those of the court often gathered for conversation after Their Majesties had retired, he realized that something unusual had happened or was happening. The entire court, or as much of it as was gathered in the Hall of Duchies, which seemed to Khaavren to be a great deal of it, was in an uproar of scandalized courtiers, frustrated ministers, and baffled guardsmen.
Khaavren frowned, touched his sword, and strode forward into the hall to discover the reason behind the excitement and commotion.
Which Treats of the Transformation
That the Duke of Galstan Undergoes,
And the Return of Our Old Friend Pel.
 
 
 
K
HAAVREN, AS WE HAVE SAID, entered the Hall of Duchies with the intention of learning what had caused the commotion and disturbance so apparent therein. Some of the guardsmen knew some of what had happened, and some of the courtiers knew more; the process of putting the story together from these pieces took Khaavren some twenty or thirty minutes. The reader will be glad to know that he will be saved this time; some of the value in reading history must lie in the ability of the historian to quickly summarize events that took the participants hours, days, or even years to understand; in fact, it is as much in efficiency—that is, in the saving of the reader’s valuable time, as it is in the drawing of lessons and conclusions, that the value of written history lies.
Khaavren, upon seeing the commotion, had at first assumed that either Bellor had more friends than he had thought, or that some aspect of the arrest had been remarked upon as unusual or disturbing; he was as surprised as, perhaps, the reader is to learn that this uproar had nothing (or, at any rate, nothing directly) to do with the dismissal of the Superintendent of Finance, but rather followed a drastic breach of etiquette on the part of Aliera e’Kieron, who had demanded to see His Majesty while His Majesty was concluding his evening rounds. To be more precise, we will say that, at a certain time, Aliera had entered the Palace through the Dragon Wing, passed the Warlord’s quarters without even acknowledging a challenge (Khaavren, if he had time, would no doubt have words for those who let her through!), and, after demanding answers of certain courtiers who ought not to have supplied them, discovered that His Majesty could be found, at this hour, walking through the Hall of Ballads, escorted by Corporal Thack, in lieu of Khaavren, whose duty this normally was, and the Lady Ingera, Lord of the Keys. Some of these courtiers were even indiscreet (or, perhaps, mischievous) enough to tell her how to find this hall in the labyrinthine Imperial Wing. By all accounts, when
she arrived she burst into the hall just as His Majesty was commanding that it be locked; in fact, Aliera very nearly overturned Ingera, who was at the point of inserting the key into the lock when Aliera made her spectacular and unseemly entrance.
Thack, for his part, though startled, noticed at once that Aliera had a sword at her side, and knew very well that this was not allowed in the presence of His Majesty, wherefore he interposed himself between Aliera and the Emperor and drew his own sword, taking on his most threatening aspect. Aliera appeared quite unconcerned; she merely unbuckled her sword belt and offhandedly tossed it to Thack, while saying, “I beg leave, Sire, to have speech with Your Majesty,” in a tone quite in conflict with her well-chosen words, but entirely in accord with the time and manner of her arrival.
Lady Ingera recovered her dignity, Thack stared at the sword-belt which appeared to have suddenly grown from his left hand, and His Majesty stared down at Aliera (who, the reader ought to recall, was exceptionally short) as if he couldn’t quite think what sort of beast she was, but knew that it was one he’d seen before.
At last he said, “This is hardly the time for speech. Should you return to-morrow—”
“Sire, a most urgent matter has come to my attention, wherefore I humbly crave a moment of your time.” Need we add that, even now, the tone of her voice and the attitude of her person made a marked contrast to her words? Need we add that the Orb, which, upon her entrance, had flashed to a startled white, was now turning red, and becoming ever darker?
Nevertheless, His Majesty, matching Aliera’s angry gaze, said, “Well, then, if the matter is so urgent, you may speak of it,” in a tone that said plainly, “It will go hard with you if you haven’t sufficient cause for this outrage.”
“Sire, it has not been an hour since, in accordance with Your Majesty’s orders, my quarters were entered and one of my possessions taken.”
The Emperor’s face darkened and he bit his lip. “Impossible,” said His Majesty.
“How, impossible? You say—”
“I say that nothing has been removed from your room that could possibly be your possession.”
Aliera’s eyes narrowed. “Would Your Majesty do me the honor to explain? For I confess that I am entirely bewildered.” The reader ought to understand that these words, like the others which issued from her lips, were, if we may be permitted to use the expression, bitten off—that is, each was pronounced carefully and precisely, conveying, by tone, Aliera’s exasperation as the words themselves conveyed her unfailing courtesy.
“I will more than explain!” cried the Emperor. “I will tell you exactly what has been removed from your chambers, and why.”
“I ask for nothing better.”
“What was taken was an object of pre-Empire sorcery. Do you understand me, Lady Aliera e’Kieron? An object of the sort that has been forbidden since the creation of the Orb itself!”
“Which is odd,” remarked Aliera, “when one considers how the Orb was made. Nevertheless, Sire, I must protest—”
“You protest?
You
protest? You
protest?
”
“Indeed, Sire. But only once.”
“Possession of such an object is punishable by death!”
“Is it, Sire?” said Aliera, in a tone of cool inquiry. “But what is the punishment for violating the privacy of a lady’s chamber?”
“I think you do yourself the honor of questioning me!”
“Do I commit an impertinence, Sire?”
“An impertinence? I nearly think you do!”
“Well, but how does my impertinence in questioning Your Majesty compare to Your Majesty’s impertinence in causing your guardsmen to enter my private chambers and conduct a search of my possessions?”
“You dare accuse me—
me,
of impertinence?”
Aliera looked at him coldly, and, though she was considerably shorter than he, seemed almost to be looking down at him. “The Orb and the Throne, Sire, are given when one becomes Emperor. Stewardship of the Empire must be earned.” With this comment, she bowed, took several steps backward, and recovered her weapon from Thack, who still held it as he watched, dumbfounded. Then she turned and made her way out of the Hall of Ballads.
This was what had occurred, and was what Khaavren learned as he listened to and pieced together different stories and rumors from those assembled in the Hall of Duchies. When he understood enough, he paused and consulted with himself. “I must now,” he said, “come to a decision. If I return home, or to my offices, there will, without doubt, be a message for me to find His Majesty, who will then order me to arrest Aliera, who is not a Superintendent, and is not, furthermore, someone I have any desire to arrest, as she is the daughter of someone I do myself the honor to consider a friend. If, instead, I continue with my plan and go to visit Pel, then I will avoid this order at least long enough for Aliera to have a good start on me. No one would accuse me of neglecting my duty when I had no duty to neglect—I am, after all, on my own time, now that the hour at which His Majesty retires is at hand.”
Then he sighed. “I would, however, accuse myself. No, Khaavren, you cannot escape so easily. Your conscience will follow you, and it will whisper in
your ear, and it will disturb that sleep which you value so highly, and cast a pall over that discourse with your friends, and especially with the noble Aerich, that you take such joy in. No, His Majesty wants me to arrest Aliera, of this there can be no doubt. Therefore, I will be as good a servant as I can, and I will seek him out in his chambers. If he has retired for the night, and left me no message—well, so much the better. If, as I suspect, he has left orders, or, more probably, he is waiting up to give them to me, then I will carry out those orders with as much dispatch as if I were arresting a Teckla or an Easterner or a Superintendent of Finance.”
Having reached this decision, Khaavren made his way at once to His Majesty’s bedchamber. The two guardsmen on duty informed him that His Majesty had only lately retired, and was, in all probability, still awake; an opinion Khaavren confirmed after passing into the antechamber by noticing the light which leaked out beneath the door of the bedroom. He positioned himself in front of this door and clapped sharply.
“Who is there?” called His Majesty.
“Khaavren.”
“Ah, ah! My Captain of the Guard! Please come in, my dear Khaavren, for I desire nothing more than speech with you.”
“I am hardly surprised,” said Khaavren under his breath. He entered the room and bent his knee to the Emperor, saying, “Sire, I am here to report on the commission you have given me.”
“Yes, exactly. Did the matter go off well?”
“Entirely, Sire. Countess Bellor is now confined in the lorich Wing. Here, Sire, is the receipt I had of Guinn.”
The Emperor took the receipt, read it, and nodded. “So much the better,” he said. “Did she have aught to say?”
“Oh, Sire, she said one thing and another, as prisoners will on their way to prison.”
“Ah, she protested her innocence?”
“Precisely.”
“And claimed a conspiracy against her?”
“Exactly.”
“And even against me?”
“Just so.”
The Emperor smiled. “Well, you and I know of such things, do we not, Captain? Bellor was not the first to be arrested, nor shall she be the last.”
“Now we come to it,” thought Khaavren, but he only bowed to acknowledge His Majesty’s words.
“Well,” said His Majesty. “Is that all?”
“That is all, Sire.”
“Very well.”
“Sire?”
“I said, very well. If that is all, you may go, and I will see you in the morning.”
“I—”
“Yes?”
“There is nothing else, Sire?”
His Majesty frowned. “Something else? What do you mean?”
“Your Majesty has no other orders for me?”
“Why no, Captain. There are no other orders.”
Khaavren bit his lip, trying to keep the surprise from his features. “Nothing at all, Sire?”
“Why no. Is there something you expected?”
“That is to say … not in the least, Sire. I was simply making certain nothing had been overlooked.”
“Nothing of which I am aware.”
“Very well, Sire. I shall see Your Majesty in the morning.”
“Yes. Sleep well, Captain.”
“And may Your Majesty do the same.”
Khaavren made a courtesy, and left the Emperor’s chambers, puzzled. Not only had there been no order to arrest Aliera, but there was no trace of ill-humor on His Majesty’s countenance. Had he, Khaavren, been misinformed? He considered the sources of his information and decided this was unlikely. So what could it be? Had something else happened? Was some part of someone’s plan working, even now?
If so, there was one man who knew how to unravel such schemes, and there was no time to lose before finding him. Khaavren, without further delay, went back down to the main level of the Palace, out through the Silver Door, and so into the Painted Tunnel, which led to the Athyra Wing. Once there, he had three times to ask directions through the dark and twisted corridors of the Wing, until at last he emerged into a section of the third floor of the Palace, where a woman, seated on a plain, three-legged stool, guarded an entryway (or, at any rate, seemed to guard it, though she had no weapon) into what seemed an unlit corridor. Here Khaavren stopped and said, “Is this the Academy of Discretion?”
“It is, My Lord. May I be of service to you?”
“I hope so. I am looking for the Duke of Galstan.”
The woman, whose features could barely be seen beneath the hood, raised her eyebrows and said, “My Lord? You wish to see him at this hour?”
“I am Khaavren, Captain of the Imperial Guard, and I assure you that my business will not wait.”
The woman frowned and said, “Please have the kindness to wait here. I will inquire.”
“I will not move from this spot,” said Khaavren.
She disappeared back into the darkness of the hall. As her footsteps faded, it seemed to Khaavren that silence had descended on the entire Palace, as if there were no other living person within it. He shivered, though he was not cold.
Although the wait seemed long to Khaavren, it was, in fact, only five or ten minutes before she returned, appearing from the darkness as suddenly as she had vanished into it. She said, “He will be down directly, My Lord. If you wish, you may come with me to a place where you can sit while you await him.”
Khaavren looked into the gloomy corridor and said, “I will wait here.”
“As you wish.”
Khaavren passed several more minutes alone—we say
alone
because the woman, after seating herself on the stool where we and Khaavren first found her, fell silent and motionless, so that it seemed to Khaavren his only company was a statue, and a statue less lifelike than many of the sculptures that adorned the Hall of Ballads which had, earlier that evening, been the scene of the very events which so mystified him now. Eventually, however, he heard soft footsteps and Pel appeared in the same robes he had worn when he had paid his visit to Khaavren, only in this place the apparel seemed entirely congruous with the surroundings. Khaavren was able to see that the Yendi was smiling within his hood. Pel took Khaavren by the arm and escorted him some forty or fifty feet away from the dark corridor and out of earshot of the lady who stood guard.
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