The reader, no doubt, is impatient to discover what has become of Livosha in the hundreds of years that have elapsed since we last saw her. Her intention, the reader may recall, was to travel to Candletown along with her brother, and, submitting to the need once more to cast our eye on an earlier time than that which we have lately been discussing, we may say that in this she was entirely successful. She had no trouble finding a hostel not far from the pier and, still having some money left, selected one that was clean and well-appointed and had the name, “Fishwives” after a sign showing several fish in the traditional gold winglets of the bride. She left Kefaan there to rest while she procured clothing more appropriate to a lady’s maid than what she had been traveling in, after which she returned to the inn herself.
The next morning she caused a bath to be delivered, cleaned the dust of travel from herself, and dressed herself in the outfit she had selected: a simple but elegant ankle-length tan dress with a thin white belt, a hint of white flounces, and only slightly raised shoulders. She then inquired at the inn after transportation, whereupon the hostess caused a carriage to be summoned. She paid for the carriage for the day and instructed the coachman to drive her to the estate of Lady Ficora, which proved to be in a hilly part of town distinguished by graceful trees, wide avenues, and large manors, all of which were enclosed, as if by rigid custom, in tall, black iron fences set in stone.
Having at last arrived, the carriage stood in front of the gate for some few moments, until Livosha noticed a rope hanging next to the gate and traced it back to the house by means of certain tall poles driven into the rock-covered ground next to the path. She left the carriage, gave the rope a good pull, and waited.
Presently a man came out, riding toward them on the long, gently curving road from the manor to the gate in a small, elegant chaise pulled by a single white horse. He seemed to be a Teckla of middle years, his clothing well cut in the red and silver of the Tsalmoth. He stepped out of the carriage and, looking at Livosha, gave her an exact bow.
“My good lady, I am Biska, servant to her ladyship the Countess of Ficora. How may I serve you on this day?”
Livosha bowed her head and, speaking through the gate, said, “I have a message for her ladyship from her cousin in Aussiar.”
“A message from her cousin,” said the Teckla somberly, “will no doubt be well received.”
“So much the better. Then be so good as to deliver this to her ladyship.”
“Of course, my lady. I will carry out at once this commission you do me the honor to give me. Would you care to come into our home while awaiting a reply?”
“Nothing would please me more,” she said. She turned to the coachman, handed him a few more coins, and bid him wait, which he promptly agreed to, the more readily as he had, the reader may recall, already been hired for the entire day. The Teckla assisted Livosha into the chaise and drove back to the front door of the estate. Once there, he helped her down, then led the way into the manor, and so into a waiting room.
In due course, she was summoned to see Ficora, who appeared to be a woman just beyond middle years, with a pinched face and an expression on her countenance in which annoyance warred with self-righteousness. Livosha gave her a courtesy to which Ficora responded with a nod, and did not offer Livosha a chair.
“So, then, you have a letter from my worthless nephew.”
Livosha was uncertain how to respond to this, both because it would be rude to disagree while simultaneously being rude to aver the worthlessness of a nephew to an aunt; but, even more, because the phrasing left Livosha uncertain whether Ficora had made a statement or asked a question. The Iorich therefore contented herself with bowing, which, to judge by the sniff the Tslalmoth made, appeared to answer.
“Do you know,” Ficora continued, “that this insolent boy writes to me once a year begging for assistance? He pretends to be unhappy working for a man he calls a ‘tyrant’ and tells of fourteen hour work days, of being forced to leave his flat when his wages were reduced, and similar nonsense, as if I had nothing better to do with my time than worry about him. If his mother, my sister, were still alive, I’d give her a basket of words, I assure you. Discontentment with one’s place has never led to happiness, nor has begging. I despise beggars. Don’t you?”
“My lady,” said Livosha, bowing again and hoping it would do as a reply.
We trust the reader need not hear of the interview in all of its details; it was drawn out and thorough, and Livosha was required to swallow her pride and refrain from observing that the Iorich was, in fact, higher on the Cycle than the Tsalmoth—meaning, of course, that Livosha’s status ought to be higher than Ficora’s, a circumstance that appeared not to matter in the least to the countess. In the end, Livosha was able to secure employment sufficient to provide for herself and her brother at the cost of some hours—and then years—of humiliation. Should the reader have never faced circumstances where one must swallow one’s pride, the historian congratulates the reader on having such fortune, for it is well known that no one is exempt from facing these circumstances. Indeed, even in the fair halls of the academy, it is not impossible to find one’s self in a position where one must watch an inferior colleague—indeed, a colleague who treats the entire study of history with no more respect than an illiterate peasant treats books, who invents theories to suit his fancies and then gathers half-researched facts to support them, who, rather than seeking to understand historical law, sees history as only the working out of the dream of a preposterously personified “fate,” who treats the incidents of history as a traveler treats the grains of sand in a desert, as if each one were as important or unimportant as any other—where one must watch such a colleague, we say, receive positions and honors (and, of course, the associated lecture tours) properly the due of serious historians, merely because of gossip and rumor concerning one’s personal life that, even if true, could have no effect on the quality of one’s work.
We mention such circumstances, the reader may be assured, only to show that we understand how trying it must have been to Livosha and, moreover, to warn the reader (for a study of the past that provides no material to guide the future is necessarily without merit, whatever the opinions to the contrary certain supposed scholars may propound from the high positions they accidentally occupy) that such humiliations as these are an inevitable part of life, and when faced with this sort of experience, one ought to carry on bravely, doing one’s work, and never permit one’s self to become bitter or resentful.
Certainly this is how Livosha carried herself. It may be that the reader wishes to hear the details of the trials the poor Iorich endured from the countess; if so, we must, with regret, deny the reader that pleasure. It can make no difference to history how often and in what manner Livosha was told what a poor maid she was, nor the tasks she was required to repeat, nor the hours of bitter discourse directed, when not at her, at the other servants, at the local aristocrats (those in the lower orders of society, of course, were rarely discussed, and then only in terms of contempt and dismissal), at her House, at the other Houses, and at society at large. It is sufficient, in the opinion of the historian, that these things occurred, and that Livosha endured them.
She and Kefaan found lodgings in the Meethra district, not far from the market area and an easy walk from the Hillside (the name, as she learned, of the area where Ficora lived) and she at once went to work. The countess for whom she worked, as the reader may perceive, was no more agreeable than the one who had interviewed her, a natural circumstance as they were the same person; yet Livosha accepted the harsh and unreasonable demands placed upon her with a graceful calm, like a scholar who is only devoted to his studies and cares little for accolades. In the morning and in the evening she continued to train in swordsmanship, convinced that, sooner or later, there would be an accounting, and she wished to be ready. At first she hired tutors for Kefaan, but she quickly discovered that he had no interest in learning, and with her duties, she hadn’t sufficient attention to spare him to even attempt to correct this deficiency. Far from attempting to discover how he was spending his days, she, it must be admitted, made an effort not to speculate. The reader may judge her harshly for this, but the reader ought to remember that she was scarcely older than he was, that as a sister she had no parental authority, and that with the effort it took her to, first, please the countess, second, continue her training in arms, and, third, resist a constant desire to test the second upon the first, she would have been unable to attend to him save by surrendering the notion of sleeping, a solution which is, as no doubt the reader knows, impossible to carry out over any significant length of time. That he returned in the evening and was still there when she left in the morning was all that she wanted to know.
Livosha continued in this way, then, and, as with Eremit on the other side of the world, the days turned into months, and the months into years. Livosha had learned so much that her sword master could no longer effectively teach her, and so she hired another. At around this same time, Kefaan began showing up with small amounts of money, which he would silently hand to Livosha as if challenging her to ask where it came from, a challenge she declined.
Over the next few years, however, as he began supplying even more money, her curiosity began to war with her fear of hearing an answer she wouldn’t like. Their relationship had changed, of course: the difference between the age of one hundred and the age of sixty is far greater than the difference between the age of two hundred and the age of one hundred and forty, and yet another hundred years brings them even closer together. They were on a more equal footing now, and any notions either of them had once had of Livosha taking care of her brother had long vanished. And so it was that she returned home from a day on which she had been brushing the countess’s hair now too hard, now too soft; on which the tea was too hot and took too long to arrive; on which her clothing was laid out in such a way as to surely wrinkle; on which any girl plucked off the street in Dripping Alley would do better.
She came home, made herself tea into which she poured a small quantity of oishka. She removed her shoes and had just had a sip when Kefaan came in, bowed to her, and handed her a purse.
“This is tolerably heavy,” she said.
He shrugged. “Well.”
“Where did it come from?”
“You are asking me that?”
“I am.”
“You truly wish to know?”
“Yes. And the proof is, I have asked.”
“That is true, and yet—”
“Well?”
“I had thought this was something you would have preferred not to know.”
“And so it has been, my dear brother. But now I wish to. You perceive, things change.”
“Very well, I accept that things change.”
“And so?”
“I will tell you. But—”
“Yes, but?”
“But not to-day. I will tell you to-morrow.”
“Why to-morrow?”
“Because you are tired, and you wish to drink tea which, if my nose does not deceive me, has been flavored with oishka.”
“You are not wrong about that.”
“Whereas to-morrow is Endweek, when you are permitted to leave early, and when we habitually visit the market.”
“That is true. And then?”
“While we visit the market, I will answer your questions in full.”
“But why wait until we visit the market?”
“That, also, you will learn to-morrow.”
“Very well, it seems I must accept it.”
“That would be best, believe me.”
The next day, as agreed, they went to the market together, each with a basket. The market at Meethra was one of the largest in Candletown, being located between the pier and Farmer’s Gate (which would have been an excellent name, as it was the road by which most farmers entered Candletown, if there had, in fact, been a gate there). The market, we should say, though most busy on Marketday, had custom all five days, only closing down for a few hours late at night and on certain Imperial holidays.
On this occasion, they walked past the stores, wagons, tents, carts, and tables where they were most accustomed to shop. Livosha, content to let Kefaan take the lead, matched her pace to his, which was in the nature of a stroll or even an amble. In this fashion, they went most of the way around the large circle that made up the bulk of the market and was where the most prosperous merchants had, by one means or another, secured a spot. A few “streets” (they were known by this term, though they were, in fact, mere pathways or aisles, some of them not even fully paved) went off to the side, making the market in some measure resemble a wheel that had been designed with a peculiar number of spokes of different lengths and placed at odd intervals. It was one of these they took. The reader must understand we cannot give the name of this street for the simplest of reasons: it had none. When some traveler would ask after a merchant known to be along this street, the directions involved pointing and saying, “that one,” or, perhaps, “the street by the man selling brightly colored yarn.” However, as Kefaan knew where he was going, proved by the lack of hesitation in his stride, this problem did not arise in this case.
After some few moments, they came to a peculiar sort of merchant—peculiar in that he appeared to have nothing to sell. There was a thin metal table, cunningly crafted so that it could be folded up and moved, and behind it was a wooden stool on which sat a broad-shouldered, large-headed man with short, neat hair, wearing the black and gray of the House of the Jhereg. Seeing him and, moreover, seeing Kefaan approach him, Livosha’s heart sank as she prepared to have all of her worst fears realized.
The Jhereg nodded to Kefaan, looked at Livosha, and permitted (or, perhaps, caused, it is unclear precisely how deliberate such an action is in certain cases) his eyebrows to climb, indicating either surprise or curiosity, presumably at Kefaan appearing in the company of someone he didn’t know.
“Tigra,” he said. “This is my sister, Livosha. Livosha, meet Tigra, a friend.”
“Friend,” echoed Livosha doubtfully.
“Ah,” said the Jhereg, rising and bowing. “Your sister. Well, it is an honor, my lady.”
Livosha, shocked into courtesy, returned the salute.
“Have you anything for me?” asked Kefaan coolly, as if the question were the most natural in the world.
“There is nothing now, for you perceive we are not accustomed to seeing you until Marketday.”
“Yes, I understand that.”
“Perhaps, however, as the evening comes on. There have been rumors.”
“Ah, rumors!”
The Jhereg nodded. “There might be a dispute between Fith and Nirin.”
“I beg your pardon, but I think you mean, another dispute.”
“I accept this correction. Should this be the case, of course, it is in everyone’s interest for it to be settled quickly and without any unpleasantness.”
“I understand that.”
“And so?”
“And so, my friend, I will return at a later time.”
“Until then, my friend. Lady Livosha, it was a pleasure.” He bowed once more as Kefaan led his sister away.
“And so,” remarked the young man. “That is where the money is coming from.”
“A Jhereg!”
“Ah, you noticed that?”
“Nearly.”
“And then?”
“But, my brother, what are you doing for him?”
As they returned to the main part of the market, Kefaan gestured around them. “All of these wagons, tables, tents, and permanent structures, do you see them?”
“What of them?”
“They are not given free of charge.”
“Well, I had not thought they were.”
“The city, you perceive, demands compensation based on an ingenious formula involving the amount of space taken up on the road, for which they have a marvelous term, that being frontage. Is it not clever? A special word that means only ‘amount of street, measured in feet, that is used for a temporary business.’”
“Very well, I accept that there is such a word. And then?”
“Well, but that is not the only charge.”
“How, it is not?”
“No. My friend Tigra also collects from them, using his own system, which is not nearly so complex.”
“This makes me curious about many things: the system he uses, why is he paid, how he collects, and what your role is in all of this.”
“Those are astute questions, my sister, and I will not hesitate to answer them.”
“Then I am listening.”
“To go in the proper order—for sequence is always a vital aspect in any disquisition—”
“Oh, I entirely agree!”
“—I will begin with the matter of the service for which Tigra accepts payment.”
“That is not the sequence you did me the honor to list above, nevertheless, I am listening. The service. And that is?”
“To prevent such unfortunate incidents as fires, beatings, robberies.”
“But, cannot the City Guard protect against such things?”
“Not from Tigra.”
“You mean he would do them himself?”
“Certainly, if not paid.”
“But that is illegal!”
“Nearly.”
“And the City Guard?”
“He pays them.”
“That is bribery!”
“Without doubt, ‘bribery’ is a word that can be used for such an activity.”
“But, what is another?”
“Custom.”
“Well, but—”
“Come, my sister. Let us not dispute over words. You wished to know the system he uses?”
“I do.”
“He has determined, by his own methods, which locations are the best, and charges more for those.”
“I agree that it is simple.”
“So much the better. And the way he collects is the easiest matter of them all: he has certain persons who work for him, some of the House of the Jhereg, others of the House of the Orca, who, once a week, pass from one to the other and accept such contributions as have been agreed upon.” We must remark here, in passing, that while the prejudice against the House of the Jhereg—that is, the assumption that they are a House of criminals—is false, as most Jhereg are merely landlords, was as false then as it is to-day. Still it cannot be denied that nearly all of this sort of crime involving organized groups was, then as now, carried out by those who were Jhereg.
Livosha, then, after listening to her brother, said, “And should one refuse to pay?”
“Ah, that has never happened. For, you perceive, it is believed to be bad luck.”
“Bad luck?”
“Of the worst kind. And last, you asked after my role in the entire matter.”
“I did ask that, and yet—”
“Well, and yet?”
“I am no longer certain I wish to know.”
“As to that, well, I will not attempt to convince you either way. You must choose, and I will accept your choice.”
“You are very complaisant, my brother.”
“I try to be, my sister.”
“Very well, then. Tell me.”
“Since you ask, I will.”
“Then I am listening.”
“Here it is: At certain times, arguments and disputes will occur among the various merchants. One might pretend that the angle of another’s table interferes with traffic that would be going to him, or that a certain individual is ‘hawking,’ that is, calling out to bring in business, in such a tone as to drive another’s customers away, or that the smell of the droppings from one’s horse interfere with the aromatic qualities of nearby flowers, or that a single man on a chair making certain items has permitted his tools and supplies to overflow his allotted area.”
“Very well, I understand there can be disputes. And then?”
“It used to be that such matters were brought to Tigra to be settled. It happened, however, that Tigra had little skill, and took less pleasure, in finding equitable ways to settle these matters, with the result that it often cost him in both silver and in less tangible coin, that is to say, in annoyance. Upon observing this phenomenon, I one day offered my services as adjudicator, saying that I would, without charge, speak to those involved, and if I were able to settle the matter peacefully, well, I would then ask him to pay me whatever he might think it worth. As it would cost him nothing if I failed, he readily agreed, and was so pleased with the result that he gave me a silver orb. After that, I began doing so on a regular basis as matters came up, for I discovered I have a talent for helping individuals come to see the justice in another’s position, which, as you are aware, is the first step in finding a compromise.”
Livosha was quiet for a moment after hearing this. Then she said, “But, you perceive, you have allied yourself with a criminal organization.”
“Certainly,” said Kefaan.
“And you have done this for money?”
“Not the least in the world.”
“How, it was not for money?”
“Oh, I do not mind money. On the contrary, it is easier to get along with it than without it. Yet, I should not have associated myself with criminals merely to be paid.”
“I am glad of that. Only—”
“Yes?”
“It brings up a question.”
“Oh, I do not doubt that. In fact, my dear sister, I believe I can guess the very question you wish to ask.”
“I am certain you can and do not doubt you, my brother.”
“You wish to know: if it was not for money, then why have I done so?”
“You have guessed exactly.”
“And you wish me to answer?”
“I should like it of all things.”
“This is it, then. For friendship.”
Nothing he could have said would have astounded her more. “How, for friendship?”
“Exactly.”
“But then, you have done this because that Jhereg, whom you had never met, was a friend?”
“Oh, no. Not in the least. You misunderstand me entirely. It was not because he was a friend.”
“Well, and then?”
“It was because I wished him to become a friend.”
“But why could the friendship of this Jhereg matter to you?”
“Because I have gained certain benefits from it, and I expect to gain yet more.”
“But to what benefits can you be referring?”
“Ah, you wish to know that?”
“I nearly think I do!”
“Well, in the first place, I now know people, or, to be more precise, know people who know people who are able to discover things.”
“You say ‘things.’”
“And if I do?”
“The word is not precise, and you know I believe in precision.”
“Then you wish to know what sort of things?”
“That is exactly what I wish.”
“Then I will tell you.”
“I am listening.”
“For the most part, whatever I wish to know.”
“But, what do you wish to know? And about whom?”
“About whom, my dear sister, I think you can guess.”
“Ah! You mean Berwick!”
“Yes, Berwick. And—”
“Dorin.”
“Exactly.”
“But what have you discovered?”
“I have only begun my researches, but I can tell you that they are living well on our lands and have become wealthy. They managed, somehow, to forge your signature on documents, making it look as if we had sold them our lands, and so had Baroness Sudora, poor Eremit’s mother. So much so that Berwick is attempting to have his barony raised to a county, and Dorin wants nothing less than a dukedom.”
“And will they get these things?”
“Such matters take time, but it seems likely.”
Livosha looked down to hide the rage she felt building up inside of her and that she was certain would be apparent on her countenance.
“My sister, you are trembling,” said Kefaan.
“Well.”
“You perceive, my goal has not changed.”
“I understand that it has not.”
“And?”
“I agree with your goal. While there are aspects to your methods I dislike, still, I recognize the utility. Moreover,” she added, lifting her head and managing a small smile, “the additional money is, in all honesty, not unwelcome.”
Kefaan embraced her warmly and said, “Lest you worry, I will also tell you this: in order to bring any sort of charge against me, the Empire would be required to dig far into the laws on abetting criminal enterprises, which are notoriously poorly written and thus easily defeated by a clever advocate and, moreover, not as a rule worth the expense to prosecute, even if, by some unlikely chance, Tigra should come under investigation.”
“Well, that does make me feel better.”
“I am glad that it does. And there is more I have learned.”
“Well?”
“Your Countess, Lady Ficora.”
“What of her?”
“Has it not seemed odd to you that she, a Tsalmoth, has managed to retain her wealth and position while her House is so low on the Cycle?”
“In fact, I had remarked upon this very phenomenon.”
“And to what did you attribute it?”
“Great good fortune.”
“Well, but some believe that it is exactly the Cycle that determines our fortune, good and bad. If so, then the answer has not only failed to answer the question but, on the contrary, has only asked it again using other words.”
“Well, but then, what is your answer?”
“What do you know of Elde Island?”
“What everyone knows, my brother: that it lies a few scant miles to the south of Ridgly, and there is trade between its king and the Empire.”
“And has it ever seemed odd that it has never been conquered?”
“I had not considered it.”
“Consider it, I beg.”
“Well, I am considering it.”
“And?”
“I do not know.”
“Most do not, it is not something widely spoken of.”
“Well, but you know?”
“It is something I have learned.”
“And that is?”
“That Elde is home to a large tribe of Serioli.”
“Well, and then?”
“And this tribe has preserved the art of crafting weapons able to destroy the soul of those they pierce.”
“I know of these weapons, of course, though had not where that they were still being crafted. What do you tell me?”
“It is true. The process takes years for each weapon, but they have accumulated enough of them over the Millennia that the Empire is not anxious to attack.”
“Well, but what has this to do with Lady Ficora?”
“Attend me. These weapons, called Morganti, are illegal.”
“I think so! Mere possession carries a death sentence!”
“And yet, they are highly prized among the Jhereg.”
“And then?”
“And so, as when anything is highly prized but illegal, a secret trade occurs.”
“Ah, you have learned this from your Jhereg associates.”
“Well.”
“Go on, there is a secret trade in Morganti weapons.” Livosha could not repress a shudder as she spoke these words but continued listening.
“Such a trade cannot occur in Ridgly, because the fifty miles between it and Elde are too rigorously patrolled.”
“And so?”
“And so it remained for someone with sufficient determination to find a new route for them, something the Empire would not have expected. A long, circuitous sea route from the far side of Elde all the way past the Imperial navy to—”
“Candletown!”
“Exactly.”
“Then Lady Ficora—”
“Facilitates these trades, from various innocent merchants, to Elde, and then back to the Jhereg.”
“And yet I have never seen her engage in business.”
“She does not. After having set the trades, she lets others carry them out, and keeps a large portion of the profits.”
Livosha considered this remarkable news for some time, then said, “That is astonishing, without doubt, and yet, how does it help us?”
“Oh, as to that, it does not. But I thought you would wish to know, first, because it tells you something of your employer, and next, because it tells you something of how efficiently my friends can gather information.”
Livosha nodded. “And so, my brother. You have sources of information that have brought us a step closer to our vengeance. And yet, what next?”
“Ah, as to that, well, I don’t know. Information is all very well, and even vital, and yet—”
“And yet,” she finished, “our enemies are powerful, we are not. We have no documents with which to dispute their claims, and no power to attack them.”
“Attack them!” said Kefaan. “So far are we from attacking them, that, well, we must be on our guard at all times, for I have also learned—”
“Yes, you have learned?”
“That they have never stopped seeking us.”
“Shades of the Paths!” cried Livosha. “Then we are in danger?”
“I will not lie, my sister. We are. Between your work for that … that countess, and my spending my time here in the market, it will be hard for them to find us. Nevertheless, they are attempting to.”
“Then we must do something,” said Livosha. “I’ll not wait by as helpless as a Teckla while being hunted by murderous dogs.”
“I agree, only, well, what can we do?”
“As to that,” said Livosha, “I do not know. That is to say,” she amended, “I do not know yet. But I will consider the matter. Apropos—”
“Yes?”
“You have means of gathering certain information.”
“Well, and if I do?”
“Might you be able to discover who it was who forged the signatures on the papers that gave them the claim to our lands?”
“Ah, ah! I had not considered this!”
“Then consider now, I beg you to.”
“I am considering it even as we speak.”
“Well, and?”
“It may be that I can discover this. In any case, I am resolved to try.”
“Good then.”
“And while I do that, what will you do?”
“I? I will be doing two things.”
“Let us see, then. What is the first?”
“The first is, I will be considering all that we know and attempting to discover a plan by which we can overcome our disadvantages and strike those who have so injured us.”
“Very good. And the second?”
“I will re-double the energy with which I practice on the lessons given me by my sword master, in hopes that I will soon have reason to use them.”
“With these plans, I cannot but agree,” said Kefaan. “But as to our immediate goals, permit me, my sister, to suggest something else we might do.”
“Of course, my brother. I will listen with attention to anything you may suggest.”
“This is it, then. It is Endweek, we are at the market, and we have baskets.”
“Well?”
“For now, let us be about our weekly shopping.”
Seeing nothing wrong with this plan as stated, they at once put it into practice.