like smoke. And it still wasn’t enough. So I cleaned and resheathed my swords and closed myself up in my little room and reached for the bottle again.
And again, Triss said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
And he was right. So when I twisted the cork stopper free, I only poured two fingers into my glass and sealed the bottle again. Then I knocked back the whiskey and set the glass aside. My poncho came back out of the trunk and got folded properly on the bed. My hood and shirt, too.
I put my swords neatly away beside my knives and laid the trick bag down on top. That’s when I remembered the letter and my failed courier’s commission. Another in a long string of failures. You’d think I’d be used to them by now, but they never got any easier to face. I reached for the poncho.
“Aren’t you going to take another look at the letter?” asked Triss. “There are stronger measures we might try, more destructive perhaps, but—”
“No.” I laid the poncho down over the bag.
“You know there might be some clue in there about Devin, don’t you?”
“Of course.” I didn’t for a second believe that the near-simultaneous arrival of Devin and me on that balcony was a coincidence. “Maybe after eight or ten hours of sleep, I’ll even care enough to look Maylien up and rake her over the coals about the whole thing, but not tonight.”
Or then again, maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I’d just have a drink or six and forget about the whole thing. I added the hood to the pile in the trunk, then my boots. As I changed pants, I could feel Triss glaring at me, so I took extra time and care in putting the grays away—I’d had all I could take of pushing for one night. He made a little hmmphing noise when I closed the lid, but he didn’t grouse. I reached for the lock . . . and stopped. I just couldn’t do it.
As a Blade, you learn that it’s all right to choose not to act. Choosing not to think is another thing entirely. Though I was no longer a Blade, the lesson remained.
With a sigh I opened the trunk again and retrieved the letter. As Triss had noted, there were things we could do now in regard to exposing its secrets that we couldn’t have when I’d cared about keeping it intact. I was running through some of those in my head when I took a closer look and discovered it was going to be a simpler task than I’d expected. Since I’d last examined the letter, words had appeared on the previously blank space above the seal.
“For Aral Kingslayer, last Blade of fallen Namara.”
Un-fucking-believable. I laughed then, and it was a bitter and black sound like efik left too long a-steeping. I cracked the seal and began to read, with Triss following along over my shoulder. “I seek the redress of Justice,” it began.
After the first few lines, I reached for the whiskey bottle. This time Triss didn’t try to stop me.
4
My day started with pain. Throbbing pain and cruel light and a truly foul taste in my mouth. Nothing I hadn’t experienced before. In fact, I’d been there often enough that I knew better than to open my eyes right away. I groped upward with my left hand, feeling along the top edge of my pallet until I found a plump wineskin.
Keeping my eyes firmly closed, I brought it down and pressed the cool leather against my forehead while I fiddled with the seal. Finally, I very carefully placed the neck in my mouth and took a long pull of small beer. It was bitter and harsh and warm, and it tasted like ambrosia. Good country water would have been better yet, but in a city like Tien, only the crazy and the desperate drank from the wells. Some might have preferred tea, but since I gave up efik, I no longer drink hot drinks. Not if there’s any polite way to avoid it.
I didn’t try to move or open my eyes till I’d downed half the skin. At that point I still felt like week-old shit, but I knew that just lying there wouldn’t help anymore, so I reluctantly cracked an eyelid.
The first
And again, Triss said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
And he was right. So when I twisted the cork stopper free, I only poured two fingers into my glass and sealed the bottle again. Then I knocked back the whiskey and set the glass aside. My poncho came back out of the trunk and got folded properly on the bed. My hood and shirt, too.
I put my swords neatly away beside my knives and laid the trick bag down on top. That’s when I remembered the letter and my failed courier’s commission. Another in a long string of failures. You’d think I’d be used to them by now, but they never got any easier to face. I reached for the poncho.
“Aren’t you going to take another look at the letter?” asked Triss. “There are stronger measures we might try, more destructive perhaps, but—”
“No.” I laid the poncho down over the bag.
“You know there might be some clue in there about Devin, don’t you?”
“Of course.” I didn’t for a second believe that the near-simultaneous arrival of Devin and me on that balcony was a coincidence. “Maybe after eight or ten hours of sleep, I’ll even care enough to look Maylien up and rake her over the coals about the whole thing, but not tonight.”
Or then again, maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I’d just have a drink or six and forget about the whole thing. I added the hood to the pile in the trunk, then my boots. As I changed pants, I could feel Triss glaring at me, so I took extra time and care in putting the grays away—I’d had all I could take of pushing for one night. He made a little hmmphing noise when I closed the lid, but he didn’t grouse. I reached for the lock . . . and stopped. I just couldn’t do it.
As a Blade, you learn that it’s all right to choose not to act. Choosing not to think is another thing entirely. Though I was no longer a Blade, the lesson remained.
With a sigh I opened the trunk again and retrieved the letter. As Triss had noted, there were things we could do now in regard to exposing its secrets that we couldn’t have when I’d cared about keeping it intact. I was running through some of those in my head when I took a closer look and discovered it was going to be a simpler task than I’d expected. Since I’d last examined the letter, words had appeared on the previously blank space above the seal.
“For Aral Kingslayer, last Blade of fallen Namara.”
Un-fucking-believable. I laughed then, and it was a bitter and black sound like efik left too long a-steeping. I cracked the seal and began to read, with Triss following along over my shoulder. “I seek the redress of Justice,” it began.
After the first few lines, I reached for the whiskey bottle. This time Triss didn’t try to stop me.
4
My day started with pain. Throbbing pain and cruel light and a truly foul taste in my mouth. Nothing I hadn’t experienced before. In fact, I’d been there often enough that I knew better than to open my eyes right away. I groped upward with my left hand, feeling along the top edge of my pallet until I found a plump wineskin.
Keeping my eyes firmly closed, I brought it down and pressed the cool leather against my forehead while I fiddled with the seal. Finally, I very carefully placed the neck in my mouth and took a long pull of small beer. It was bitter and harsh and warm, and it tasted like ambrosia. Good country water would have been better yet, but in a city like Tien, only the crazy and the desperate drank from the wells. Some might have preferred tea, but since I gave up efik, I no longer drink hot drinks. Not if there’s any polite way to avoid it.
I didn’t try to move or open my eyes till I’d downed half the skin. At that point I still felt like week-old shit, but I knew that just lying there wouldn’t help anymore, so I reluctantly cracked an eyelid.
The first
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