Teckla by Steven Brust Page B

hip.
    "So, how is my grandson?"
    "So-so, I guess, Noish-pa."
    "Only so-so?"
    I nodded.
    "You have a problem," he said.
    "Yeah. It's complicated."
    "Simple things are never problems, Vladimir. Some simple things are sad, but never problems."
    "Yeah."
    "So, how did this problem start?"
    "How did it start? Someone named Franz was killed."
    "Ah! Yes. A terrible thing."
    I stared at him. "You know about it?"
    "It is on everyone's tongue."
    "It is?"
    "Well, these people, his… what is the word? Elvtarsok?"
    "Friends? Associates?"
    "Well, these people are everywhere, and they talk about it."
    "I see."
    "But you, Vladimir. You are not one of these people, are you?" I shook my head. "Cawti is."
    He sighed. "Vlad, Vlad, Vlad. It is silliness. If a revolution comes along, of course you support it. But to go out of your way like this is to put your head on the block."
    "When has revolution come along?"
    "Eh? In two twenty-one."
    "Oh. Yes. Of course."
    "Yes. We fought then, because it was what we did, but some can't forget that and think we should be always fighting."
    I said, "What do you know about these people?"
    "Oh, I hear things. Their leader, this Kelly, he is a fighter they say."
    "A fighter? A brawler?"
    "No, no. I mean he never quits, that is what I hear. And they are getting bigger, you know. I remember I heard of them a few years ago when they had a parade of twenty people, and now they have thousands."
    "Why do people go there?"
    "Oh, there are always those who aren't happy. And there has been violence here; beatings and robbing of people, and they say the Phoenix Guards of the Empire don't stop it. And some landlords raise their rent because some of their houses burn down, and people are unhappy about that, too."
    "But none of that has anything to do with Cawti. We don't even live around here."
    He shook his head and tsked. "It is silliness," he repeated. I said, "What can I do?"
    He shrugged. "Your grandmother did things I didn't like, Vladimir. There is nothing to be done. Perhaps she will lose interest." He frowned. "No, that is unlikely. Cawti does not lose interest when she becomes interested. But there, it is her life, not yours."
    "But Noish-pa, that's just it. It's her life. Someone killed this Franz, and now Cawti is doing just what he was doing. If she wants to run around with these people and stir up trouble, or whatever they're doing, that's fine, but if she were killed, I couldn't stand it. But I can't stop her, or she'll leave me."
    He frowned again and nodded. "Have you tried things?"
    "Yes. I tried talking to Kelly, but that didn't do anything."
    "Do you know who it was who killed this Franz fellow?"
    "Yeah, I know who."
    "And why?"
    I paused. "No, I don't really know that."
    "Then you must find out. Perhaps you will find that there is nothing to worry about, after all. If there is, perhaps you will find a way to solve it without risk to your wife."
    Your wife he said. Not Cawti this time, it was your wife. That was how he thought. Family. Everything was family, and we were all the family he had. It suddenly occurred to me that he was probably disappointed in me; I don't think he approved of assassins, but I was family so that was that.
    "What do you think of my work, Noish-pa?"
    He shook his head. "It is terrible, what you do. It is not good for a man to live by killing. It hurts you."
    "Okay." I was sorry I had asked. I said, "Thank you, Noish-pa. I have to go now."
    "It was good to see you again, Vladimir."
    I hugged him, collected Loiosh, and walked out of his shop. The way back to my side of town was long, and I still didn't feel like teleporting. When Cawti came home that evening, I was soaking my feet.
    "What's the matter?" she asked.
    "My feet hurt."
    She gave me a half-smile. "Somehow this doesn't surprise me. I mean, why do your feet hurt?"
    "I've been walking a lot the last few days." She sat down across from me and stretched out. She was wearing highwaisted gray slacks with a wide black belt, a