Vlad fic: A Treatise etc

[jmtorres]

This is one of the stories I wrote for the Dragaera Ficathon 2005, archived at AO3.

Title: A Treatise on the Political Machinations of the Dragon Council Between the End of the Interregnum and Empress Norathar's Coronation, as read by Kragar e'Terics
Written for: vonbrigthi
Rating: PG-13
Set in/Spoils: Jhereg

You're paying me in gold, right?

Let's see it, then. No service until payment is verified.

All right. Hand over this thing you want me to--what? Read? Perform? Critique? I am quite skilled at that. Jhereg are professionals critics.

And by "professional," I mean that when a Jhereg says a man is talking horseshit, he stops talking.

An excerpt from Paarfi's A Treatise on the Political Machinations of the Dragon Council Between the End of the Interregnum and Empress Norathar's Coronation, popularly known as The Quest for the Dragon Heir, Chapter 10, "In Which Some Members of Baronet Taltos's Staff are Introduced, Most Notably the Former Dragonlord Kragar e'Terics."

You know, I think I'm going to kill you.

The misapprehension under which Baronet Taltos labored was that Kragar's occasional state of invisibility was some natural, if unfortunate, extension of his ordinary features. As one's eye is drawn to light in the darkness, eschewing shadows, so the Baronet believed Kragar disappeared into a crowd for his unremarkableness. Under the Baronet's logic, had he been tall, or had a long nose, or fairer hair, he might have garnered attention, but, lacking height, nasal magnitude, and

And here I thought I'd be unqualified to make literary criticism.

lacking height, nasal magnitude, and follicular brilliance, he went unnoticed in a sea of more interesting faces upon which one might gaze. The Baronet clung to this inaccurate belief despite having been witness, on several occasions, to Kragar's lack of presence when there was no one else, more noteworthy nor even less, to distract one from Kragar himself, and he seemed, as the common phrase goes, to blend into the very woodwork of the walls.

Heh. That's actually true. I did wonder if Vlad was being thick or polite, though.

In truth, Kragar was the victim of an invisibility spell.

Oh, Stars beyond the Overcast. And who, dare I wonder, is to be the dastardly villain of this piece?

The descriptor 'victim' is specifically chosen over 'practitioner', for although Kragar had requested the spell be cast upon him and had eventually adapted to its unexpectedly uncontrollable effects, these effects initially caused a great deal of irreparable damage to Kragar's honor, reputation, and status.

I see. I'm a tragic figure, brought down by my own hubris. It is hubris, isn't it, not sheer foolhardiness? I don't think I could bear to be cast as a buffoon!

Heh.

In order to fully comprehend the consequences of this invisibility spell with regards to Kragar's place in the world, let us travel a century or two back in history, as though in Kragar's recollections as he reminisces of days gone by

The bastard makes it sound like he got this crap from interviewing me. I wonder who he did, really.

and eavesdrop on conversation he held with the Daymar, a Lord of the house of Hawk, who did him the honor, or perhaps the dishonor, of casting the unfortunate spell upon him.

I'd like to think Daymar would know better than to talk about me behind my back. But I'm not sure. He can be a little--vague sometimes.

Kragar approached Daymar's manor by horse on this particular day, although, having visited once before, he could, perhaps, have teleported to its courtyard, had he the ability. Unfortunately, having been engaged in various Dragonlords' private armies for several decades,

What? It paid the bills.

Kragar had had little time since end of the Interregnum in which to learn the various sorcerous innovations available with the return of the Orb. This very ignorance was the cause of Kragar's original visit to Daymar: saddled with the undesired duty of scouting enemy encampments

Spying.

and unable to learn the relatively simple trick of hiding himself from the eyes of sentries,

Rub it in, why don't you, asshole.

Kragar had sought a sorcerer capable of casting a spell of invisibility which could be activated at need.

But, alas, not at will.

Having reached the manor, Kragar dismounted his horse and offered the reins to a baffled Teckla in Hawk livery, who had been tending to the lawn. The Teckla had served Daymar for a number of years and was therefore accustomed to his experiments causing odd results within the walls of the manor house, but this was the first occasion on which the Teckla had seen magical reins leading a horse outside of the house.

I wouldn't know personally, but I damnbetcha Daymar's yard exploded as often as the house. And his neighbor's yards. And their houses.

The Teckla shook his head, supposed that one rarely permitted horses within houses and that therefore his lord Daymar must have chosen to test the magical reins in the environs of the house rather than within its walls,

Like that would ever stop Daymar from trying it in the house.

and, with some trepidation, took hold of the reins to lead the horse to the stables.

Not the stables. I never saw that horse again. I don't know if he would have stolen it for being riderless or killed it for being cursed.

Seeing that the Teckla could not, alas, see him, Kragar went on to the entrance of the house unannounced.

Kragar clapped at the door, which drew no response; likewise, his cry of "Hallo? Is there anyone at home?" went unanswered. He sighed, unsurprised, as he had already determined that sounds issuing solely from his own mouth or hands were as silent to listeners as his body was invisible to onlookers.

Being invisible, I can deal with. Being inaudible drives me batshit insane. I made Daymar take that part of the spell off.

He looked about for something with which to beat upon the door in order to produce sufficient audible noise to draw someone to answer. Failing to discover any suitable and conveniently located implement, he made his hand into a fist and applied it to the aforementioned purpose, as if he were an Easterner.

You know, Vlad doesn't knock on doors. Dunno why. And he hates it if you knock on his door--jumps three feet in the air, which is something to see with such a little guy. That's why I started just walking in. I was afraid I'd give him a heart attack.

After a moment, the peephole darkened as if shadowed by the head of someone peering through it. This promising sign was followed by the turning of the doorknob, but the door opened only a crack, as if the person behind it, baffled at the lack of caller visible through the peephole, was now checking for an Easterner or Serioli who might have been too short to have been seen by the previous means. Realizing that he would have no better opportunity, but regretful of the rudeness of the action, Kragar forced the door open and pushed the bewildered Teckla butler within. Once past the threshold, Kragar offered an invisible and truncated bow of apology, his recollection of the former condition resulting in the latter. The butler, like the gardener

Maybe he interviewed the butler. Or the gardener. How would they know if I bowed, though?

The butler, like the gardener, assumed some of his lord Daymar's mischief was behind the odd occurrence of the door knocking upon itself and opening of its own accord, and, after locking the door, headed off to inform his master that some ghost or spirit was about. Kragar had already strode down the hallway in search of Daymar by the time the Teckla had finished turning the key in the lock, oblivious to the fact that had he waited a moment longer, the Teckla would have led Kragar directly to the master of the house.

I did follow him, and he went and had a cup of klava. Then I went exploring.

Feeling uncomfortably like a burglar or a poltergeist, Kragar opened doors, searching cupboards, closets, lavatories, and empty drawing rooms for Daymar. After a fruitless half hour of this, he stumbled upon the much grander and more promising doors to the library. The reader will surely forgive

the incredible inaccuracies in this document. Barlen's scales.

The reader will surely forgive a brief digression into the history of these doors, despite Kragar's hurried and heedless rush through them in his urgent quest, for while Kragar noted little of their appearance and nothing of their importance, they were, indeed, quite noteworthy.

They were?

The doors to Daymar's library were made from two solid pieces of rednut wood, which were kept polished to a shine by Daymar's servants, and which were inlaid with stones of black and golden hues, imported from Greenaere.

Huh, like Vlad's. I wonder if they cancelled out the spell while I was in range. I always just assumed Daymar could see through his own spell, or that he was more perceptive than the average enemy sentry or commanding officer.

The golden stones were not true gold metal, not because gold was beyond the means of either Daymar or the previous owner of the doors, that is to say, the late Emperor Tortaalik, as these doors had once been located in the Imperial Library, but rather because the gold stones of the Isle of Greenaere have some magical properties which, while mysterious to a mere historian, make them of interest to sorcerers and wizards. In fact, the doors, in their previous location, had guarded, by these very properties, the entrance to the Imperial collection of volumes devoted to sorcery dating from before the very founding of the Empire, which was so dangerous that it was eventually declared illegal. They served much the same function in Daymar's house, although to a wider spectrum of perilous magic, some of which was so arcane that the Imperium had yet to realize it ought to be outlawed.

The reader must surely wonder how Daymar came to possess these doors, if they were so powerful and useful, and the property of the Empire, which does not lightly give away its treasures as trophies. Daymar was not given these twin trophies at all, but rather took them for himself, although he would surely say that he took them for their own protection, as they were on the verge of being dissolved into amorphia in the midst of Adron's Disaster when he, in one of the earliest successful attempts at teleportation,

Really. But isn't the point that they block sorcery? How did he--oh. I bet he used the damn amorphia.

You know, I know too much about this shit. I blame Vlad.

rescued them from the Imperial Palace in Dragaera City. Daymar might also dispute the description of his attempt as "successful," as he had intended to rescue the entire wing of the Imperial Library and all the volumes contained within, but discovered, to his disappointment, that only he and the doors had safely escaped.

Heh. They blocked him after all. Nice to know he's not omnipotent.

However, he was relieved to have survived, and treated the doors as something of a good luck charm, having them installed in his home to stand guard over his own collection, modest as it may have been in comparison to that which was lost.

Daymar would definitely dispute the description of his collection as "modest."

Kragar, as ignorant of the value of this collection as he was of the value of its doors, began immediately wandering through the stacks in search of Daymar without the slightest interest in any of the books upon the shelves.

Because if I had known, I would have started stealing them, of course. This guy doesn't think much of me, does he? I wasn't even Jhereg yet.

Daymar, as it happened, found him first, despite not being on the look-out for him, or, perhaps it could be said that they discovered one another simultaneously, for Daymar glanced up from his tome just as Kragar rounded a corner and espied him.

"You must be the demon my servants inform me is on the loose," Daymar said, by way of greeting.

Actually, what he said was, "You're not a demon." He seemed disappointed.

"Yes," Kragar admitted warily, surprised that Daymar could see him.

To Kragar's confusion, as Daymar could apparently see him perfectly well, the master wizard added, "Why are you invisible? Your army isn't planning to invade my estate, is it?" (The reader will, of course, recall the original end to which the spell of invisibility was the means, to wit, committing espionage without being caught.)

Hey, the line about the invasion was one of mine. Daymar can't do sarcasm.

"I have been," Kragar said delicately, "dissociated from the army I served."

"Dissociated?"

"Yes, dissociated."

"How, dissociated?"

It would probably be faster if I just skipped this whole section and told you what we actually said.

No? Hey, it's your thousand Imperials.

"I have been, in absentia, tried for and convicted of desertion, and sentenced to death."

"Oh, dear."

"Quite. In fact, one might use yet stronger terms."

"Oh, damn?"

I skipped straight to the stronger terms, so he didn't exactly have the opportunity to be cute. Why is this Paarfi insisting on making Daymar some kind of wit, anyway? Has he ever met him?

Kragar refrained from sharing what terms he felt were sufficient to express his reaction to these events.

Heh. Like I said, not so much.

"I suppose it's just as well you weren't present," said Daymar, "for if you had been, you would surely have been executed as well. Although I suppose if you had been present, you could hardly have been accused of desertion, much less tried and convicted of it."

Well, no, just because they can find you for a trial doesn't mean they won't convict you of deserting in the heat. Some people are stupid enough to come back, think nobody noticed they were missing.

"I was present," Kragar said vehemently.

"Were you?"

"I was."

"And yet you say they tried you in absentia?"

"They certainly believed that they did."

"Why was that?"

"Why?" Kragar cried. "You ask me why?"

I actually said, "Because I was invisible, dipshit." I don't recall crying, although there was a fair amount of yelling.

"Indeed I do," Daymar said.

"I sat in the court. I stood in the court. I danced about the court and waved the stenographer's quill under the judge's nose until she sneezed,

Huh, that might actually have worked. Too bad it was a field trial.

Field trial? It means my commander was looking for me, and nobody could see me, so she told her XO I was either a deserter or a traitor, and was to be executed on sight. No stenographer necessary.

and all of these antics went completely unnoticed. By no means could I convince anyone that I was present! That is why!"

Daymar regarded him for a moment, blinked, and then said, "Oh, dear." He set the volume he had been reading down upon a convenient table and looked around vaguely for a moment. "Would you like some tea?" he asked Kragar. "I've just called for some."

"I might as well, then, if it is already on its way," said Kragar, though not without rancor.

He actually had the tray there. He offered me a cup and I threw it at his book. It bounced. He had all the books spelled to repel liquid.

"How could this have happened?"

"The spell activates when you perceive yourself to be imperiled."

"Well, then?"

"Then you must have felt you were in danger."

"In danger of being court-martialed!"

"Which you were. A very accurate perception on your part."

"I might have been acquitted, had the spell not rendered me invisible."

"Or if your perception of danger had been less acute."

"Are you saying," said Kragar, with some incredulity, "that this is my fault?"

Of course. It couldn't possibly be anyone else's. May the Lords of Judgement protect any who would imply Daymar's magic could be at fault. That's a mortal insult, talking trash about a man's life's work.

"Well, you're a very nervous fellow, aren't you?" Daymar asked, not unkindly. "You're still feeling threatened, or you'd be visible even now."

"Certainly I'm feeling threatened!" cried Kragar.

Again with the crying.

"If my commander finds me, my life is forfeit!"

"You're safe enough here, aren't you?"

Actually, he called me a rank coward, said it was only natural as I wasn't much of a Dragonlord, and implied something about my father's ancestry that damn near got him killed. I think he just meant it as an idle observation, though. He has no tact whatsoever. He then asked me if I had some kind of phobia about tea or books. I said a coward would never have braved a wizard's lair to tell him off, and only a fool wouldn't be afraid when he did so. Paarfi's killed all my good lines.

"But I can't stay here, and I hardly desire to! I think you owe me some sort of recompense for the damage your spell has wrought on my career and my reputation."

"Refuge wouldn't suffice?"

He didn't offer. We were never that close.

"No, sir, it would not!"

Huh. Wow. I haven't called anyone sir since I got court-martialed, let alone anyone who wasn't my actual superior. Even Vlad's just 'Boss.'

"Then perhaps you would like me to remove the spell?"

"No."

"No?"

"I fear," said Kragar with an air of mournfulness, "that it shall be even more necessary now, if I am to evade those of my former House and escape with my life."

This was actually Daymar's suggestion, I think because he couldn't figure out how to get the thing off. He was just starting to dabble in psionics at that point, and he thought himself very clever, attaching the spell to my psyche instead of some physical object, like a charm I could wear. But psionic bonds are hard to break. You know how it is--once you know someone well enough to get through the first time, you never go back to having to sit there thinking their name for half an hour before they respond.

"The perhaps I can offer you conscious control over the activation of the spell?"

"That would be most appreciated," said Kragar gratefully.

Which was what I demanded, and which would have been great to have from the start, and which was not what I actually got. I can deactivate it at will, which is almost as good. I also have a set of breathing exercises I'm supposed to do to avoid flickering out in the middle of business meetings and crap, but really, it's easier to just keep hitting the off switch.

Unfortunately, we have been unable to obtain a formula for this spell

Because there wasn't one. He pulled it out of his ass. And fixing it was an experiment that took three weeks.

but we are assured that only the most well-educated and knowledgeable reader would be able to follow any such formula, and we would deeply regret troubling the vast majority of non-wizardly readers with a technical treatise they can neither understand nor enjoy. To go on at length

Blah, blah, blah,

on a matter of no use or interest to them would be a great disservice and a waste of their time. Therefore, without further ado, we return to the third century following the Interregnum, and Baronet Taltos's surprise at Kragar's presence, which we hope has now been adequately explained.

Great. Am I done now?

Gimme the damn gold.