Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 201
"You have been sent to us, sir. You might think you were the
author of your own actions, but you are not. A higher power
has sent you to us."
Chan shook his head sloppily. "Yer delusional." He
tried again to stand, unsuccessfully.
"Feeling a bit weak?" Turcaret asked. "Good. Stay
there, I want to show you something."
He reached behind the orange tree and brought out the
wrapped packages his man had delivered just prior to Chan’s
arrival. He leaned the long cloth bundle on his own chair, and
put the smaller package on the table. He unwound the cloth
that wrapped it. Chan blinked at him owlishly as he did so.
Turcaret spared a glance outside. The sun was down. It
was time.
"Recognize any of these?" Turcaret unrolled the smaller
bundle to reveal a dagger, a cloak pin, and a wide, ornate belt.
"Hey!" Chan fell forward over the table top. "Those're
mine! You stole ‘em?"
Well, that was finally a satisfying reaction. Turcaret
casually unwound the cloth from the longer bundle. He held
up the sword and let the last drapes of cloth fall from its tip.
"And how about this?"
Chan stared at the blade. He said nothing. He had
obviously expected to see his own sword revealed under the
wrap, correctly assuming that it had also been stolen from his
room. This was not his sword, but rather a much more ornate,
finely made epee. "Yuri’s favorite sword," Turcaret said. "He
keeps it in his bed chamber. I've only borrowed it, don't worry.
It's going to be back there in an hour or two."
Shaking his head, Chan tried to rise. "Hey, wait. Just
wait a--" He fell back, head lolling.
"You should see yourself," Turcaret said. "You look