Rise of a Merchant Prince (47 page)

“Not very well made,” said Erik inspecting the hilt still in his hand. Having been a smith for years, he said, “The blade wasn't even steel.”

Calis knelt and picked up a piece of shattered metal. “It wasn't supposed to be steel. It was supposed to have been something . . . far more deadly.”

Erik tossed away the hilt.

Calis moved around the statue, inspecting it. “This is supposed to be the Green Mother of All,” he said quietly. “In a strange fashion, she would be my aunt.”

Erik's eyes widened slightly, and he glanced at Miranda and Boldar. Miranda watched Calis's face closely, as if she were anxious about something. Boldar returned Erik's questioning glance with a shrug.

Miranda said, “These are . . . stage properties.” She waved her hand at the artifacts in the cases. “It's as if a company of actors were staging this.” She looked around the vast hall. “This is a theater more than a temple.”

Boldar looked at the carnage on the floor and the bones in the pit. “The murder is real enough.”

Calis said, “Look here.”

Erik came over and saw a faint crack along the back of the huge idol. He put his hand over it and felt a draft of air. “There's an entrance behind here.”

Calis put his shoulder to the idol and Erik pushed as well. Rather than the enormous resistance they expected from an idol this massive, it rolled away a few feet, being hinged on the opposite side from where they stood. A man-sized opening was visible in the wall behind the idol, an entrance to a flight of stairs leading downward.

Miranda knelt and examined the base of the idol from behind. “This is marvelous engineering,” she observed.

Boldar looked at the metalwork. “Nothing like this was forged on Midkemia.”

Erik also looked at the marvelous wheels, pulleys,
and hinges and was forced to agree. He wished for enough time to linger over these items—he was still fascinated by the smith's arts—but Calis was already moving down the stairs.

Erik gripped his torch tightly in his left hand, his sword in his right, and called over his shoulder, “Sergeant!”

De Loungville shouted back, “What?”

“There's a passage down here. The Captain's heading down it.”

“Understood!” said de Loungville as he continued to have the men look over the corpses for anything that might shed light on what had happened in this strange underground city of serpent men.

Erik stepped on the top step and followed the others downward.

Duncan knocked on the gate and was quickly answered by a servant; he assumed the gateman had been waiting for Roo to arrive.

“Yes?” asked the servant.

“I bear a message for Lady Sylvia from Rupert Avery.”

Seeing the rider was dressed in fine clothing, the servant opened the gate, asking, “And who might you be, sir?”

“I am Duncan Avery.”

“Very well, sir,” said the servant, closing the gate behind Duncan as he rode up to the front of the house.

Duncan dismounted and gave the reins to another servant, and walked to the door. He knocked loudly.

A few moments later the door opened, and Sylvia stood regarding Duncan. She wore another of the
stunning evening gowns only the boldest young women of Krondor would dare to display themselves in; she was one of the few who could do justice to it.

Duncan smiled his most charming smile.

She said, “I was expecting Rupert.”

“He sends his regrets. I thought it far more civil to bring word in person, rather than letting an impersonal note serve.”

She stepped aside and said, “Do come in.”

He entered and said, “He regrets that the press of business and family matters conspire to keep him away this evening. He is devastated.”

Sylvia allowed herself a slight smile. “I somehow find it difficult to imagine that Roo said it in quite that fashion.”

Duncan shrugged. “I thought perhaps if you had no objection, I might offer you my poor company as an alternative.”

She laughed. Taking his arm in hers, she pressed her bosom hard against him as she walked him to the dining hall. “I doubt women find your company poor, dear . . . Duncan, is it not?”

“It is indeed, Sylvia. If I may presume?”

Reaching the dining room, she said, “You may presume a great deal, I think.” She led him to the chair at the end of the table and motioned for him to sit, as a servant pulled out her chair. “We met that night at the party; now I remember.”

Duncan smiled and she studied his face a while.

“Let us eat,” said Sylvia. “And drink. Yes, I find I'm in the mood for a great deal of wine.” Motioning to Duncan's goblet, she told the servant, “Some of Father's best.”

As the servant disappeared to fetch a bottle of
wine, Sylvia fixed Duncan with as penetrating a gaze as she could. “Good cousin Duncan. Yes, Roo has spoken of you.” She smiled again. “Let us drink a great deal, dear Duncan. Let us get drunk together. And then, later, we'll think of some other things we might do.”

Duncan's smile broadened. “Whatever your pleasure, I am at your service.”

She reached over and scratched the back of his hand with her nails. “Pleasure and service; my, what a treasure you are!”

The servant arrived and poured wine, and supper commenced.

Roo smiled.

He had slept a long night, and had awakened to a house full of noise. But rather than irritating him, the noise delighted him. The baby squealed and made cooing noises, while Abigail talked her baby talk.

Karli seemed her usual subdued self, but smiled at whatever small comment he made. He lingered over breakfast, and finally, when he left for the office, she walked with him to the door, where he paused.

“Would you like to live in the country?” he asked.

“I hadn't given it any thought,” answered Karli.

He looked out the door across the street to Barret's and said, “When I was a child I used to run for hours, or at least it seemed like hours, without seeing another person. The air is clean and there's a silence at night. I think I'd like to build us a house outside the city—a place where the little ones can run and play and grow strong.”

She smiled at his reference to the children, for he rarely spoke of them. “Will you be able to conduct
your business from so distant a home?”

He laughed. “I now control the company. I think I can delegate more day-to-day business to Dash, Jason, and Luis.”

“And Duncan?”

“Of course,” he said. “He's my cousin.”

She nodded.

“I would have to come in from time to time, and you and the children would come with me for holidays, and we'd stay in the city during winter, but when the weather's warm, a place a day's ride from the city wouldn't be much of a hardship.”

“Whatever you think best,” she answered, lowering her eyes.

He reached out to touch her chin, gently lifting it. “I want you happy, Karli. If you don't wish to live away from the city, we'll stay here. If you think it would be nice, we'll build another house. You decide.”

She seemed genuinely surprised. “Me?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling. “Think on it. I'll be across the street if you need me.”

He crossed and entered the building. Kurt practically fell over himself opening the gate for him as he said, “Good morning, Mr. Avery.”

Roo almost tripped, he was so surprised by the usually surly waiter's politeness. He turned to discover men who had barely glanced at him since he had become a member rising to greet him. “Good morning, Mr. Avery,” was repeated by men whose names he could barely recall.

When he mounted the stairs, he discovered a new railing had been put across the last third of the upper balcony, and on the other side sat Luis, Jason, and
Dash. Dash nimbly jumped up and with a dramatic flourish opened the swinging gate in the rail.

“What is this?”

Dash grinned. “I arranged with Mr. McKeller for us to take a permanent position here, with an option for the rest of this side of the balcony area in the future.”

“Really?” said Roo, fixing Dash with a baleful look. “And what was all this business below?”

Dash attempted to look innocent. “I merely let it be known yesterday afternoon, after you left for the day, that you were now controlling owner of the Bitter Sea Company.” Lowering his voice, he added, “You're probably the richest man in Krondor this morning, Rupert.”

Dash held out his hand, and Jason produced a fist full of papers. He handed them to Dash, who passed them along to Roo. “The trading fleet from the Free Cities returned on the evening tide last night!”

Roo grabbed the sheets and looked them over. “This is fantastic!” Not only had they sold the last shipments of grain at far above the projected market value—the locust plague had crossed the Grey Towers and struck hard at the Far Coast—the ships had returned carrying cargo brilliantly selected at prices sure to realize a profit. They had projected the ships returning empty, so indeed Rupert was far more wealthy than he had imagined.

“There you are!” said Crowley, hurrying up the stairs.

Roo said, “Good morning, Brandon.”

“Don't you good-morning me, you thief.”

“What?” said Roo, his good humor vanishing.

“You knew that fleet was coming in, yet you sat
there and cozened us with babble about risk and—”

“Cozened!” exclaimed Roo. He stood up. “Brandon, I offered to
sell
you my share of the Bitter Sea Company!”

“Part of a clever plot to cheat us all, obviously.”

“Oh, mercy,” said Roo, turning toward Dash.

“Don't deny it,” challenged Crowley.

Roo turned. “Brandon, I have no patience for making denials.” He looked at his former partner. “Here's what I will do. You have a choice. I will tell Jason to account the profits on the fleet and give you what would have been your share of the profits from this voyage had you not sold me your share in the Bitter Sea Company last night.

“If I do this, do not ever again expect me to invite you into any business with the Bitter Sea Company. The gold we account you today will be the last you will ever see from us. In fact, should fate put us at odds, I will ensure you're crushed.” He smiled as he said this. “Or you can simply accept that you bet the wrong way on the turn of the card and leave with some attempt at good grace. If you can manage that, I will be sure to invite you to join with the Bitter Sea Company on other ventures in the future when I seek partners. Those are your choices; what do you prefer?”

Crowley stood there for a long moment, then said, “Bah! You're giving me a fool's choice. But I wasn't here to beg favors. I want no part of your ill-gotten profits, Roo Avery. A bargain's a bargain, and you'll not hear otherwise from Brandon Crowley.” He turned and left, muttering under his breath.

After he'd gone, Dash laughed. Jason said, “If he'd taken but a day to think on your offer, he'd have
been a far wealthier man.”

Roo nodded emphatically. “That's the whole point of his complaint. He's mad at himself.”

“Do you think you've made an enemy?” asked Luis.

Roo said, “No. Brandon just enjoys complaining. He'll be back the second I invite him, to make sure he's involved in any rich deals, but he'll keep complaining.”

The other partners showed up later that morning, but unlike Crowley they simply congratulated Roo on his good fortune, and themselves on their increased profits on the portion of the company they still owned.

Roo spent the next hour exchanging pleasantries with other men of note in the coffee house. About midmorning, the last social visitor departed, and Roo asked, “Where is Duncan?”

“I haven't seen him since yesterday,” said Dash.

Roo shrugged. “I asked him to run an errand for me after leaving here. Knowing Duncan, I'd wager he went out after that and found some woman to tumble.” Roo then glanced about to ensure no one else was close by, then motioned to his three companions to come closer so he could speak softly. “Someone has betrayed us.”

Jason looked at Luis and Dash. “How do you know?”

“Someone knew more about this company than would be possible without inside communications; that party sent word to the Jacobys.”

He explained how he had agreed to run Jacoby and Sons for Helen and her children. “Jason, go over to their office and introduce yourself to anyone who
might still be there; most of Tim's hired men are in prison today, so there may not be anyone around but a clerk or two. If they need convincing, have someone go to Helen Jacobys home and get confirmation as to our arrangement.

“Go over the books and see what is due and what is needed, but also keep an eye out for any hint of who our betrayer might be.”

Jason nodded. “I'll go at once.”

After he left, Roo said, “Very well, gentlemen, what else concerns us today?” He sat and began attending to the duties of being the richest man in Krondor.

Duncan stood at the door while Sylvia gave him a long kiss. “Stop that,” he said, “or we'll be back upstairs.”

She smiled, and closed the sheer night-robe she wore, which had fallen open. “No, sorry to say. I must get some sleep and the morning is half-over. Now go.”

She closed the door behind him as he walked down to where a groom brought his horse, and waited until she heard the horse moving away. She walked to the left hall and continued down to the office. Opening the door, she stepped through.

Jacob Estherbrook looked up and, seeing the open robe, said, “Cover yourself, Sylvia. What would the servants say?”

“Whatever they say,” said Sylvia, ignoring his instruction and letting the robe stay open. She enjoyed outraging her father. She sat down on the other side of the desk. “There's not one of them who hasn't seen me undressed from time to time.” She
neglected to mention that several of them had shared her bed over the years as well. Both she and Jacob pretended he didn't know of her indulgences.

“Was that young Avery?”

She grinned. “That was the other young Avery. Duncan came in his cousin's stead. So I decided he might as well fulfill all of Roo's duties.”

Jacob sighed. “You create potential difficulties, Sylvia.”

She laughed, leaning back, allowing the robe to fall even farther open. “I always create difficulties; it's my nature. But this Duncan is as venal as any man I've met, I'll wager, be the price gold or flesh. I think we can use him, especially if we offer him both gold and flesh.”

“Really?” said Jacob, ignoring his daughter's brazen attempt to embarrass him.

“He could prove a useful weapon,” she said with a smile. Jacob nodded. “Well, having an ally inside the Bitter Sea Company is very useful. Having two would be even better. But considering the situation, I'd like to remind you what disaster might befall us should you blunder and let the two discover each other.”

She stood, stretching and arching her back, like a cat. “Have I ever made a mistake where men are concerned, Father?”

He sat back in his chair. “Not so far, daughter, but you are young.”

“I don't feel young,” she said, turning and leaving his office.

Jacob considered for a moment the creature who was his daughter, then dismissed such musing. He had never understood women, not Sylvia, not her
dead mother, not the occasional wench he tumbled down at the Sign of the White Wing. To him women were to be either used or ignored. Then he thought again of his daughter and realized that ignoring such a one as she could prove deadly. Sighing at what he saw her to be, he refused to assign blame to himself; he had never intended for her to turn out as she had and, besides, she served the needs of Jacob Estherbrook and Company admirably.

Erik pointed. “What is that?”

They had found a long tunnel leading away from the bottom of the flight of stairs behind the idol. De Loungville reported finding nothing of interest among the slain above, and Calis ordered the rest of his company down to the tunnel.

Seeing how tired the men were, Calis had ordered a halt. They slept for what Erik judged to be several hours on the landing at the bottom of the stairs, before moving along the large tunnel that led away into the gloom.

While waiting, Erik had noticed what appeared to be a large pipe leading along the ceiling of the hall. “Drainpipe?” offered Praji.

Erik tried to inspect it, and finally said, “Hand me a lantern.”

Vaja obliged and Erik looked closely. Erik held the lantern close and said, “It's no pipe. I think it's solid.” He took out his sword and gently tapped the blade against it.

A shriek loud enough to cause those awake to cover their ears and to jolt every sleeping man to alertness echoed down the tunnel while an angry green flash nearly blinded Erik.

Praji, who had been standing next to Erik, said, “Don't do that again,” while Miranda waved her hand, her mouth moving as she softly spoke an incantation.

Erik felt his arm sting to the shoulder and said, “Don't worry, I won't.”

Miranda said, “It's a conduit.”

“For what?” asked Calis.

“Life.”

Erik frowned and looked to Boldar, who stood next to his employer. The alien mercenary shrugged. “I have no idea what she's talking about.”

Calis said, “We move out, now!”

The men formed up and they moved down the tunnel. Erik heard Alfred mutter, “Given that shriek, no one's going to be surprised when we show up.”

Erik said, “Given what we've seen, anyone who's surprised by anything down here is an idiot.”

“There is that,” agreed the former corporal from Darkmoor.

Erik said, “Take the rear, Alfred. I need someone with a steady nerve back there.”

With a faint smile at the praise, the one-time brawler stepped aside to let the other men pass.

They followed the tunnel until they came to a large wooden door. They carefully inspected the door, listening for noise, and when they heard nothing, Calis put his hand against the wood. He pushed and the door swung inward.

Calis and Erik stepped into a large chamber, and Erik's hair bristled, even down to the hair on his arms. The room was filled with strange power, energies that swept through him, filling him with a giddy feeling.

Everything was illuminated by a series of lanterns in the ceiling, recessed so the source of the light couldn't be seen unless one stood directly underneath. The soft glow was tinged with green, and Erik suspected that the green flash of light he had seen when his blade had touched what Miranda called a “conduit” and the alien light in this room were related.

Five figures turned as they entered, and instantly Calis's sword was out and he was charging. Erik, Praji, and Vaja didn't wait for orders, duplicating the captain's attack.

Miranda shouted, “Back!” to those behind her while she began casting a spell.

Five Pantathian serpent priests began casting spells. A sixth priest, in ornate robes, sat motionless atop a large throne, observing without any change of expression. Erik dove under the outstretched arm of a priest as a blinding blast of energy exploded off the creature's hand. Erik rolled over on his back, just catching a glimpse of Miranda using some type of mystic shield to deflect the blast down toward the floor.