Scion of Cyador (46 page)

My dear son,

You may have already begun to see what necessary cruelty has been visited upon you, for you are one of the few hopes of Cyad and Cyador. If you have not, this will offer a few more keys to the lock of the future.

First, I must say that for your wisdom and fortune in finding your consort, I cannot tell you how thankful I am. For without her, I am not certain you would have the future you may. She is a treasure greater than any other, and I regret that I could not say such in the early years, when you would have looked askance had I expressed favor for her. You had to discover that for yourself, against my wishes, if necessary, although I would ask that you recall that I did not persist in my opposition, as I did in other matters.

Lorn cocks his head, then laughs. Beside him, Ryalth lifts her eyebrows. Lorn hands her the first sheet of the letter. “You should read this.”

She takes it and begins to read.

Lorn continues with his father’s words.

Second, the papers that accompany this missive are for your use. Some are for you to use with Magi’i of your choice, but of those I know who are close to you, I would suggest but Tyrsal and your brother. For all the rumors about him, I can also say that Liataphi is far more trustworthy than those immediately above him, although the First Magus under whom I have served can generally be trusted to think about the well-being of Cyador.

Lorn pauses and looks at Ryalth. “What do you think?”

“After I came to know your father, I liked him.” She smiles. “He understood just how rebellious you were.”

“Me?”

“You,” she affirms. “You’d best keep reading while Kerial sleeps.”

Lorn looks back at the parchment sheet he holds.

Third, I have not been fully responsive in revealing the truth about my duties, for my association with Toziel is far closer than I have indicated. This may come to light. It may not. As I once remarked, unguardedly, you are far closer in temperament to him, I think, than most would ever realize. For all our past closeness, do not presume upon it or approach him or his consort unless you are approached. This I cannot emphasize too strongly.

“Didn’t the Hand of the Emperor die about the same time as my father?” Lorn asks Ryalth.

“A little later, I think…” Her mouth opens. “Of course… of course…”

Lorn nods. “It makes a great deal of sense.” He hands her the second sheet of the letter. “Especially if you read this.”

Ryalth scans the letter and then looks at her consort. “Best you be most careful, dearest, for he will have had enemies, careful as he was.”

“I doubt he had as many as I already have,” Lorn says dryly. “He was far more cautious.”

“A Hand must be silent and cautious. Had you been such, would you now yet live?”

“I think not.” Lorn glances back down at the letter.

Fourth and finally, I would that you remember that, while fear motivates most men far more than hope or justice, fear seldom sets their feet to moving forward. One can paralyze one’s opponents with fear, but one must stand forth to lead. I was never one much for standing forth, or perhaps my skills did not lie in such. Yours do, and you must lead through your talents. Do not let your talents lead you. I did not wish you to be of the Magi’i, for your skills would have led you away from yourself.

My blessing and my curse, alas, are the same. Go forth and do great deeds. You may succeed. You may not, but a life lived in betrayal of what one is cannot be considered a life lived, and already you have lived more of a life than most twice your years.

Lorn looks blankly at the signature for a time, then silently hands the last sheet to Ryalth. She takes it and reads, this time more slowly, finally looking up at him.

“Do men make the times, or times the man?” he asks quietly.

“Your father was a man of his times, and you are one of your times.”

“That’s true,” Lorn says. “But… are we what we are because of those times, or because we simply are-regardless of the times?”

“He was a man of his time. You could be one for all times.”

“You’re kind, but I don’t know about that.”

Ryalth smiles-an amused expression. She only says, “Perhaps you should read the rest of the papers-at least some of them-to see why he wanted you to have them.”

“Yes, honored Lady Trader.”

“And don’t humor me, most honored Majer and Mirror Lancer.”

Lorn winces. “I’m sorry.”

“Read them.”

Lorn sets aside the letter and begins with the first sheet.

In the days to come, for any man who would wish to inhabit the Palace of Eternal Light, he must assure himself first of the support of the Mirror Lancers, then of the merchanters, and lastly of the Magi’i…

Many have claimed that the Magi’i hold the key to power in Cyad, and thus in Cyador. This illusion has proven useful to the Magi’i, and to those who sit upon the Malachite Throne, for the Magi’i can be said to recommend and require that which is necessary, yet not popular.

Lorn flips to another section, then a third, before another set of words catches his attention.

When the chaos-towers fail, and fail they will, he who would be leader of Cyad must know what will serve to replace them and the devices which now they power. For a vast land must have means of moving people and goods that are faster and carry more goods than mere horse- or ox-drawn wagons…

…what is often forgotten is that there remain the lesser forces of chaos within the world, such as that released when burn wood or the hardest of coals. These I have detailed in the pages which follow, and the means by which they may yet be implemented before all the chaos-towers fail.

Lorn sits back. He can only look at the papers. “What’s the matter, dearest?” asks Ryalth.

“He knew it all. He knew everything, and he never told me. He never told me.”

“But he did. He told you when you could use what he knew. Could you have done aught with it before now?”

Lorn shakes his head. “But he knew, and he left it all to me.”

“The times were not right.”

Lorn frowns, but says nothing, his eyes going to the box in his lap, and the papers that he knows must hold far more than he had ever imagined his father would have considered, papers he must read, and read soon.

His eyes burn, and Ryalth reaches out and takes his hand.

LXXXIX

The Captain-Commander of Mirror Lancers sees a figure in shimmering merchanter blues and angles across the wide corridor before the vacant Great Hall of the
Palace
of
Eternal Light
, his steps gauged so that his path intercepts that of the shorter man. “Greetings, honored Merchanter Advisor.”

“Greetings to you, Captain-Commander,” returns Vyanat’mer. “How go matters in
Lancer Court
?”

“As well as can be expected.” Luss bows his head slightly. “I wish to commend you on your dispatch. You were most quick to ensure that the battle report on the Jeran… campaign was circulated to all trading houses.”

“We would not wish to unwittingly cause greater casualties for the Mirror Lancers. So all the large clan houses needed to know, as well as others trading to the north.”

“Including Ryalor House?”

“Ryalor House is a clan house, and larger than many,” replies Vyanat’mer. “The house trades widely, as do several.”

“And Lady Ryalth was not perturbed?”

“The lady is well-aware of her responsibilities to the Empire, as are all the most perceptive house chiefs.”

“I would hope so, especially now.”

The wiry but muscular Merchanter Advisor laughs. “What you hope, Captain-Commander, is for anything you can use to discredit the young majer who made you look like a donkey in a fancy uniform. Failing that, you will seek to make me resemble that same animal. I have also made that clear to all the clan heads. The merchanters do not intend to take sides in a struggle that will take place either within the
Mirror Lancer Court
, or the Quarter of the Magi’i. Nor do we wish to be forced to side with one faction or another.”

“Brave words, Vyanat. I recall that the majer also brought back some six thousand golds, many coined in Cyador, and it might be most interesting to discover how those reached the hands of the Jeranyi.”

“They reached them because people everywhere hold good coins and spend the poor. Now… if you had found clan houses with Hamorian-minted golds or Suthyan coins… then I would be concerned-and rightfully so.” Vyanat’mer shakes his head, but not a strand of the gray-streaked black hair moves. “As for my words, they are not brave. They are accurate. Chyenfel cannot live that much longer. The old Hand of the Emperor is dead; there is no new Hand. Rynst will live long enough to ensure that you will not succeed him unless you can have him murdered, and then all will look to you. If you can discredit Majer Lorn, then you hope to discredit Rynst, for you dare not kill him.”

“That is a most interesting set of observations.”

Vyanat smiles coolly. “What I do not see is why you need to discredit young Lorn. He is far too young to threaten your position or Rynst’s. It is clear that the Majer-Commander only wishes him to remain in Cyad for a year or two, so that he understands how matters are. He can also be used, if necessary, to command any lancers Rynst may need to bring into Cyad. He is clearly ruthless enough for that, and Rynst can disclaim responsibility. Then he will go back out to Syadtar or Assyadt as a commander for several tours, and only then, if he succeeds, will he be considered as a possible Captain-Commander. You will either have consolidated your position as Majer-Commander, or you will be dead, long before that can possibly occur.”

Luss frowns.

“Is that not true? So why do you worry?” Vyanat laughs. “Perhaps you are concerned for the Second Magus? Rynst cares little for Kharl’elth, and would do all he could do to keep him from succeeding Chyenfel. Have you noticed how carefully the clever Kharl has suggested problems with both the Third Magus and with the late Kien’elth? And with what Rynst does?” A second laugh follows. “And who would that leave for First Magus?”

“And you, of course, have no ambitions at all?” asks the Captain-Commander.

“I make no secrets of my ambitions, and I have several. The first is to ensure that my head and my body both remain healthy and attached to each other. I have no desire to follow the example of my predecessor. The second is to ensure that the Magi’i and the Mirror Lancers do not meddle excessively in each other’s affairs, because the merchanters will be the ones who suffer from such. I do not delude myself into thinking that we will ever have the esteem accorded to either the Mirror Lancers or the Magi’i. Look at Bluoyal. He actually thought he could use intrigue to fill the chests of his house. And where are those of his house now? Fearing that I will take away their clan status, cowering in the corners of their warehouses, and watching every shadow cast by every lamp on every corner of the merchanter quarter of Cyad.”

“Those are fine words,” Luss replies.

“Fine words are but as fine as the truth they portray,” counters Vyanat. “I do not ask you to believe my words, Captain-Commander. Test them yourself. Ask who would benefit from any action to discredit each of those men. How does young Lorn benefit? He has a consort and a young son, and he is recently consorted enough that he would like to enjoy both. He knows that he must support Rynst, or perish. Rynst has doubtless told him not to anger you. If he angers you, he angers Rynst. He will try not to anger Kharl, for his sister is consorted to Kharl’s son. His consort is a merchanter. Thus, everywhere he turns, he must tread with care. So why is he a danger? Who uses him to divert prying gazes? And why do we never hear of the other young man favored by the First Magus? Is it because Kharl wishes him to be thought of less? Or to be unseen until it is too late? Or does Chyenfel position the other?”

“You seem to have the answers, honored Merchanter Advisor.”

“I have the questions. You must find the answers that satisfy you, not the ones that satisfy me.” Vyanat smiles gently. “You might also ask why the honored Second Magus says little about the lesser number of firelances that your lancers receive, and why he opposed the sleep barrier for the Accursed Forest. Or perhaps why young Majer Lorn relinquished his elder-claim to his younger brother before he returned to Biehl and then to Inividra. Such an action could not benefit him.”

“It is most intriguing that you know so much.”

“Merchanters must traffic in information as much as golds, or we would perish, Captain-Commander. Would you like me to recall that in your first posting, in Pemedra, you were commended for bravery?”

Luss shakes his head. “And what other tidbits would you pull forth?”

“That you discouraged your eldest-your daughter-from consorting with a young magus, perhaps on the advice of the honored Kharl’elth.” Vyanat smiles almost sympathetically. “About that, I have learned, Kharl was doubtless correct. The young magus was demoted and sent to the Mirror Engineers in Fyrad, where he will doubtless supervise the repair of the
Great
Canal
for many years to come.” The Merchanter Advisor nods. “Now… if you will pardon me… I am already perilously close to being late to meet with several clan heads to resolve a dispute over the classification of cottons. And I do not seek to give you false information. As I said, I but pose the questions. You must find those answers which satisfy you.” A last smile follows his words.