Scion of Cyador

CXXXVIII

Ryalth bows as she steps into the square room that is Vyanat’s office. Lorn bows as well, before straightening and taking in the muscular but trim Merchanter Advisor. Behind the merchanter’s table desk is a wall that is entirely bookshelves, and almost every shelf is filled with leather-bound volumes.

Lorn notes two volumes on one of the higher shelves, volumes bound in the same shimmering silver as Ryalth’s book of verse, but the majer does not let his eyes dwell on them.

“I do appreciate your seeing me with so little notice.” Ryalth smiles.

Vyanat bows. His perfectly combed black-and-silver hair moves not a fraction of a cubit. “When a house head so successful as you asks for a moment, I am more than pleased to grant it.” His head inclines toward Lorn. “This, I presume, is your consort, the redoubtable Majer Lorn.”

Lorn bows politely once more. “I have heard much of you from Ryalth-much good.” He smiles. “I have also heard that you believe directness and honesty to be necessary for the merchanters of Cyador to flourish.”

Vyanat laughs. “You must wish to be direct.”

“I may in the future,” Lorn counters.

“Lorn had wished to meet you and to see Hyshrah House,” Ryalth says.

“It appears as though much of what affects Hyshrah House and other merchanter houses also bears upon Mirror Lancer Court, and I have but seen my consort’s house,” Lorn admits.

The faintest frown flickers across Vyanat’s brow.

“I see you have rather a large number of volumes here.” Lorn gestures to the shelves behind the Merchanter Advisor.

“Most were gathered by my sire. He insisted that I read and learn certain of them.”

“One can learn much from the past,” Ryalth suggests. “The hearts of men change seldom from generation to generation.”

Another faint frown appears on Vyanat’s face, then vanishes.

“I would not take too great a portion of your day,” Lorn says. “But if you would indulge me slightly, and just walk us around your house.”

“There is little one would not see in many houses, I am certain.” Vyanat glances at Ryalth, then looks back at Lorn and offers a quick laugh. “Still, seeing is believing, and since you do assist the Majer-Commander, I am pleased to indulge your curiosity.” The Merchanter Advisor steps from behind his table desk.

Lorn and Ryalth stand back and then follow the muscular merchanter out the office door and along the corridor.

“This study is that of my brother Vyel.” Vyanat gestures toward the open door, a gesture that is not meant to suggest entry.

Lorn ignores the body language and steps into the office, smiling.

The slender and dark-haired man behind the table filled with stacks of papers rises, his brows briefly knitting in puzzlement, his eyes going from Lorn to Vyanat and then back to Lorn.

“Ah…Vyel…this is Majer Lorn. Majer, my brother Vyel.”

Vyel smiles pleasantly.

Lorn notes the single gold front tooth. He feels that Ryalth does, as well, although nothing changes in her expression or posture.

Lorn smiles at Vyel. “You had much to do with the…difficulties with the Hypolya, did you not?”

Vyanat glances at Ryalth, who shrugs.

“Honored ser…I fear I do not understand.”

Lorn smiles. “I must have been mistaken.” Lorn smiles. “But could you tell me why you chose Benylt?” He pauses long enough to get the internal reaction he seeks, then adds, “Was that because of your respect for Tasjan? Or because of his promises?”

“I fear, ser, that you are gravely mistaken, and were you not a consort-”

Lorn looks hard at Vyel. “You do not have to answer to me, Vyel. I suggest you answer to your brother and your house.” He smiles again, and then turns to Vyanat. “I fear, most honorable Merchanter Advisor, that I have trespassed upon your hospitality, and upon your forbearance, but well you should know that there have been two attempts on my consort’s life in the past eightday. I would not intrude upon merchanter matters, but for her safety, and for the fact that I fear the devious Tasjan would put his green-clad guards against Mirror Lancer Court, after he has destroyed your reputation for honor, and that is something none of us would wish.” Lorn inclines his head toward Vyel. “I fear your younger brother has had the misfortune to be indebted in some fashion to Tasjan, and, if it is not handled discreetly, you will find matters most difficult. So…as is most unlike my usual fashion, I will leave the matter in your hands.”

Vyanat looks at Lorn. “What you say is a charge most serious, and you have presented no evidence.”

“There is little evidence, honored Vyanat, save two attempts on my consort, and the word of a would-be assassin, who died later of his wounds, that he was hired by a merchanter involved with the Hypolya who also had a gold front tooth.” Lorn shrugs. “I am certain, that with your skills, you can determine the truth of the matter far better than I. As for me, I would prefer that you do.” He offers a last smile. “But should anything else along this line occur, you will understand fully that I will be far, far less forbearing.”

“Majer…” Vyanat’s voice is low and almost threatening. “You come into my house, on my sufferance of your consort’s position…”

Lorn’s eyes are hard, like frozen fire, as he faces Vyanat. “Honored Merchanter Advisor-and you are honored-were my consort not convinced absolutely of your personal honesty and worthiness, I would not be here, and neither would your brother. You have read of my devotion to Cyador. I am even more devoted to my consort. Your brother’s actions endanger both. Because of your honor, I offer you the chance to address the matter. Only because of your honor.”

After a long stillness, Vyanat nods slowly. “Were I in your boots, I would feel much the same-”

“I am glad you understand.” Lorn pauses. “When I was at Assyadt, Commander Ikynd observed that, while I was born in Cyad, I would never be a city lancer, for I loved all of Cyador too much…” His eyes go to Vyel. “I hope you have the wisdom to offer the truth and throw yourself on your brother’s mercy. I have no mercy for those who would have blood flow across the sunstones of Cyad.” Lorn looks back at Vyanat. “I would have you know, also, that I did not tell my consort the precise reason for my wish to see you this morning, only that it concerned last evening’s attack.” He bows. “I have troubled you long enough, honored Merchanter Advisor. We can find our way back to Ryalor House. Good day.”

A slight smile crosses Vyanat’s mouth, although his eyes are cold as he looks to Ryalth. “He is devoted, Lady, and you are fortunate. The rest of us may not be so.”

Ryalth returns the smile with one equally cool. “We are most fortunate that Lorn is most temperate, and most farseeing, honored Vyanat, you in particular. You have the first opportunity to avoid what might well be seen as a sign of weakness in a time when weakness is less than acceptable.” She bows and turns.

Lorn takes her arm, and they walk down the corridor and then down the steps to the main Traders’ Plaza.

Outside, Ryalth raises her eyebrows as she looks at her consort. “You came perilously close to insulting his house, dearest.”

“I have no quarrel with him or with Hyshrah Clan, but I want him to act.”

“So that the Mirror Lancers cannot be said to become involved in merchanter affairs? Or to make Vyanat seem stronger and more perceptive to Tasjan?”

“The wisest of leaders can be less perceptive when they must judge those close to themselves.” Lorn shrugs. “You can do no wrong in my eyes. At least, I know such.” He offers a wry smile. “Now…I must repair to Mirror Lancer Court, after escorting you across the Plaza to Ryalor House.”

“You expect me to conduct trade after this?” Ryalth raises her eyebrows.

“I expect you will do so well.” Lorn grins.

She shakes her head and smiles back.