Scion of Cyador

CLIII

In the darkness just after dusk, Lorn sits at the small study desk in his dwelling. He looks into the chaos-glass as the silver mists slip away. Ryalth stands behind him, holding Kerial. The image in the glass is clear enough. Five men sit around a table. Lorn recognizes but one of the five, and that is Sasyk.

“Daaa!” Kerial tries to lurch from Ryalth’s arms toward the chaos-glass. “Gaaa…”

“Kerial! Hold still!”

At the sharpness of Ryalth’s tone, tears begin to form at the corners of the boy’s eyes.

“Hush…be quiet, dearest.” Ryalth cuddles him even as she strains to make out the faces in the lamplit glass. “Sasyk is the one in the middle…I don’t know the two others in green…that’s Kernys on the right, and Denys on the left.”

“That is Denys?” For some reason Lorn has pictured Denys like his predecessor, large and bulky, but Bluoyal’s successor as the head of Bluyet House is a handsome man of modest proportion.

“For all his looks, dearest, he is less trustworthy than Bluoyal was.”

Lorn lets the image lapse. He closes his eyes and massages his forehead for a moment before turning and looking at his consort. “I do not see others from Dyjani Clan. You had said that the clan would most likely support others.”

“Nor do I see those who should be there.” Ryalth sighs. “That bodes ill for Husdryt and Torvyl.”

“Could Sasyk be plotting with Kernys and Denys? To hold Dyjani House?”

“It would appear that he already does. So Sasyk has the Dyjani, Bluyet House, and Kysan House behind him? Most merchanters do not trust Vyanat that much because of the death of his brother.”

“What about Yuryan House?” Lorn asks.

“Veljan will not support Sasyk, but the strength of Yuryan House lies in its vessels and outland warehouses and factors.” As she stands beside Lorn, Ryalth rocks Kerial back and forth in the dimness of the study, lit by the single lamp on corner of the desk. “Sasyk is telling all that the Magi’i killed Tasjan, for only a magus could enter a locked and guarded dwelling and vanish so. He says that is because they wish to take more of the merchanters’ golds for themselves.”

Lorn gestures at the blank glass. “Some believe him.”

“They are the ones who wish to believe.”

“Were you the one who had the old bills of lading and other papers showing Tasjan’s treachery appear in the Plaza?” Lorn raises his eyebrows. “Rynst told me this had happened.”

“I did not do such.” Ryalth smiles. “But it would not have happened had I not requested a favor.”

“It may help. I hope that it does.” Lorn frowns. “Rynst ordered Shykt, Dhynt, and Muyro to Dellash. They’re all his supporters, after a fashion. Why would he order them away from Cyad right now? Sypcal’s been poisoned, or something, and he’s the only tactical commander besides me who supports Rynst. That leaves the Captain-Commander and Commander Lhary, and they oppose Rynst.”

“The Majer-Commander left you in Cyad,” Ryalth points out. “And you command the only Mirror Lancers around. Could the others do anything-except have their loyalty tried and risk being killed?”

“Rynst truly expects bloodshed.”

“He expects you to shed it.”

“How soon?”

“Sasyk does not have all the guards yet in Cyad, but he will have what he needs in the days ahead, perhaps less than half an eightday.”

“Will some come by ship?”

“I would think so.”

“Good.” Lorn pauses. “I do not favor what we see.” He shakes his head. “Once I had hoped…”

“Like Alyiakal? It still might happen.”

“I think not, for to preserve Cyad, I will have to shed blood, far too much blood, it would appear from what the glass shows.”

“One can hope otherwise,” Ryalth suggests.

“I will hope, but we must plan for what will come.” Lorn looks back at the glass to call forth another image.