Scion of Cyador

XLVI

The Emperor sits on the less massive malachite and silver throne that graces the smaller audience chamber. Behind his right shoulder, in her chair, sits his consort. Before him stands Bluoyal’mer, the Emperor’s Merchanter Advisor. Save for the guards, and a senior Imperial Enumerator in blue and green, with the gold slashes on his sleeves, who stands by one of the guards by the door, no others grace the chamber.

“You summoned me, Your Mightiness?” The Merchanter Advisor’s voice is clear and firm, and a faint smile follows his words.

“I did.” The Emperor Toziel leans forward in the malachite-and-silver throne. “Did you not affirm that you would support the Emperor’s Code, Bluoyal’mer?”

“Yes, Your Mightiness.” Bluoyal’s eyes do not meet the Emperor’s.

“It has come to my attention…and to the attention of the Hand, as well…There is a relative of yours, some sort of cousin. I believe his name is Flutak…”

“I am not certain I could recall all those who claim me as cousin, Your Mightiness.”

“Perhaps not, but you should recall this cousin. The Emperor’s Enumerators visited your trading house this morning, at the request of the Hand.” Toziel nods, and the senior enumerator in official blue and green, steps forward and hands several sheets of paper to the Emperor. The Emperor takes them with a faint smile, then continues. “These sections of ledgers offer that your house has paid a number of golds to a representative in Biehl.” The Emperor nods, this time toward the guard by the rear door, who opens it.

The First Magus steps through the doors to the audience chamber and walks forward, to stand several paces to the left of the Merchanter Advisor.

A thin sheen of perspiration is beginning to form on Bluoyal’s forehead.

“I trust you will not mind the observation of the First Magus,” suggests Toziel mildly.

“No, sire.”

“According to your own enumerators, your house does not have a representative in Biehl. Yet the ledgers show a number of payments to such a representative. Do you deny such?”

Bluoyal’s eyes flicker from the Emperor to the First Magus before he speaks. “There may have been such payments, sire, if the ledgers show such.”

“Did you know about these payments?”

“Yes, sire.” The voice of the Merchanter Advisor is resigned, flat.

“Were those payments made to this cousin of yours, this Flutak?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Were they made for the purpose of obtaining lower tariffs on goods landed at Biehl?”

“They were made for his services, sire.”

Toziel frowns, pausing. “Precisely what services did you require of the senior Emperor’s Enumerator in Biehl?”

“His assistance in assuring that cargoes were handled quickly and well, sire.” Bluoyal’s voice remains calm.

“Are you suggesting that the tariffing is not handled quickly and well without such gratuities? Or that your cousin is corrupt enough that he must be paid by the Emperor’s Merchanter Advisor to do his duty most properly?”

“All is sometimes not as it should be, sire.”

“That is most certainly true. Especially in this case.” Toziel’s eyes, ringed with black, focus on the merchanter. “Do you deny that you bribed a senior enumerator, even while you serve as the Emperor’s Merchanter Advisor?”

“I did not ask for special treatment for the house, sire.” Sweat has begun to darken the armpits of Bluoyal’s tunic, and the shimmering haze on his forehead is more pronounced.

“Did you bribe him, yes or no?”

Bluoyal glances sideways at Chyenfel, who continues to watch the Merchanter Advisor. “Yes, sire…but without ill intention.”

“At times, Bluoyal,” Toziel says quietly, “intention does not matter. You are hereby dismissed as the Emperor’s Merchanter Advisor. Your dismissal will be conveyed to the Traders’ Council, and to all the clanless traders as well, along with the reasons for my action. I will request three candidates from the Council to consider for the next Emperor’s Merchanter Advisor.”

Bluoyal drops his head.

“You may go.” Toziel’s words are like ice.

Toziel waits until both Chyenfel and Bluoyal have left the chamber before rising. The Empress follows him back to her salon, where he sits, carefully and slowly, upon the white divan. For a time, he does not speak.

“You disliked replacing Bluoyal,” Ryenyel finally says.

“I would that I had not been required to do such,” he replies. “Not at this time.”

“All the merchanter houses have such arrangements somewhere, my dear,” offers Ryenyel.

“I know…. the larger ones, at least, and were I to act against all who do such, I would have no merchanters, or rebellion and chaos upon my hands.” Toziel shrugs tiredly. “Yet…when it is spread all over the Palace of Eternal Light…and across Cyad, that my own merchanter advisor has corrupted the senior enumerator of a port…?”

“You must act. And you did.” Ryenyel smiles sadly. “I liked Bluoyal, but unless he flees quickly, he will perish in the dark. He has made enemies, and he has no protection now.”

The Emperor lowers his head, and massages the tight muscles in his neck with his left hand. “Who will they send me as candidates?”

“Vyanat’mer, Veljan’mer, and either Tasjan’mer, or more probably, one of the lesser clan heads, perhaps Kernys’mer or another.”

“The lady trader?”

Ryenyel shakes her head. “Ryalor House is far too recent, too small, and too untested. And the traders would not advance a woman.”

“If those be the candidates…” Toziel shakes his head. “Vyanat’mer is the one I must choose.”

“That is why those will be the candidates,” prophesies the Empress. “After this and all the scheming, none of the merchanters will trust Bluoyal’s clan, especially if Denys’mer is his successor. Few outside the merchanters will trust Tasjan and the Dyjani, not with the greenshirts Sasyk trains. The Jekseng and Kysan are too weak…”

“Vyanat’s house will also act with more care.”

“One trusts so. For a time.”

Toziel nods slowly. “Is it not always so?”

The Empress smiles sadly.