Scion of Cyador

LVI

At the sound of the door opening, Kharl turns, a welcoming smile upon his face as he advances across the fourth-floor balcony of the west wing of the Palace of Eternal Light.

The man who steps onto the sunstone floor tiles of the balcony is muscularly wiry, with black hair streaked with gray. His eyes, a pale and piercing blue, fix on the dancing green orbs of the Second Magus. He wears shimmercloth blues and bows. “Honored Second Magus.”

“Honored Merchanter Advisor,” returns Kharl.

“You suggested that it might be better to meet informally.” Vyanat gestures around the empty balcony and smiles. “Most informal. Neither furnishings, nor obvious eavesdroppers. You will pardon me, honored Kharl’elth, if I lack the polish and the obscuring language of my predecessor. I am a plain-spoken trader. What do you wish?” He slips toward the chest-high cupridium railing, where he leans forward into the slight breeze. “It is rather pleasant here. The air is not only warm, but fresh.”

“Fresh, it is, and sometimes there is much to be said for forthrightness,” replies the red-haired Second Magus. “This may be such a time.” He smiles. “As with many in Cyad, there are certain aspects of my life over which I have no control, yet about which I must confess that I have certain…concerns.”

“As you say, most of us find that to be true. In what particular does this concern me? You would not have requested a meeting with me if it were not a matter of intrigue or trade.” Vyanat smiles. “And if you did, you are wasting time for both of us.”

“As you may know,” Kharl begins, looking out across the winter-gray waters of the harbor, his eyes looking into the distance, “my eldest son is consorted to a healer, and she is from a most distinguished family. Her father is Kien’elth, of whom you are likely to have heard.”

Vyanat nods, waiting.

“And one of her brothers is likely to become a first-level adept magus in a season or two, if not sooner. The other was not destined for the life of a magus, but has become quite well-known as a most effective Mirror Lancer battle commander.”

“And the one who inadvertently revealed my predecessor’s bribery schemes,” Vyanat observes. “For which the good Majer-Commander decided to reward him by assigning him as commanding officer of the most-attacked lancer outpost in the Grass Hills.”

“That appears to be true, as you say,” Kharl continues, “if a Mirror Lancer matter. This young officer consorted himself to a young merchanter, and did so without the knowledge and consent of his family. A true love match, one might say. I have the smallest of requests, you understand, just that I would appreciate anything you might do to ensure that nothing that the lady merchanter does might be construed to reflect, shall we say, adversely, upon her family.”

“Or upon you and your son, or your daughter and her new consort-to-be, by extension,” Vyanat replies. “I think I understand your position absolutely, most honored Second Magus.”

“You understand, honored Merchanter Advisor, that with the growing…link with chaos effected by Kien, and the comparative inexperience of young Vernt, his magus son, I feel a certain responsibility…”

“I am most certain you do, honored Second Magus, and I will assuredly do what I can to ensure that Ryalor House abides fully with the Emperor’s Code.”

“One must look out for the consorts in one’s family…”

“I do appreciate your feeling for family and your concerns. You need say no more.” Vyanat bows slightly. “And since I am, as I said, a plain-spoken trader, unless you have other concerns, I must, alas, return to the Plaza, for being an advisor to His Mightiness does little to ensure that one’s business continues as it should.” He pauses. “Especially since His Mightiness and the Hand have made it most clear that merchanters must earn their golds in trading goods and not favors.” Vyanat bows once more, then steps away.

Kharl does not frown until much later, well after the balcony door closes.