One of the few benefits of Farek’s new administrative position was his proximity to the family records. The prince of Soros didn’t quite realize it at first—after all, who considered a dusty roomful of self-published books was a positive?—but after a few weeks hunched over a desk, his wandering thoughts had led him to an insight. In an old record book, he found mention of Master Gravagan. The details were a little vague, but just as the sorcerer had told him many months ago, Gravagan had helped both Farek’s mother and his mother’s father.
For grandfather Gallendris, a prophesy had aided him in defeating an adversary, House Odgren, before he even became Mazaar. That House was now one of the lesser ones in the city, barely even registered as proper nobility. For Farek’s mother, Usarra, Gallendris had offered salvation from threat of death, just as he had to Farek.
It was vaguely concerning that both Usarra and her father were heirs of their generation, while Gravagan had spoken to Farek, not Jannia, the head of the House.
He was reading through another record of Gravagan’s interactions with his heritage when a servant handed him a rolled scroll. There was a blank seal, to indicate it had not been read yet. He snapped it with his index finger and thumb, and read the page quickly. Thrane wanted to meet again, at the usual place.
Farek wasn’t worried about leaving his seat on the job. The chances of Jannia checking in on him were slim, and the chances of her caring were just as minute. It took him less than an hour to reach the Royal Whale once more.
Thrane was leaning against one of the support beams on the way across the common room. Farek brushed by him with a wink and put his hands on the counter to place his order—they always started with a drink. While the bartender opened a keg faucet, Farek looked over at his fellow lord and hesitated. The man’s face was flushed, and his arms practically danced at his sides. “What’s happened to my man, Koribar? My mercenary?”
Farek blinked, looked back at the working barkeep as a layer of foam was split off with a stick. He looked back at Thrane as the drink was set down in front of him and tilted his head. “What?”
“I told him to start keeping an eye,” Thrane forced his voice to drop to a whisper, “on House Mavagar, after we beat Viotro into submission. And next I hear, him and three of his men are ushered off the street by Gallendris guards! Where have they been taken?”
“Wait, wait,” Farek mumbled. “How do you know it’s my guards?”
“Two of my servants were in the market at the time. They weren’t close enough to hear a word, but they saw Gallendris uniforms.”
Farek exhaled loudly, and took a sip of his drink around his breath. “I think someone is trying to pit us against one another,” he stammered, and pulling Thrane away from the bar.
“Well, it’s worked. You got me to bring Viotro to the table for whatever secret deals you’ve arranged with them by having me deliver the letter, and now you’re throwing me away. Find who has my mercenaries if not you, or this partnership will end poorly.”
“I need more to go on,” Farek said, raising his shoulders.
Thrane bit his lip impatiently. “My servants followed them the whole way up to Coin Hill before losing them at a crowded checkpoint through the borough gate. So one of the great houses has them. My man won’t talk, but he also won’t be useful to me again, after this.” He shifted on his feet, furiously.
“Won’t be useful to you?”
“How will I know he hasn’t been turned? …If he’s even still alive.” Lord Thrane scratched his beard, then jabbed on finger against Farek’s shoulder. “Found out what happened.” With a curse beneath his breath, the old man spun on his boot heels and marched out of the tavern, startling a man who had just opened the door.
Farek scratched his shoulder unconsciously as he finished his beer. This was gravely concerning. Someone knew he was working with Lord Thrane; it was the only explanation for how they would know to pit the two against each other. What now? Farek wondered. How to respond… He supposed the first step would be to track down the ‘guards’ that had been spotted. Stolen uniforms perhaps?
Captain Vergo was counting coins on his desk when Farek found him, back up on Coin Hill. Farek phrased his question carefully, simply describing the marketplace scene as it had been presented to him. The middle-aged man frowned, counted a few more brass coins, and then said, “You’d best speak with your sister, the Mazaar. I’m not supposed to speak about this.”
An anchor took hold of Farek’s gut. Damnit… my House did arrest the mercs… He ran a hand through his hair, mumbled something polite to Vergo, and backed out of his office. His hurried pace through the corridors of their estate did little to sooth his anxiety, nor did the painting of his mother he passed in that last hallway. Gravagan had told them truth, but his words to Farek were coincidental, not prophetic. Had he known that Farek would partner with the corrupt lord?
Jannia Gallendris sat at her desk, filling in a document for a money transfer when Farek quietly opened her door and stepped through. As he closed it, she asked, “Can I help you, Farek?”
She hadn’t even looked up. Farek sat down at one of the three chairs across from her desk and leaned his head on his hand. “Know anything about our guards kidnapping some mercenaries, sweet sister dear?”
That got her attention, at least for a raising of her dark blue eyes. “What? How do you know about that?”
“A grouchy bird told me. What are you doing?”
“Damn people can’t keep their mouths shut. Do they forget how much they get paid?” she asked, rising to her feet. She tossed her quill down to the tabletop and looked him in the eye. “Everyone’s known that Lord Thrane is as corrupt as they come in Soros for years, but I’ve finally stumbled on something that might warrant action against him. I picked up his mercenaries to be questioned, to confirm the proof I’ve discovered.”
“And what did you discover?” Farek asked.
“What’s this matter to you, dear brother? Your job isn’t to protect this house, it’s to manage our finances. This is why I gave you the position—I needed more time to stay on top of this, and now I can.”
Farek bristled. “If you think so low of me as to believe I don’t care what you do, what it takes to protect my family, then you’ve made a grave error thinking an idiot should be in charge of finances. If something is wrong, I want to know.”
Jannia blinked and extended her fingers out from her. “I’m sorry, Farek. You’re right. You’re not like our other sister—you do what I ask of you with dedication.” The Mazaar paced around the desk and leaned against its front, to face Farek closely.
The prince bit his tongue. Depending on what her explanation was—if she had solid proof—he would come clean with her.
“About one month ago, House Mavagar deposited exactly the amount of coin that Paral withdrew while I was absent from the city. A small fortune to be certain, especially for a ‘donation’ to the Atmos Septi. But he returned the coin as he had told you he would, like an investment. Later the same week, House Thrane deposited a nearly identical amount. So I looked a little closer into those transactions.”
Farek tapped his knee as the anchor in his gut caught a rock as deep as it could.
“All of the coins deposited were stamped for the Three Matriarchs. Not rare in our bank, but not as common as our own coin. Even Lord Thrane’s deposit.” She folded her arms, frowning. “So, I’ve come to near certainty that House Thrane and House Mavagar are plotting against us, to overthrow our hold on Soros. I’m hoping Thrane’s mercenaries will reveal more of this to me.”
He’s as rotten as I first thought! Farek thought. It was a damn good thing he hadn’t his full trust in Lord Thrane. “So Mavagar used Thrane to launder the money from whatever it was that Mavagar did with that original withdrawal?”
Jannia nodded. “I have no clue what it was. There’s been infighting on the Great Isle, as much as is normal, and the Grey Brethren spreading their reach… Queen Zanna the Just was assassinated… There’s just too many things that this kind of money could have stirred up abroad. It could also have been from an internal source—the Three Matriarchs are our superiors, but it’s a delicate hierarchy.”
Farek leaned back in his chair to think about all that this meant. There was plenty of Matriarch coinage in their treasuries, but it was the similar payment sizes that connected with the stamps to create such a compelling story. What concerned Farek more than the nature of the coins themselves was what he had done since: had they crushed House Viotro for some nefarious end? Jannia wouldn’t have even double checked the transactions this closely if it had not been for her absence when Paral Mavagar made his first move. At last, he spoke. “Jannia, I have to tell you a story. Have you heard of Gravagan?”
“No,” she replied.
“He’s a magician,” he explained. “He helped Mother, when she was younger, and her father too. You can check the records—it’s true.” She nodded for him to move on, and he did. He didn’t share with her the full prophesy, just that he’d been urged to keep an eye on Thrane. She didn’t seem bothered when he confessed that he’d let an assassin loose an arrow into the audience and agreed that it would have been a simple solution to the potential threats that Thrane now posed.
When Farek mentioned the assassin, Jannia raised a finger. “I’ve heard rumours you saw someone with a glove that could paralyze someone. Is this related?”
“Yes,” Farek scoffed, and continued his story by dismissing that detail. “It’s the least of our concerns now,” he said. He launched into the second part of his tale, the decline of Viotro. She accepted his explanation of why he was tempted to trust Thrane, after the lord had known details that the son of the slain man gave Farek in secret.
As Jannia realized that the shift in politics with House Viotro was Farek’s doing, she pressed her fingers to her temples. After a moment, she sighed and visibly tried to move on. “You may have been helping our enemy. What did you get out of the plot against Viotro and what did Thrane?”
“Thrane got a fortune. Bribe money, but enough to cripple Viotro. And I got some spies, and information,” Farek said. He grimaced. It was bad news. “On the bright side, we know at least one House we can trust as an ally going forward. Albeit, a weakened House.”
Jannia was caught on something else, and tilted her head as she ignored him and thought through her own idea. “How much did Thrane get, specifically?”
“Two and a half thousand Grey Sea coins,” Farek said. While House Gallendris minted its own, more valuable coins, the Grey Sea currency was the more common rate for discussing moneys.
His sister folded her hands, almost prayer-like. “What if the money Lord Thrane deposited half a month ago was the money he extorted from Viotro? The numbers add up.”
“Do you mean that Thrane wasn’t financially able to deposit that amount?” Farek asked.
“No, no, he’s rich already,” Jannia said. “Mavagar withdrew twelve hundred Gallendris coin all those months ago, right? That’s the same figure, it converts to what, two thousand four hundred and fifty or something thereabouts?”
“I don’t follow,” Farek mumbled. Despite being a banker, he’d spent most of his free time trying to not think about work. This new season of life had him regretting it.
“What if Lord Thrane only had the Matriarch-stamped coins because he extorted them from House Viotro? Not Mavagar or his own treasury?” Jannia asked. Her posed question hung in the air for a moment as they wrestled with the twisting change of loyalties. “What if Lord Thrane honestly thinks that House Mavagar and House Viotro are working together, and he’s right?”
Farek leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “So, either I’ve helped an enemy cripple an ally, or I’ve helped an ally defeat an enemy.” He chuckled. “So, your proof has helped us learn nothing, at the end of the day.”
“No,” Jannia said. “We know for certain that House Mavagar is up to something.”
“So we focus on Paral.”
Jannia nodded. “What do you think Thrane would do if we released his mercenaries now?”
Farek could only sigh sadly and admit, “I think we may have ruined his trust in our House. He might eliminate his own men when they get back to him, and he may refuse to meet with me again.”
“Tell him the truth,” Jannia said. “Tell him the whole truth. If there’s any chance of him believing your story, or trusting you again, it’ll only be if you give him that. Truth will bring out the best returns… Farek, keep me in the loop from now on. Please.”
“I will,” Farek said. “Release the mercs, and I’ll set up an appointment with that… grouchy bird, first thing.” He ran a hand through his long hair once more and opened the door out of the Mazaar’s office.