The heavy wooden doors of the Mazaar’s office swung open as a servant let Farek enter. He’d been working hard the day before to catch up on his responsibilities, but could not put off informing his sister of Lord Thrane’s grumbling exit two days past. Though he was entering her office, she spoke first.
“How did things go with Lord Thrane?” Jannia asked, tossing her quill down on a scrap of ink-stained cloth.
Farek slumped down into the chair next to her desk. Past both arms of his seat was a window. The sun streamed in one, as the sun rose over Soros, and cast their shadows against the other. “Not well,” he replied.
“How not well?”
“He’s not openly against us, but he didn’t exactly buy the truth,” Farek said. “He’s skeptical and untrusting now, and advised me to make sure I tell him my plans so we don’t get in one another’s way.”
“Damn,” Jannia said, gently kicking one of the legs of her desk with a thud. “Understandable, I suppose, but an unfortunate consequence.”
“I’ve got some questions,” Farek said. He scratched his cheek. His sandy-brown moustache would need a trim soon enough, and whiskers were popping out on his cheeks. His sister beckoned him to speak them, so he started with, “Do we know what it was that Mavagar was investing in, with either Thrane or Viotro as his accomplice? Where did all this money come from?”
“There’s no reason to assume the Matriarchs were involved at all,” Jannia said, “Just because it was their coin. There’s a plethora of available sources—House Mavagar is among the top five wealthiest in Soros. There’s no law requiring them to reveal the source of the income either. They run major mining operations on Var Nordos and in some locations on the mainland, as well as offering security services here in Soros. Both of these would account for that degree of income. They also handle the investments of some less-connected Houses.”
“So it could be legitimate money?” Farek asked. “Why would Paral feel the need to fence it through a second house?”
Jannia shrugged. “Lord Mavagar could have acquired it abroad as well, through any number of trade deals with foreign merchants, or through plots with other factions. A number of cities have been through major shifts over the last few months, such as Sheld, or the Eye of Maga. Revolutions are a pence-a-piece in central Radregar.”
With a sigh, Farek dismissed this line of questioning. He was not going to determine from where Mavagar’s small fortune had appeared by questioning his sister. Besides, Paral Mavagar had always been smart enough to hide that sort of information. He won the bets he placed and ran his House better than his bedridden father ever had.
“Maybe the best plan is to play friendly first,” Farek suggested. “Like I did with Lord Thrane.”
“There’s a banquet coming up, hosted by Paral at their estate,” Jannia said. “I can’t attend—or, rather if I did, I’d be watched even more closely than you. It’s a security risk.”
“I know,” Farek replied. “When’s that supposed to be?”
Jannia flipped through a few pages of her notebook, revealed dense, ink-smudged notes. “The 27th.”
Farek chuckled. He’d been planning to see Silea on the 25th, but considered his options. She would probably enjoy being a guest at such a fancy party. “I’ll attend,” he told his sister. With a wink he added, “Plus one.”
“Will the plus one get in the way of your… er… spying?” Jannia asked, smiling.
Farek put on a face of mock contempt. “Please,” he said. “Spying on the first date? Paral Mavagar deserves better than that. First appearance is purely platonic.” He stood up as she snickered, and headed for the door. He called back, over his shoulder, “I’ll report back to you when I learn more.”