The Mazaar and Lord Gallendris stood at the end of a stone pier, watching the pink waves of Raider’s Bay lapping against the barnacles that crusted the dock. As the wind whipped at the tails of Jannia’s stiff, uniform-like dress, the Mazaar was silent, waiting for her brother to reply. Farek looked up from the barnacles at the layers of clouds that obscured a blurry sun. At last he said, “I still don’t believe it. You really trust Paral?”
Jannia nodded, watching him with narrowed eyes. “I know it’s hard to accept.”
Farek had been working again, the last few weeks, and his financial investigations had brought him back to the warehouse where he used to work. He had been surprised to meet in his sister there, of all places, and the two had shared a meal of clams and dry bread before walking along the harbourfront.
“Tell me what he’s done for us so far,” Farek said. “I know, I know, he’s helping identify Matriarch Belsara’s collaborators.”
“Hmm.” She thought about how to reply for a moment. Her hum was almost lost in the wind; they were far enough out that none of the sailors working in the harbour would hear their words. “You remember the shipments of coin you investigated before leaving Soros? Lord Mavagar withdrew a small fortune and later had House Viotro deposit a similar amount in Matriarch coins?”
Farek nodded. “That doesn’t have anything to do with Belsara,” he said. “Unless she was the one who’s coins Viotro had gained?”
“No, this is unrelated,” Jannia explained. “But Paral was honest about his involvement. Here’s what happened: our Old Empire, the Matriarchs, bought the city of Lo Mallago from the crime Family of Sheld. It cost a huge fortune, as you can imagine, but the game was rigged. A number of investors sent the Grey Brethren a loan of coins, so the religious order could afford the army of mercenaries it later brought down upon the city of Sheld. The Grey Brethren eliminated their enemies, and the fortune for Lo Mallago was reclaimed. To keep the secret, the Matriarchs had to fence their money through lords such as Mavagar and Viotro.”
Farek was staring at her, mouth agape, as she delivered the explanation. “The Matriarchs bought a city?”
The Mazaar only smiled and nodded.
And Farek’s government had swindled their own people to keep the public from seeing what had happened. He scowled. A spray of pink water splashed the arthropods that crusted the pier. He didn’t like this one bit, but he had to believe it. There were too many details working together, and clearly working. “So there really were two Houses opposing us,” Farek said. “And Thrane really wasn’t one of them?”
“According to Paral,” Jannia said. “It’s hard to believe, but it all makes sense. I knew about Lo Mallago, but I didn’t realize how deep the Matriarch’s scheme ran, to reclaim their own investment. We essentially gained a city for free.”
“And a few lords who were willing to plan against their own people were rewarded with small fortunes,” Farek pointed out.
Jannia gave a reluctant bob of her head. “Good and bad. This is good for us, Farek. Especially now that Paral has come clean. The growth of the Old Empire is good for us.”
Farek nodded. If she said it was so, it was so. This was his family, after all, his priority. A drip of salt water landed too close to his mouth, and he wiped it away with a single finger. “And what happened with to the traitor, Belsara, according to Lord Mavagar?” he asked, turning his shoulders to face her.
“Belsara was planning to take over the land,” his sister told him. The subtle wrinkles under her eyes had creased deeper during his time abroad. “She needed loyal supporters in each city, especially here. The Bank needed to belong to Belsara if she even partially succeeded her plans. So House Mavagar and House Viotro were going to take the city from us. They must have been recruited after demonstrating their usefulness during the Lo Mallago scheme.”
Farek blinked. “You never got an offer to work with Belsara instead? That would have been easier than sparking a civil war.”
“I had a few conversations with the spy masters from Noress-That-Was, but nothing transparent,” Jannia explained. “They gauged my loyalty, no doubt. The usual sorts of conversations spies like to have, all vague and witty.” She rolled her eyes.
It seemed like no one liked House Gallendris. Farek couldn’t blame them—everyone knew what was said about bankers. But nonetheless, it would have been nice to have a trustworthy ally. He eyed Jannia—was that all her alliance with Paral was? Wishful thinking?
The wind whipped at them for another few moments. It was warm and humid, blowing down from the Elder Coast across the Bay of Nordos. Farek remembered investigating the two houses. It was his work with Thrane that had brought Viotro down, to confirm Mavagar’s prior betrayal and provide Farek with contact to Erril. Erril, in turn, had given him the name of the House of Kiaraka, and warnings of the Organization too. Farek still had the golden fox ring, to contact the Organization.
“And what is Thrane up to?” Farek asked. His name had been oddly absent from news during Farek’s voyage.
Jannia shrugged. “As far as I know, his usual industries, his untoward habits, and his usual ruthlessness. Paral has listed him with a group of fifteen slighted lords who might have motive for the poisoning of Lord Reeyan.”
Someone called toward them, and Farek looked. It was Dallan, one of their financial advisors, who had been searching for them in the warehouse. Jannia raised a hand to wave back to him. Dallan started along the shore toward them. Farek wasn’t done yet though. “So what’s the motive? Fifteen lords wanted one man dead?”
“He was a serial womanizer,” Jannia said. “He’s slept with all fifteen of their wives, according to an argument that broke out at a party a week before Reeyan’s death. Three were involved in the heated exchange, but it did not become violent. He did turn up dead, though.”
“Wait,” Farek said. “All of this is about Reeyan’s bed habits?”
“Yes, what else?” Jannia asked.
“The Organization,” Farek said. “It operates behind the scenes in Var Nordos. Assassins, spies, smugglers, all for the right measure of coin.”
Jannia winced. “What?”
“I heard about it from Erril, when I learned of the House of Kiaraka,” explained Farek quickly. “Lord Thrane knows about them for at least the last six months. Taking down the Organization should be our goal, not dealing with a murder that probably should have happened.”
Dallan had arrived, but was waved to wait outside of earshot as the Mazaar absorbed the new information. She had certainly not known. “I’ll have to ask Paral about that,” she said.
The mineral water splashed up from Raider’s Bay, urged on by the gale, and nearly drenched one of Farek’s boots. “And I’ll ask Thrane,” he told her.
Jannia touched his arm before he turned away. The wind tore her hair in front of her eyes and nearly stole her next words. “Be careful.”
Then Farek, plagued by the web of connections and causes, loyalties and let-downs, marched across the pier. He passed Dallan with the slightest nod. He would succeed against the Organization where he had failed against the House of Kiaraka. He had to.