CXXXIX

Vyanat steps into Vyel’s office, leaving the door open behind him.

“I wondered where you had gone,” offers Vyel. “You disappeared this morning after that Mirror Lancer officer left. I thought you were remarkably pleasant, given his insolence, but I suppose you have to deal with the lady trader too often to say what you felt.”

“She is most astute, and one ignores her at one’s peril,” Vyanat replies. “She says little, and often seems demure. She is not.” Vyanat laughs once, but the laugh is forced.

“Where were you?”

“I needed to attend to a few matters,” returns the older brother. He pauses, then asks, almost casually, “What in chaos were you thinking?”

“You believe that magus-descended butcher who thinks with his blade?” questions Vyel. “He wouldn’t know an invoice from a bill of lading or a weight-and-balance form.”

“Actually, Vyel, I do believe him. I wish I did not. First, the Lady Ryalth was with him. Her bearing and her presence mean she believes him. Second, I did check on a few matters. Almost a score of bravos that do the sort of ‘work’ that Majer Lorn mentioned, have either appeared dead on the streets or vanished. Yet, no other merchanter houses report any problems. I am not stupid. The Magi’i do not use bravos. They don’t have to. The Palace does not. Nor do the Mirror Lancers, except for perhaps the Captain-Commander. Third, Majer Lorn could have turned you into a corpse without even raising a sweat, and without your body ever being found. He’s done it to far better and more talented men than you. Fourth, he was right about the Hypolya. I’ve known that for years, but Father asked me to forbear unless you made another error such as that. This is worse than he could have foreseen, and he had few illusions about you. Oh…and you seem to forget that Majer Lorn was bright enough about trade to figure out what Bluoyel and his cousin had done in Biehl, and he did so in a matter of days.”

“So…why didn’t Majer Lorn just remove me the way you say he did the others?”

“You are stupid, dear brother. Because he wanted me to know, and to act against Tasjan. I will not. Not now, but I cannot fail to act against you, because you have jeopardized Hyshrah House. Again.”

“You don’t have the guts, for all your talk, Vyanat. Or you would have dumped me overboard years ago.”

“I thought there was a chance you would learn-and I gave my word to Father. All you have learned is that deception and deceit bring quick returns.” Vyanat gestures behind him and three archers appear, and step into the smaller study nearly silently. They have shafts ready to nock.

“What you-and Tasjan-have failed to learn,” Vyanat continues, “is that any merchanting built on deception will fail in the end, and at a far higher cost. One of the matters I attended to was meeting with others in the house.”

Vyel looks at the archers. “You don’t even have the guts to act yourself.”

“I have no intention of soiling my hands further. My heart and spirit, perhaps, but not my hands.” Vyanat looks at the middle archer. “Make it quick.”

The small study is filled with the muted sounds of bowstrings and arrows striking.

Vyanat stands, impassive, and remains in the study, alone, long after the archers have departed. His eyes are reddened and bleak.

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