Robert Hughes - The Wizard in Waiting

So devastating was his entrance that no one dared to speak for several seconds. Then there was the casual clapping of a single pair of hands, followed by a low chuckle. Admon Faye was amused. “Very good, Flayh.

Most impressive.”

“You were asking for me previously, slaver better said, you demanded my presence. Am I one of your slaves, Admon Faye, to come running at your command?” Flayh scowled, and threw his red cloak wide. “I am Flayh the power shaper The words rang around the walls of the room, and echoed off the high ceiling.

Admon Faye glanced around with studied calm. “Pity,” he said after a moment. “I’d expected a thunderclap after such a declaration.”

Flayh’s arms dropped slowly to his sides, and he smiled. “I’m working on that. And with the progress I’m making, I expect to have it soon.”

“Good, good,” the slaver encouraged. “Since we’ve gotten that out of the way, can we get down to business? I do believe that it was you who summoned me here, and not the other way around. Or would you prefer to posture some more beforehand?”

Those standing next to Admon Faye saw him jerk slightly, then watched as his jaw clenched and his fingers formed into fists. Flayh was smiling grimly, his eyes locked into those of the slaver. There was silence in the hall until Flayh’s body went slack, and Admon Faye gave a great sigh. Flayh had been attempting to draw fear out of the ugly slaver. He’d failed but just barely.

“So,” the power shaper said quietly.

Admon Faye wiped his sweating forehead. “So,” he agreed. In that contest a mutual respect had formed between the two men. Ironically, no one else in the room really understood what had happened.

“You have buried your fears deep, Admon Faye. I couldn’t pull them to the surface. Quite.”

“And you, Lord Flayh, are much more than an aging merchant.” Flayh noted with approval the slaver’s respectful mode of address. Admon Faye had a host of negative qualities, Flayh thought to himself, but stupidity wasn’t one of them.

The thought brought Pezi to Flayh’s mind. “Nephew, since you seem to be momentarily out of trouble, why don’t you seize the opportunity and go change your suit?” Though asked as a question, Pezi recognized Flayh’s statement was a command. Guarding his stomach from Bronwynn, he stepped around the girl and out of the room. Flayh shrugged at Admon Faye. “Pezi’s making a single-handed attempt to give all merchants a reputation for slob-bishness. I hope he’s at least amused you.”

“Oh, that he has,” the slaver chuckled, and he stalked across the room to sit on a bench at Flayh’s table. The power shaper climbed down to join him. Admon Faye noticed with surprise Flayh’s small stature, but immediately put the thought from his mind. He had learned long ago that height is not the measure of a man particularly if he’s a sorcerer. “I notice you aren’t wearing the colors of your house ..

.”

“Indeed, I’ve abandoned the blue and lime of Ognadzu except for state occasions. This feels more fitting to my individual tastes.” Flayh raised his hand and a servant far across the room scrambled toward the kitchen.

“And yet you continue to call yourself a merchant…”

“Of course. You’re a rogue and a brigand and a cutthroat, yet you remain a businessman throughout. There’s nothing inconsistent there, nor is there any in my being both wizard and merchant. These vocations, these skills they’re nothing more than the tools with which we impress ourselves on the world. So let’s bargain together, you and I. I assume you’ve brought the girl?”

Admon Faye beckoned toward Bronwynn, and the two nearest slavers seized her under her arms and hoisted her over the benches to stand at Ftayh’s side. The power shaper turned to look her over thoroughly.

“So this is the famous Bronwynn, daughter of Talith of Chaomonous. I had hoped to meet you long ago, child, but my fool of a nep kew bungled the job. You’ve cost me dearly and, were I less forgiving, you’d suffer for it. But I’ve decided to make you Queen instead.” Flayh jerked his head. “Throw her in the pit ”

“Ahhh ” Admon Faye grunted, raising his hand, and the two slavers who held Bronwynn froze. Flayh frowned, and Admon Faye smiled. “I’ve found that I enjoy the little girl’s company. She stays with me or none of us stay.”

“You’re giving orders? In my house?”

“The girl is my captive…”

“Whom I ordered seized.”

“Freed by my skill and knowledge,” Admon Faye roared. Then his voice softened. “What’s the matter, Flayh. Don’t you trust me?” he asked sarcastically.

Flayh stared at him. Then he, too, smiled. “Of course I do. It’s the girl I don’t trust.” He waved an arm. “Take her away,” he muttered, and Bronwynn was escorted out of the hall. Flayh’s eyes jerked back to meet Admon Faye’s. “And what if she runs?”

Admon Faye chuckled. “She won’t run away. Where would she go?”

“To the castle of Dorlyth mod Karis, of course. The father of her boy lover.”

“Ah yes, you mean Rosha mod Dorlyth.” Admon Faye was familiar with the family. “Actually, I’d rather welcome another encounter with young Rosha,” he said. “His sword left several new scars on my face.”

“Why should you care?” Flayh sneered. “Who could possibly tell?”

Admon Faye’s eyes flashed. “My respect does not entitle you to comment on my appearance, Flayh. Mock me, and I’ll kill you.” The statement was so frank that Flayh was shocked.

“No one threatens me like ”

“No one comments on my features!” Admon Faye snarled, rising to crouch over the table.

Flayh looked him in the face, then shrugged. “Nor would I. The girl is your responsibility. But I warn you if she slips away I hold you accountable, and should anyone seek to rescue her from us, I depend upon your blade!”

“So be it.” The slaver nodded, eager to get on to other matters. “The plan is simple. I assassinate Ligne, and place Bronwynn on the throne.

I’m doing that for myself Ligne has become as much a bother to me as she is to you. I understand you will profit from the move as well?”

“I will profit greatly from it. Jagd and the merchant house of Uda have monopolized all business in Chaomon-ous that mudgecurdle. How could I have trusted him?”

“You didn’t,” Admon Faye chuckled. “You thought you could control him.”

“So I did. I assume he’s still living at the palace?”

“Under the warm protection of Queen Ligne, yes, or he’d be in his grave already. He’s been cutting into my markets as well as yours. I assume we’ll plan to assassinate Jagd,too?”

“Perhaps that won’t be necessary.” Flayh muttered. “I’ve summoned a meeting of the Council of Elders of the merchant houses. Unless he’s willing to be stripped of his position, he’s obliged to attend.”

“You think he’ll come? Knowing your feelings?”

“What has he to gain by staying sealed up inside the Imperial House?

He’ll have to move against me sometime, Admon Faye. The question is when. I think he’ll come.”

“Which brings us to something that greatly interests me.” Admon Faye smiled, lacing his fingers together and placing his hands on the table between them. “What do I get from you?”

“Of course, you’ve guessed it already, or you wouldn’t be here.” Flayh also smiled. “As all of us know, the dragon is 1 dead. That means the slave market has dropped off considerably, threatening your business.” Admon Faye nodded. “It also means that anyone can pass Dragonsgate, which is certainly threatening ours. We merchant families have held a monopoly on all trade for so long, I’m afraid we’ve become rather used to it. I, for one, don’t relish the idea of