Michael Stackpole - Chartomancy

The guards had conducted him to a small room with cedar paneling. Blond reed mats covered part of the floor, but had been edged in red cloth that married them to the redwood floors. On one wall hung a rice-paper painting in black ink with red commentary. The simple representation of a cedar provided a quiet dignity and made the room seem even more of an intimate place.

Then the paper-paneled door had slid back to admit Grand Minister Rislet Peyt and a tea-master. The Grand Minister bowed in greeting, then he and Keles bowed to the tea-master. Keles would have towered over Rislet, and certainly weighed about a third more, yet the young man’s presence filled the room. He’d shaved his head so it glowed a soft gold that contrasted well with his deep blue eyes. His robe, decorated with the Desei Hawk, was likewise blue and secured with a white sash.

The only sound in the room came from the preparation of the tea, which the tea-master poured for each of them. He then bowed and withdrew. The Grand Minister offered Keles his cup, then they both drank and sat in quiet contemplation of the tea.

After a respectful silence, the Grand Minister put his cup down. “I take great pleasure in your visit, Master Anturasi. Your work has transformed Felarati. The people are pleased, as is my master.”

“Thank you, Grand Minister.” Keles took another sip of his tea, then set his cup down. “You have had word from the Prince?”

“Not recently, but tragic news travels more swiftly than good. Had ill befallen him, we would know.”

“So then, things are going well?”

The Grand Minister nodded solemnly. “Just over a week ago, our exalted leader met and defeated a Helosundian host nine times the size of his army. He is advancing on Vallitsi and will crush the Helosundian rebels once and for all.”

“Very good news for the Prince.” Keles smiled slightly to hide his sinking heart. If Helosunde truly were pacified, it would make escaping Deseirion much more difficult. Instead of just heading south, he might have to head out west, then sail on the Dark Sea to the Gold River and down to Moriande. It would lengthen the journey intolerably, and force him to reconsider the supplies they would need to get away.

The Grand Minister smiled. “I shall see to it that your congratulations are conveyed to His Highness.”

“You are too kind.”

“I fear you have not thought so, Master Anturasi, which is why I invited you here.” Rislet smoothed his robe over his thighs. “I have heard that you have voiced dismay over the fact that you are not getting all of the stone and brick you require.”

“It’s true.” Keles kept his voice even. “I know that not as much stone is coming from the quarries because there are too few wagons to transport it, but I was once getting ten an hour. Now I get seven, and yet ten pass through Westgate. I’m told the other three have been diverted to a project I know nothing about.”

The cartographer watched the minister’s reaction to his lie. When he’d been invited to visit, Jasai had coached him on how to deal with Rislet. “You can tell him what you know, but you cannot accuse him of lying. He is a minister, so lying is taken as given. You must approach everything as if it is a misunderstanding, and allow him to clarify. If the clarification does not satisfy you, ask for further clarification.”

“Ah, I see where a misunderstanding has occurred, Master Anturasi.” The Grand Minister smiled. “It is entirely my fault. Though I have done well in the ministries, and have risen far further than I ever imagined I would, I fail to communicate as well as I should. You see, I meant to ask for your help with my project and while my subordinates swung into action, I had not yet scheduled this meeting. Please, forgive my lack of manners.”

“It is forgiven. You will appreciate my alarm because I had intended the stone and brick you have taken to build a small stronghold on the river. It would secure the new houses until the walls can be extended.”

“We appreciated this, Master Anturasi, but it seems that our Prince’s successes make the likelihood of an attack on Felarati very small.” He opened his hands. “His successes are creating another demand. We have diverted the stone and brick to begin construction of a new ministry building. There we will house those who will help oversee both the conquered territories and the vast new holdings your work has opened up for us.”

Keles nodded. “And you would like my help with this?”

“So kind of you to offer, Master Anturasi.” The man gave him a simple smile. “We hoped we could ask you to integrate our building into your plans. I was especially certain you would undertake a construction of this nature if you realized how events were progressing. We wish for our building to fit seamlessly with what you have already created.”

Keles picked up his cup and sipped more tea. He might not have been sophisticated in the ways of ministers and bureaucracy, but Jasai had been correct. The Anturasi family had moved beyond the point where ministers could manage them. This attempt to hide the ministry building within his plans, however, was not so much sophisticated as childish. If Pyrust returned and objected, the ministers would place the blame on Keles. They would say they could not countermand Keles since the Prince had given him a free hand. If Pyrust approved, then Keles would gain praise for foresight, and the ministers would get their new building. Control of Pyrust’s burgeoning empire would be maintained in Felarati, which would make Rislet Peyt more powerful.

What made it seem more childish was the ministry flexing its muscles in the absence of the Prince. Rislet was far younger than any Grand Minister Keles had heard of. He might well have been brilliant, but Keles guessed he’d been offered the position because the other ministers felt he was expendable. If Pyrust did not approve of his actions, Rislet would end up dead, but would have insulated those who began the policies that angered the Prince. Rislet, by creating the new building, would position himself to advance over those who had been using him.

It was a ploy that both fascinated and disgusted Keles. But, as Jasai had taken pains to make clear to him, it was part and parcel of how the world worked. Rislet had to make his move at this time because if Pyrust died on his campaign, he would be without an heir. The nobles who sought to replace him would have to deal with Rislet, and there was every possibility that Helosunde’s Council of Ministers formed a model for how Deseirion might be governed in the future, making Rislet prince in all but title.

Ministries manipulated to get what they wanted and, therefore, could be manipulated themselves. This, too, Jasai had assured him would be part of his discussion with Rislet. Between the two of them, they came up with a few things he could ask for.

“I believe, Grand Minister, I can accommodate your request.” Keles set his cup back down. “And your news is interesting in that it plays along with a dream I had recently. A prophetic dream, akin to those which guide Prince Pyrust.”

The Grand Minister smiled, but clearly it took a bit of an effort. “Please, relate to me your dream.”

Keles nodded, and for a moment was tempted to tell him of the one where he had found himself walking with his sister in her paradise. That would confound him. Instead, he stuck with the script he’d created with Jasai.

“Deseirion has a rich Imperial history. I’ve studied maps and, west of here, there are several ruined Imperial fortresses. I would like to travel there and select stones to incorporate into the new buildings. It would create a linkage between old and new. You see the importance of that.”

“I shall have people fetch you stones, Master Anturasi.”