Michael Stackpole - Chartomancy

Vniel spoke through a thick woolen scarf to disguise his voice. “You positioned yourself well within the Vroan household. This pleases us.”

“It is only what you wished.”

“But pursued on your own initiative. Now, tell me, what have you heard of Prince Eiran?”

“Everyone knows he has gone missing. He is presumed dead-assassinated.” The slender man pointed off in the direction of the temple district. “Prince Cyron appeared at the Dragon Temple to burn incense. He clearly believes Eiran is dead. More important, there is no reason the Helosundians would just kidnap him. That serves no purpose. They slew him.”

Vniel wiped away tears with a handkerchief. The opium smoke stung his eyes, but the opium den was the most convenient place he knew of to keep the meeting completely confidential.

“You are certain Count Vroan did not order the Prince’s death?”

“He would have been happy to do so, but he saw no point to it. He was content to assume control of those troops himself, and would have been happy to have had the Prince turn them over to him. Vroan knows the value of leading armed men, and his return to prominence will remind people of past glory.”

“And positions him to take command in the event of an emergency.”

“That is his belief.”

Vniel watched the Desei carefully. “But the count is not averse to employing assassins?”

Aerynnor smiled. “Do you refer to him or me?”

“Both.”

“The answer is the same. He and I did speak of it, and he liked the idea of letting Nerot Scior assume responsibility for any assassin attacking Prince Cyron.”

“Whether he truly is involved or not?”

The man in the center of the room nodded.

Vniel closed his eyes for a moment and considered. He’d already met with the highest ministers in the Naleni bureaucracy, and all of them lamented the position the nation found itself in. He had been quite frank in describing the threat from the south, the agreement Pyrust had negotiated with the Helosundians, and his assessment of Prince Cyron’s inability to deal with either threat-much less two of them at once. To a man, the ministers agreed that if Cyron were to leave office so someone more capable could handle the crisis, it would be a blessing.

Which meant they all tacitly agreed to the use of an assassin. Prince Cyron, and even his father before him, had taken an unhealthy interest in the mechanisms of how the state functioned on a day-to-day basis. They established their exploration program outside the bureaucracy, minimized its interaction with the bureaucracy and, as a result, yielded far too little to the ministries in the way of power or wealth. The ministers resented Cyron for that, so they were more than willing to see him dead.

Especially if their hands would remain clean.

He did, however, find their lack of foresight rather shocking. Removing Cyron would not solve the problem of the threats from north and south. While Vroan might be able to keep the Desei in Helosunde, the fact was that their total control of Helosunde would not be overturned and Deseirion would become a serious power lurking on the border. Without constant vigilance, Pyrust would push south and Nalenyr would fall.

But the need for constant vigilance in the north meant that Vroan would be hard-pressed to fight against the invaders from the south. The Helosundian troops Cyron had moved down there did have a personal allegiance to Cyron. While Vroan had a Helosundian wife and child, Pyrust’s seizure of Helosunde and the call for all true Helosundians to return to their homeland would weigh heavily on the minds of those troops. Would they stay in the south and protect Nalenyr, or retreat to the Helos Mountains and protect their own homeland from invasion?

This Vniel didn’t know and couldn’t tell. But if Vroan were removed from the picture and Prince Pyrust assumed power in Nalenyr, all the resources from three nations could be directed toward fighting the invaders-even adding Erumvirine to the fold. Pyrust, while no friend of the ministries, would find himself very much dependent upon them to administer an empire.

And he is no more immortal than any princes before him.

Vniel opened his eyes again. “How difficult will it be to get Scior to purchase an assassin?”

“It would be simple.”

Vniel considered. Pyrust was likely only five days away with his army. “I would like it done soon.”

Aerynnor smiled. “A Scior agent deposited some money with a person of questionable repute here in Moriande. That money could be used to buy the services of an assassin who could strike very quickly indeed.”

“He would have to be very good. This is the Prince. Failure would be punished swiftly.”

“It will be expensive, since the chances of a successful escape are minimal. A vrilcai might accept the job to enhance his reputation.” Aerynnor raised an eyebrow. “How will that sit with you?”

“Anyone that good will be in the employ of the Desei and I prefer to distance them from the attempt.” Vniel’s eyes narrowed. “Find a disaffected Helosundian. Tell him there is proof that Cyron had both Koir Yoram and Prince Eiran killed. If you think documentary proof would be useful, it can be provided.”

“Rumors to that effect are already circulating.”

“I know. I had them started.”

The Desei exile laughed. “Then you understand that conspiracies are the favorite fodder of the gossips down here, especially in the exile community. Most believe it is the truth and finding someone to avenge the honor of Helosunde should not be too difficult. We can claim that both men wanted more support for Helosunde and desired Cyron to stop sending grain north until Jasai was returned to her people. Avenging her honor will also provide motivation. In fact, a Helosundian is a good choice, for enough of them work in Wentokikun that slipping into the palace will not be difficult.”

“Good.”

Aerynnor sat forward. “And shall Nerot Scior still be blamed?”

“Unless you have a better candidate in mind.”

“No, he will do nicely.”

And when it comes time to repudiate Vroan’s efforts, documents will surface exposing the Scior-Vroan-Turcol cabal.

“I only have one concern, Minister.” Aerynnor smiled when Vniel did not reply. “You will forgive my presumption, but you are in a ministry. If you were not, you could not-and would not-be discussing these matters with me. And you would not have the information you do to make such judgments. I have to assume, therefore, that you also have information to which I am not privy. It seems obvious to me, however, that the Vroan Dynasty may be extremely short in duration.”

“You may assume whatever you will.”

“You previously enticed me by dangling the chance of my assuming the throne after Count Vroan died. While I accept that circumstances may preclude this course of events, I do intend to be rewarded for my action. I shall assume, therefore, that what befalls the count need not befall his daughter. I could find myself very comfortable in Ixun.”

“And you would find yourself positioned to move to Moriande should the need arise?”

The Desei noble opened his arms. “Have I not acted well as your agent so far? It is obvious that you will need someone in a position to move against the sitting prince if other plans do not work. We already know the west is a breeding ground for rebellion, and the loss of Vroan will not sap its strength.”

Vniel considered for a moment, then nodded. “I believe Jarana can be insulated. Perhaps her husband was even assassinated by her father, since he opposed usurping Prince Cyron.”

“I think that highly likely, Minister.”

Vniel smiled in spite of himself. Aerynnor was proving to be a very smart and valuable agent. He knew how to reassure people that he had their best interest at heart. He’d clearly been manipulating the Scior agent, and now Count Vroan. Vniel could even feel the man’s fingers trying to bend Vniel to his will.