L. Modesitt - Colors of Chaos

“I must admit that I am also pleased to see the honorable overmage, the overcaptain of the lancers, and the healer.” Muneat permitted himself a brief smile that stretched a third part across his broad and jowled face.

“All are known for their honesty and fairness, I admit,” Cerryl responded. “There have been strange circumstances in Fairhaven lately, and their fairness is necessary.” He paused, fixing his eyes on Muneat, wondering just how much the man knew. “Have you purchased the services of any new guards or armsmen lately?”

“No, Your Mightiness. In winter, after a year such as this?” Muneat’s eyes flickered, even as he kept them on Cerryl.

“Might you know of some traders who have?”

“I do not know of any.”

Cerryl caught the faintest emphasis on the word “know” and continued. “Perhaps you have heard rumors or surmised that another trader has hired armsmen in recent eight-days?”

“If you listen long enough, Your Mightiness, you can hear any rumor that you wish. Coins and facts and goods, those be the staples of a factor, not whispers in the streets or rumors.” Muneat fidgeted, and his hand moved, as though he wanted to blot his forehead or brush back the long silver hair above his ears and below the shining bald center of his skull.

“Oh, you have heard rumors of armsmen?”

“Yes, Your Mightiness, but you hear those when times are bad.”

“Might they have been about Chorast?” Cerryl paused. “Or Layel? Or Loboll? Or Felemsol?” Then, after a lengthy silence, he added, “Or Jiolt?”

“I can’t say as I’ve heard that any of those have added armsmen lately.” Muneat offered a tight smile.

“Jiolt is related to you through consortship, is he not?”

“He is, and he is a fine factor, and a good consort and father.” Muneat smiled more broadly, offering the smile more to Kinowin and Leyladin than to Cerryl.

What do those have to do with treason and plotting? Cerryl wanted to shake his head. Being good at what one did and loving one’s family didn’t mean either innocence or guilt. “I am sure he is all of those.” And more . “I do appreciate your time, your forbearance, and your assistance.”

For the first time, Muneat looked disquieted.

“You may go, Factor Muneat.” Cerryl paused, then added, “And I do hope you still enjoy The Wondrous Tales of the Green Angel .”

Muneat bowed deeply, his face nearly frozen, then bowed again and turned.

When the door had closed, Kinowin cleared his throat. “He was fine-except for lying about Jiolt-until your last words. What did they mean?”

Cerryl laughed. “I wanted to let him know something. Many years ago, he purchased that volume from Tellis the scrivener. I thought he should understand that I knew that.”

Leyladin laughed softly.

Senglat swallowed.

After a moment of silence, Gostar announced, “Factor Jiolt.”

The door closed behind the handsome factor with a dull thud.

Jiolt’s ruddy face sat atop a muscular and trim body clothed in a dark green that emphasized both his well-trimmed beard and his hair, both sandy-colored and shot with silvered gray. He bowed and then offered a smile that was warm, friendly, charming, and totally false. “Your Mightiness…overmage, overcaptain, and…healer.”

Cerryl knew that Jiolt had used the last pause to insinuate that Leyladin was somehow less worthy than the three men. He smiled broadly. “Factor Jiolt, I cannot tell you how pleased we are to have you before us.”

“And I am most pleased to be able to assure such pleasure.”

“There have been strange circumstances in Fairhaven lately, as I am most certain you above all others understand,” Cerryl said mildly. “Have you purchased the services of any new guards or armsmen lately?”

“In the depth of winter, after a year such as this?” Jiolt’s sandy eyebrows arched. “I am a factor, and hiring armsmen to guard shipments one cannot make until spring or later is a certain way to ruin.”

“Perhaps I was not so clear as I might have been,” Cerryl said, sensing the growing tension around the factor and beginning to raise the chaos he might need. “Have you been involved in obtaining the services of armsmen? Say, Certan armsmen?”

“Certan armsmen?” Jiolt laughed.

“I will ask once more,” Cerryl said, his voice chill. “Did you act in one way or another to hire armsmen to aid your niece’s plot against the Guild?”

“Absurd…that is…totally absurd! What do you mean by asking me that?” The sandy-haired trader drew himself up.

“I’m asking because some armsmen from Certis caused some trouble last night. That trouble involved your niece and Certis, and you deal with both. Did you pay them?”

“Ser High Wizard, I must confess that I know nothing of this. I am a respected trader…”

The light lance burned through Jiolt’s chest even before he had raised the thin iron throwing dagger. The dagger clanked on the stones of the floor, just before Jiolt collapsed onto it.

Kinowin, swift and graceful still in his gauntness and age, was beside the dead factor almost before the body lay still.

Senglat was on his knees by the dead factor nearly as quickly. The overcaptain rolled the factor over. “Don’t touch the blade. It’s smeared with something.”

“Poison, no doubt.” Kinowin’s voice was dry. “The blade is black iron. Nasty dagger to use on a White mage.”

Senglat glanced up at Cerryl. “Begging your pardon…High Wizard…but he had barely raised the knife…”

“He knew Cerryl would kill him,” Kinowin said, straightening. “He had to have known, once he was summoned.”

Senglat’s face clouded.

“It’s not that,” Kinowin added. “Jiolt was plotting against the Guild and the High Wizard. If he fled, then all would know he was guilty, and his golds and trading vessels and warehouses would be forfeit and his family sent into exile. He would die in any case.” A sad smile crossed the overmage’s face. “No one has ever escaped the High Wizard, and Jiolt knew that.”

“Oh…” said Leyladin. “So he forced Cerryl to kill him.”

The overcaptain’s mouth dropped open. “But…will his family…?”

“How?” asked Cerryl. “There won’t be any proof. If I act against his family now…for what he did…how will that be received? The Guild would lose all support among the factors.”

“Jiolt knew Cerryl could tell he was lying,” Leyladin interjected. “He didn’t want the High Wizard to learn more.”

Senglat shook his head, then slowly rose. “Perhaps I should leave…” He looked down at the body once more.

“No,” responded Kinowin, “not yet. You are honest, and all know it. If you are asked, you are to tell exactly what you saw.” He added after a brief pause, “It would also not hurt to mention that other traders left unharmed or with praise.”

Cerryl leaned forward, his hands on the table. “Senglat…if you would, have someone contact Jiolt’s son-Uleas, I believe. While I would prefer other…arrangements, it is best to be politic in these things. And if you would have a summons sent to the overmage Redark and the mage Esaak, I would greatly appreciate that-while the overmage, the healer, and I take a moment or two to recover.”

Kinowin nodded.

Senglat half-turned, shaking his head. “How did you know?”

“That’s the task of the High Wizard,” Kinowin answered for Cerryl. “Would you sleep better knowing what His Mightiness knows?”

The overcaptain paused and thought for a moment. “I do not think so.”

“Nor would I.” Kinowin walked to the Tower door. “Gostar! Send for the guards at the base of the Tower. And a messenger!”