Ruby Guardian (3 page)

Lobra glanced toward the caskets and shook her head miserably. Falagh reached over and gently took his wife’s hand in both of his, giving it a comforting squeeze and pat. The gesture caused Lobra to turn back to him, staring into his eyes desperately, as though she needed him to tell her that it was all

going to be undone, that Anista and Denrick weren’t truly dead at all. Falagh had already tried every imaginable soothing gesture he could think of to assuage her pain, but she would not be placated. So he only returned her gaze, saying nothing. She fell against his arm, buried her face against his shoulder, and succumbed to her sobbing again.

“We all grieve for your loss, of course,” Grand Trabbar Lavant said from his high-backed chair. Falagh turned to look at the heavyset priest, who had his hands folded together, his fingers interlaced across his ample stomach. The Grand Trabbar continued to stare at the floor in front of him with that thoughtful, if somewhat distant, mien. “To have both a mother and brother taken from you at the same time is a terrible tragedy … simply terrible. And with the man most directly responsible for it running free, well …” Lavant said, leaving the thought hanging.

Lobra sat up again, wiping the fresh tears from her cheeks with her handkerchief. Falagh could see her visage of misery transformed into one of hatred, and she shifted away from him and toward the front of her couch, sitting regally. The woman settled her hands into her lap, though she held them clenched into delicate fists.

Very good, Falagh thought, recognizing the priest’s subtle manipulations. Move past what’s done, and address what is still to be done.

The Grand Trabbar rose ponderously from his seat and carefully smoothed his gem-studded cream and crimson robes about himself, then he moved to stand next to Grozier, who still knelt in front of Lobra.

“If you want to see justice done, consider our cause,” the priest said, resting one hand on the kneeling man’s shoulder so he could bend forward slightly and emphasize his words. “With your help, we can not only see your mother’s and brother’s vision continue

to move forward, but we can take steps to rectify this horrible grievance committed against you by House Matrell.”

“But I cannot make these decisions!” the woman wailed. “I know nothing of managing these affairs. Mother always—” and Lobra choked on her words, her body shuddering in another silent sob as she covered her face with her handkerchief again. Falagh patted his wife’s back as she shook in sorrow.

When Lobra had regained her composure once more, she continued with a sniff. “Others have always handled things. And I am not next in ascension, anyway; Jerephin is the head of the House, now.”

“Lobra, sweetheart,” Falagh said at last, finding it the right moment to add his own encouragement to the words of the two men beseeching his wife. “How many years has it been since anyone heard from Jerephin? Five, six?”

“Yes, but—”

“No ‘buts,’ darling. Jerephin is not here to make decisions, and he may never come back. The House needs a leader. You can do this.” Falagh reached out and took Lobra’s chin in his hand, turning her to look at him squarely. “You must.”

Falagh could see the uncertainty, the hesitation, playing across Lobra’s face as she considered his words. It was clear to the man that she did not have the first inkling about what she should do. She desperately wanted to have others make those choices for her.

Yes, Falagh mused silently, almost smiling. Let us help you decide. And the Mestels can be rid of the bastard Matrells once and for all.

Finally, her lip trembling, Lobra Pharaboldi turned back from her husband and faced Grozier and Lavant. She sat up a little straighter, forcing a look of determination onto her face. The grieving woman

took a deep breath and, with a gentle pat from her husband to reassure her, gave a slight nod.

“Yes,” she said, her voice nearly cracking. “You still have House Pharaboldi at your disposal. Let the plan go forward.”

Falagh could see Grozier visibly relax his shoulders at the words, and the Grand Trabbar stood up straight again, nodding.

“Excellent,” the priest said as Grozier climbed to his feet beside him. “We now have almost all the funds necessary to—”

“You will make him pay,” Lobra said, causing the Grand Trabbar to snap his mouth shut in surprise at the interruption. “Vambran Matrell will account for his crimes,” the woman added, giving both men in front of her a level look.

“Certainly,” Grand Trabbar Lavant said sagely, folding his hands across his midsection and resting them on his stomach again. “We already have a few plans in place to deal with—”

“Promise me,” Lobra cut in again, rising to her own feet, her eyes wide with intensity. “Promise me right now that you will punish him. I want him to hurt. Promise me.”

Neither man spoke for a long moment, taken aback by the sudden fire in Lobra’s countenance. Finally, the Grand Trabbar nodded.

“Good,” Lobra replied at last, seeming to wilt from her former rage. “Then I trust that you and my husband can work out whatever arrangements are necessary. I must go and rest now,” she said, her voice small and distant. She began drifting absently toward the door leading out of the room.

“Of course,” Grozier said, almost too quickly, making Falagh frown.

Hoping to find the upper hand in negotiating with me, the scion of House Mestel thought. I think not.

“Yes, Lobra, darling,” her husband urged. “Go rest. These gentlemen and I will finish up.” And Falagh motioned for a servant who had appeared discreetly in the doorway to take care of his wife.

“Now, gentlemen,” Lavant said as soon as Lobra had departed. “We have some details to attend to.”

“Do not think me the wretched, grieving fool, Waukeenar,” Falagh said, giving both men a piercing gaze. “My mind is not addled with grief over the loss of those two,” and he waved casually in the direction of the coffins. “If you are to see one copper of my wife’s wealth, then you are going to have to convince me that House Matrell will no longer be a thorn in your—or our—sides again. Ever.”

Grozier seemed taken aback by the man’s forceful words, and his mouth worked silently for several seconds, vainly seeking words that would assure Falagh.

“That is precisely why we also need your assistance,” Grand Trabbar Lavant said. “If we are to eliminate Vambran Matrell’s meddling—indeed, if we are to eradicate the mercenary’s entire household—we are going to have to take some very clever, subtle steps.”

“My help?” Falagh asked, ignoring Grozier and giving the priest his full attention. “What do I have that you want?”

“Why, your family’s naval might, of course,” Lavant replied, a hint of a smile on his face. “In all its wondrous forms. I think it’s time Vambran Matrell met with a tragic accident at sea.”

Falagh began to stroke his mustache again, unable to avoid a smile himself. “Yes, of course,” he said at last. “I think I might know how just such a catastrophe could occur.”

II • •

“It would seem that your financial woes have been alleviated, then,” Grand Trabbar Lavant said, casually examining a finely wrought statue of a mermaid lounging upon a shard of rock jutting forth from a frothy sea. “Lobra was not so hard to convince. We told her what she wanted to hear.” The sculpture was of silver inlaid with emerald and lapis, and it sat upon a pedestal in an alcove in one wall of Grozier’s drawing room.

Bartimus watched from across the chamber as the priest plucked the delicate mermaid from her perch and studied the craftsmanship. Lavant held it in the light of a nearby lantern hanging from a hook set into the wall and peered closely at the underside, possibly looking for the artist’s symbol etched into the silver.

The mage longed to return to his study, for he had research that still beckoned him before he would retire for the night. He knew, however, that he would have to magically return Lavant to his own quarters in the temple beforehand, so he stood patiently and waited as the other two men discussed their meeting with Lobra Pharaboldi.

“Yes, so it would seem,” Grozier agreed absently., “She was never a bright one, but that was almost too easy. And Falagh was more than happy to offer additional Mestel resources, wasn’t he?” the man added, sipping at a mug of chilled wine while he sat in one of his two most comfortable chairs.

Bartimus loved those chairs, with their deep cushions and matching footrests, but he had not been invited to sit, so he stood in a corner, leaning against a bookshelf and watching enviously.

I need to get a chair like those for my own rooms, the mage thought. Good for reading.

“Well, I expected the Mestels to jump at any chance to upend the Matrell household. Obiron the

bastard became quite an insult to his half-brother Aulaumaer Mestel, because of all the success House Matrell enjoyed. Old Manycoins has always wanted to see Obiron’s descendants dropped right back into the sewers whence they crawled, a fitting end to their upstart ways. So yes, Falagh was eager to get in good with his great uncle by contributing to the downfall of House Matrell.”

Grozier nodded and shrugged.

“And yet you are still unhappy,” the Grand Trabbar said reproachfully, replacing the statue and turning to face his accomplice. “Our army is in the field, sweeping all rivals out of the Nunwood. Sufficient funds are in place now to control the logging industry. We can move forward with our plans, but you sit there and brood.”

Grozier snorted as he took another swallow from his mug, then he set the vessel down rather abruptly upon a side table, sloshing some of the dark liquid onto his hand. “That whelp Matrell has ruined my reputation in the city,” the man said in disgust, rising and beginning to pace. “I went from being the architect of a magnificent business alliance, standing on the verge of greatness, to a near-prisoner in my own estate, all in a matter of three days. Now next to no one will consider doing business with House Talricci. All the creditors are demanding immediate payment for my other ventures.”

“A minor setback, nothing more,” the Grand Trabbar replied, moving to sit in the other comfortable chair. “With such a sizeable army already in our control, these new funds are more than enough to keep the mercenaries loyal to us for the entire campaign year. Remember, it is not a simple plan we’ve constructed, and you must have patience.

“We’ve made it seem like the city of Reth has finally thrown down the gauntlet at Hlath, indeed

all of Arrabar, over logging rights. You know that soon enough, Hlath will be forced to respond. All we need now are to get the druids angry enough at both sides to divert the Emerald Enclave’s attention from anything else. With a full-scale war raging all along the coastal border of the Nunwood, our own lumber operations elsewhere will be in high demand. Your coffers will begin to fill to overflowing soon enough with the high price of lumber, and when that happens, the creditors will be clamoring for your investments once more. Nothing remains frozen for long in the business dealings of Arrabar.”

Grozier snorted. “That’s easy for you to say,” he replied dryly, still pacing. “Your role in all of this has been carefully cleansed so no taint is visible. Underlings stepping beyond their bounds, business associates blundering without your knowledge. The whole city isn’t clamoring for your head on a pike right now.”

“You’re fortunate your head is not already on a pike,” the priest scolded, folding his fingers in his lap. “You could still be locked in the cells at the bottom of the temple. At least here, you are safe and untouchable. You have doubled the guards, as I suggested?”

Grozier waved the question away impatiently. “Yes, yes, the estate is safe. No one is going to slip onto the grounds without being seen. And Bartimus here has even established some magical alarms to inform us if someone tries anything more subtle.”

“Then all you need to do is be patient until the furor dies down. None of the other Houses in the city truly care what you have done. They only cry for justice to keep attention away from their own dealings, equally questionable operations that should not suffer the harsh glare of public scrutiny. You’re simply the news at the moment, nothing more.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Grozier said at last, slumping down into his chair once again. “But it burns me nonetheless. I do not take well to humiliation. House Matrell needs to feel a little of that for a change.”

“And they will; I assure you,” Grand Trabbar Lavant said, leaning forward and placing a hand upon his ally’s arm. “They will have their due. We will make sure of it.”

“But how?” Grozier asked, looking disgusted once more. “Hetta’s brood seems to have nothing better to do than to attempt to spy on us and everything we have in motion. And I cannot believe that Kovrim Lazelle hasn’t proven to be more of a thorn in your side.”

“Do not worry about Kovrim, or Vambran,” Lavant said coldly. “I already have signed the orders to have them both shipped on a mercy mission to a sister temple in Cimbar. With Kovrim away on campaign, he can’t snoop around in my affairs. Once Mestel’s `friends’ deal with the two of them, they won’t be a problem any longer.”

“Good,” Grozier said, though he still sounded grumpy to Bartimus.

“You will also be glad to know that my latest divinations seem to confirm what I foresaw the last time we spoke. Everything is falling into place for even more support for our cause.”

“Truly?” Grozier asked, an eager gleam appearing in his eyes. “And you have the backing in the temple to take advantage of it?”

“I believe so,” Lavant replied. “We will know soon enough. In the meantime, we must get a better handle on what House Matrell is up to if we hope to take advantage of any weaknesses. Divide and conquer is our motto, but even with Vambran and Kovrim out of the way, Hetta and her gaggle of women can still be a problem. We need someone on the inside to convey information back to us on what, exactly, they

are planning, so we can mete out suitable counterstrokes.”

Grozier began to nod even before the priest was finished. “Yes, I have been thinking about that. I think I know just who will help us.”

“I thought that might be your answer. Will she cooperate?”