Swordmage (30 page)

Mhurren growled and waved his hand. “No matter. I heard all that I needed to hear. The rest can wait for now.”

“Shall I have my Warlock Knights make ready to march?” Avrun asked.

“If you have been told to remain close to me, then you will,” Mhurren answered him. “I go to Hulburg to put my steel at the harmach’s throat. And then we will see what ransom he can pay that will satisfy me.”

Nineteen

Garly on the morning after the duel with Urdinger, Harmach Grigor surprised Geran with a sharp rap at his chamber door. Geran had just finished his morning exercises and was preparing to refresh his arcane wards and spells, but he set aside his tome and stood when the old lord limped into the room, leaning on his cane. Grigor glanced at the spellbook. “You’re more of a student now than you once were,” he observed. “You had little interest in arcane matters when you were a younger man, but I see that you’ve learned much in the years you’ve been away from home.”

“I didn’t know it myself until I went to Myth Drannor,” Geran answered. “I learned Elvish there and studied under an elf bladesinger named Daried Selsherryn. My swordplay caught his eye, but he saw that I also had a talent for magic that I’d never suspected.” He closed his spellbook. “What can I do for you, Uncle Grigor?”

“I hope you will forgive the interruption, but Sergen came to see me shortly after sunrise this morning. He presented a demand from House Veruna and the Merchant Council for your immediate arrest on charges of murder.”

Geran snorted in disgust. “The forms might not have been strictly observed, but it was a duel, not a murder,” he said. He’d told Grigor, Kara, and Hamil about his encounter with the Veruna captain the previous evening, expecting that

his uncle and his cousin would be appalled by his rashness. To his surprise, Grigor simply heard out his account of events and then asked him to remain at Griffonwatch until the consequences of the duel sorted themselves out. The fact that the harmach was standing in his room seemed to suggest that those were already upon him. “I fought Urdinger fairly—he struck first, by the way—and the other Veruna men stayed out of it. There were many witnesses.”

“Oh, I believe you, Geran. I told Sergen as much. He argued that until the circumstances of the duel had been verified by the council’s inquest, you should be remanded to the Council Watch and held. I said that I’d arrange for a fair and independent inquiry, but that you’d remain at liberty until it was concluded—not that I expected any fair inquest to incriminate you if the accounts I’d heard were accurate.” The harmach paced over to the window-seat in Geran’s room and leaned against the padded bench. “At that point Sergen insisted that you’d proven yourself a murderous scofflaw several times over, and that you were singlehandedly ruining our family fortunes by ignoring Veruna’s rights and protections under the laws of concession.”

“Ruining our fortunes or his?” Geran muttered darkly. He looked over to his uncle. “What did you say?”

“I told him that his generous interpretation of the laws of concession did not take precedence over the harmach’s interpretation of the rest of the harmach’s laws, and that as far as I knew, I was still Harmach of Hulburg. I’m afraid Sergen left after that.”

“I’m not surprised. The Verunas missed their chance at me on the Highfells and then again yesterday, so they sent Sergen to persuade you to arrest me for them.” Geran remembered Veruna’s mercenaries wrecking Mirya’s store, and his mouth tightened. It was bad enough that foreigners had such contempt for the harmach that they believed they could simply lay the town under tribute and plunder it in the guise of trade laws. But his stepcousin was clearly doing everything in his power to ensure their success. The question was, why?

Sergen must have been bought completely—or smitten, perhaps—by Darsi Veruna, since he was so faithfully working in her interests … but something about that struck Geran as not quite right. Sergen had always been keenly aware of his own self-interest, even as a boy. It wasn’t like him to faithfully work at anything he didn’t want for himself. Which meant that Sergen wasn’t seeing to Veruna’s interests by keeping his Merchant Council out of the way of the foreign costers. He was likely seeing to his own. Perhaps the Verunas were working for Sergen instead of the other way around. “That must be it,” Geran murmured aloud.

“Some new thought has struck you, I see.” Grigor set his hands atop the head of his cane. “What is it, Geran?”

“I think Sergen means to supplant you, Uncle. He doesn’t work for House Veruna—they work for him. Everything he’s done to increase the power of the Merchant Council, he’s done to add to his own base of power. You must move against him before he moves against you.”

“Geran, even if you’re right, I cannot easily remove him,” Grigor said wearily. “What happens if I attempt to oust Sergen, and he still retains control of the Merchant Council? I must tell you frankly that I don’t know if my Shieldsworn could overcome the council’s combined forces. Even if my Shieldsworn succeeded in disarming the foreign companies, we’d face the complete ruin of Hulburg’s commerce, because you can be sure that the merchants will put a stop to all trade in or out until they are once again content with the state of affairs. Unless, of course, the Bloody Skulls prove as dangerous as Kara fears, in which case we all might be swept into the sea because we were too busy fighting each other to defend our borders against Warlord Mhurren’s horde.”

Geran stood in silence for a long moment. He hadn’t really appreciated the difficult course his uncle was trying to chart. Do nothing and allow the foreign interests to devour Hulburg a small bite at a time … or resist and risk catastrophe? In that light it was not unreasonable to seek some accommodation with the foreigners, an understanding about just

what belonged to them and what remained the harmach’s. “Would it be better if I left Hulburg?” he finally said. “It seems that I’ve brought troubles to your doorstep that you hardly need. If I went back to Tantras, Sergen would no longer have the pretext of my so-called scofflaw deeds to challenge your authority.”

“You didn’t cause our troubles, Geran. They were here before you returned, waiting for you to find them.” The harmach glanced out the window; the day promised more warm spring rain, somewhat out of season even for the end of the month of Ches. “I think you’ve opened my eyes to the dangers that I’ve been trying to grope my way through for some time now. I am not happy to see these things as they are, but only a fool would hope to remain in ignorance instead of facing an ugly truth.” The old lord laughed softly and without humor. “On the other hand, I’m pleased that at least one of the men who murdered Jarad Erstenwold has met with justice, and I’m pleased that you took a stand against extortion in any guise. Darsi Veruna was long overdue for just the sort of check you’ve given her thugs; they’ve bullied honest Hulburgans for too long. But now I fear for your life. The Verunas will certainly seek a way to retaliate against you, so that they will not appear weak to their rivals and competitors.”

“I won’t hide in Griffonwatch,” Geran answered him. “House Veruna struck their bargain with the King in Copper for a reason, and I still mean to find out why. And I don’t believe for a moment that Sergen will leave Mirya Erstenwold alone, not as long as I’m here.” He shrugged. “What’s happened so far is only the first pass of steel in a long fight.”

“I can’t have you pursue a vendetta against House Veruna, Geran,” the harmach said sternly. “Like it or not, the laws of concession apply to you as much as any Hulburgan. You can defend life or property, as you did against the Verunas wrecking the Erstenwold store, but they must offer you a cause to intervene. After all, any free man is obligated to protect others who are threatened with harm. But, whatever you

do, stay out of Veruna’s compounds or tradeyards. If you fall into their power in one of the concessions, I won’t be able to protect you.”

Geran grimaced, but he nodded. Trade concessions were much the same all over the lands of the Inner Sea; in effect, the property owned by House Veruna was a little piece of Mulmaster in the middle of Hulburg’s dock district, just as the Red Sail’s storehouses in Impiltur were protected by the laws of Tantras. But something else in the harmach’s words had given him the glimmers of an idea. … “I understand, Uncle Grigor,” he replied. “I’ll watch where I step.”

“Good lad,” said Grigor. He stood up slowly, gripped Geran’s shoulder, and limped out of the room.

Geran sat down at the small writing desk and gazed out the window for a time, organizing his thoughts. Then he returned to his magical studies and finished weaving his wards and protections. He threw his good wool cloak over his shoulders, buckled on his sword belt, and went in search of Hamil.

It took longer than he expected. Hamil was nowhere in the Harmach’s Tower or the upper bailey. Geran finally resorted to asking the servants and guards and found the halfling in the castle’s sallet, a large, wooden-floored practice room near the lowet gatehouse. Hamil was engaged in a furious, hard-fought bout against Kara, so Geran waited and watched. He’d known for years that Hamil was one of the fastest blades he’d ever seen and an expert acrobat as well, but he remembered Kara as exceptionally quick footed and agile. Both fought with buckler and rapier—equally unfamiliar to each, really, since Hamil preferred knives, and Kara usually carried a long sword. She was twenty inches taller and had a considerable advantage in reach and strength; when Hamil managed to get inside her guard, his smaller stature turned to his advantage. While Geran watched, Kara raced across the floor and spun past Hamil, her practice sword flicking out in a lightning-quick passing cut, but Hamil batted the stroke high with his buckler and lunged at het hip. Kara was not there;

she was already moving away, opening the range to restore the advantage of her reach.

Hamil pressed closer and quickly somersaulted up under Kara’s blade, but the ranger stood her ground, twisting away from his point, and brought her own rapier straight down from overhead in an inverted thrust that touched Hamil at the back of the neck. Geran smiled to himself; she’d met Hamil’s unorthodox attack with a similarly unorthodox tiposte. The halfling’s roll would have worked better with a shorter blade; it simply took Hamil too long to ready his attack with the rapier, though Geran did not doubt that he would have spitted most ordinary swordsmen; Kara was almost as quick as he was. “Not bad,” Hamil admitted. He straightened up and gave her a small bow of respect.

“Likewise, Master Hamil,” Kara said with a smile. She stepped back and saluted with her rapier. “I’m afraid I must attend to my duties. If I don’t leave soon, I won’t be able to get back by tomorrow.”

“Riding up to the watchtowers again?” Geran asked.

“I want to have another look around Raven Hill. If the Bloody Skulls mount a raid against us, I think it’ll come from that quarter.” Kara looked at Geran’s cloak and tunic and frowned. “You’te not leaving the castle, are you?”

“I won’t find many more answers here, Kara.”

“The Verunas will be looking for a chance to challenge you, Geran. You’d be wiser not to play their game.”

Geran shrugged and picked up another practice sword from a rack close at hand. He executed several quick blocks. “The Mulmasterites begin to open barrows—Jarad fails to stop them. We learn that Urdinger is seeking something in an ancient priest’s barrow—Hamil and I fail to keep the Infiernadex out of their hands. Sergen’s Merchant Council threatens Hulburg’s small traders—so I try to drive off Veruna thugs who are trying to intimidate and bully Mirya Erstenwold.” The practice sword whistled through the air as he spoke; then Geran shifted from parries to a sudden, fierce thrust at his unseen foe. “Everyone who finds himself in

opposition to House Veruna does nothing but parry. I think it’s time for a riposte.”

Kara frowned unhappily. “Geran, what do you intend?”

He turned and looked over to Kara. “Is Durnan Osting still a captain of the Spearmeet?”

“Durnan? Yes, I suppose so.”

Hamil looked up at Geran. “What’s the Spearmeet?”

“My apologies, Hamil. It’s the militia of Hulburg. In the years after the Spellplague, Harmach Angar decreed that all landowning households must arm a spearman and drill together regularly. Most of the old families of the town pass down a mail byrnie, a steel cap, a good hide shield, and some weapons. Some of the townsfolk—especially those who live up in the Winterspear—used to take it quite seriously.”

“Only a few of the musters still gather now,” Kara said. She looked at Geran and folded her arms over her mail shirt. “There hasn’t been much need for the Spearmeet in recent years. What do you want with them?”

“The Spearmeet is made up of old native families like the Erstenwolds,” said Geran. “They’re the people who have the most loyalty to the harmach, and they’ve got little reason to be happy with foreign merchants taking over the town. I think it might be a useful lesson for the Merchant Council if a thousand Hulburgans decided to put on their family mail and shake the rust off their old spears. Besides, if the ores of Thar are coming, it might be a good idea anyway.”

“They’re not professional soldiers, Geran. I doubt that the Verunas or Sokols or any of the others would be much impressed. But still, you may be right about the Bloody Skulls.” Kara brushed some of the perspiration from her face and then nodded. “I’ll speak to the harmach about calling out the Spearmeet simply to count heads and see who turns out. It couldn’t hurt.”

“Thank you, Kara,” Geran said. He looked over to Hamil and asked, “How do you feel about a visit to a taphouse?”

“I regard the prospect with pleasure, as always,” Hamil answered. “But isn’t it a little early?”

“Not if you want to speak to the master of the house before his establishment is full of customers demanding service.” Geran waited while Hamil stripped off his practice jerkin, pulled his fine ruffled shirt over his torso, and threw on his cloak. Then they took their leave of Kara and left the sallet. The taphouse Geran had in mind was close by Griffonwatch, so he and Hamil strolled down the castle’s causeway on foot through the light rain.