us, would they? They could have gone on trusting it to idiots like Jerghar or Dahlaha.”
“Agreed.”
“I take it the numbers Tellian provided to Shaftmaster confirmed what we’d expected?” Varnaythus asked, changing the subject.
“Unfortunately.” There was no amusement in Sahrdohr’s grimace this time. “I’m not senior enough to have sat in on any of the meetings myself, but I was able to get my hands on a true copy of Sir Whalandys’ notes courtesy of my capture spell. I’ll transfer a copy to you at the end of our conversation, but I don’t think you’ll be any happier with them than I was. Assuming Kilthandahknarthas’ estimates are accurate-and when was the last time one of his estimates wasn’t accurate? — Tellian Bowmaster is about to become the richest Sothoii noble in history. Phrobus only knows how much Bahnak is going to make out of it, but the Exchequer’s share of Tellian’s income alone is going to add somewhere between ten and twelve percent to its annual revenues. And that’s from its direct share of his income; it doesn’t even count all of the indirect revenues the Crown is going to generate off of the increased trade.”
Varnaythus’ jaw clenched. He’d known the numbers were going to be bad, but he’d continued to hope they wouldn’t be quite that bad. Unfortunately, the wizard lords of Carnadosa weren’t very good when it came to estimating trade revenues and opportunities. The economy they’d rebuilt in Kontovar depended upon totally different means of manufacture and transport, and the truth was that he’d been slow to fully recognize the implications of the Derm Canal. As it was, he’d come to suspect Kilthandahknarthas was being deliberately conservative in the estimates he was sharing with his partners in the project, which suggested all sorts of unpleasant possibilities if it couldn’t be stopped after all. On the other hand…
“The Purple Lords aren’t going to like that at all, are they?” he said thoughtfully.
“I think that would be putting it rather conservatively, actually.” Sahrdohr’s irony came through the link quite well, Varnaythus thought. “This is going to literally ruin at least a dozen of their major trading houses. In fact, it’s probably going to be a lot worse than that, especially if the Spearmen come on board with Kilthandahknarthas and Tellian as enthusiastically as I expect they will. If Bortalik Bay suddenly isn’t the only-or even the best-gateway to the Spear, the consequences will be devastating for them.”
“Yes, and they’ll resent it, won’t they?” Varnaythus’ eyes gleamed. “And while they’re resenting it, who are they going to blame for it?”
“Ah?” It was Sahrdohr’s turn to pause, eyebrows rising in speculation. He sat that way for perhaps fifteen seconds, then nodded. “Yes, that would have unfortunate repercussions for any sense of loyalty they might feel for their neighbors to the north, wouldn’t it?”
“Which might make them more open to conversations with their neighbors to the south, don’t you think?” Varnaythus almost purred.
“I suspect it might,” Sahrdohr agreed. “Of course, that doesn’t change our instructions, does it?”
“No, but it might not be a bad point for me to include in my next report.”
The two wizards’ gazes met in shared understanding. There was very little chance they would be ordered to cease their efforts to strangle the entire project before birth, but it never hurt to have a fallback position ready. Pointing out the potential benefits-especially when that potential was as large as it might well prove in this instance-which could still accrue if they failed in their mission could well contribute to their own continued existence if worse came to worst.
“I think that would be a very good idea,” Sahrdohr said, and Varnaythus snorted in amusement.
“And may I ask how your mission in Halthan is faring so far?” the magister asked after a moment.
“Reasonably well,” Varnaythus replied. “I think we need to look more closely at Baroness Myacha, though. She’s not the bedchamber trophy we thought she was. Worse, I think she has a brain that works, and she seems to be unfortunately…resilient.”
“Another one with a latent Gift?”
“Possibly. Quite possibly.” Varnaythus shrugged. “We’ll have to see what we can do about tracking back on her pedigree, but I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she has at least a touch of it. It runs in too damned many of the old families to make me happy.”
“You think she has the True Sight?” Sahrdohr’s unhappiness with that thought was obvious.
“If she does, it’s completely untrained, and without training, the worst likely outcome would be for her to be vaguely uncomfortable around me without being able to put her finger on why. I didn’t see any sign of that this afternoon, although that doesn’t prove anything.” Varnaythus grimaced. “I’ll just have to add her to the list of people in this accursed barony that I need to avoid as much as possible. It would help if Borandas weren’t as besotted with her as he obviously is, though.”
“Wonderful.” Sahrdohr shook his head with a disgusted expression.
“Oh, it’s not that bad. Potentially inconvenient, I agree, but as I say, I’m not that concerned about her realizing Talthar is a glamour.”
“No, but what if she should find herself feeling ‘vaguely uncomfortable’ around him and happen to discuss that with her husband’s cousin the mage?” Sahrdohr challenged. “And what if her husband’s cousin the mage has already figured out she could have a touch of the Gift herself?”
“Which is the reason I’m going to do my best to avoid her,” Varnaythus pointed out in an oblique acknowledgment of the magister’s point.
The magi had made it a matter of high priority to collect every scrap of information they could on the art, and that unmitigated pain in the arse Wencit of Rum had made it an equally high priority to answer their questions and hand over the not inconsiderable personal library he’d managed to salvage from the wreckage of Kontovar. As a result, they were far better informed about wizardry than their Carnadosan opponents were about the powers of magi, which meant Master Brayahs was probably as conversant with the symptoms of a latent Gift for the art as Varnaythus himself.
“In the meantime,” he went on in a determinedly brisk tone, “the rest of my visit here seems to have gone quite well. It’s remarkable how gems of high quality open doors, isn’t it?”
Sahrdohr snorted. Given the possibilities of the art, “Talthar’s” wares could have been still better, but it was unwise to draw too much attention. His stones were of just about the highest quality anyone could reasonably expect a single trader outside Dwarvenhame to possess; anything more than that might well have drawn the very questions they were so eager to avoid.
“And our friend Bronzehelm? Is he as…suitable as we’d hoped?”
“I believe so.” Varnaythus leaned back in his chair, stapling his fingers under his chin. “He’s more devoted and loyal to Borandas than we’d estimated-quite a bit more, to be honest. But he’s nowhere near so resilient as Baroness Myacha seems to be. I think we’re going to have to be as careful to avoid using the art to…shape him appropriately as I was afraid we were, but I also think he’s going to be even more amenable to suggestion with the appropriate enhancements.”
Sahrdohr’s smile would have done credit to a shark, and Varnaythus smiled back. Sir Dahlnar Bronzehelm was Baron Borandas’ seneschal, responsible for the management and administration of the baron’s household here in Halthan. He was also one of Borandas’ closest confidants, and he’d been with the baron for the better part of thirty years. Very few people could be better placed to subtly shape Borandas’ views, which didn’t even consider how valuable a listening post within the North Riding he could become. It would have been far more convenient if they’d been able to use the art to…modify his existing loyalties and views, but there was too much chance of a mage noticing that sort of tampering. Especially if the mage in question was so inconsiderate as to be both a healer and a mind-speaker. Fortunately, there were drugs which could produce the same effect, albeit more slowly and gradually. Even better, that slow and gradual process was virtually indistinguishable from the fashion in which anyone’s opinions might naturally come to change over time. There was some risk, of course-nothing could completely avoid that when one was was forced to deal with a mage-yet the probability that even as strongly gifted a mage as Brayahs would notice their meddling would be far, far lower than the chance of his detecting the art.
“And Thorandas?” Sahrdohr asked.
“I haven’t had an opportunity to come within reach of him yet,” Varnaythus admitted. “Hopefully I’ll manage that before ‘Talthar’ is scheduled to leave. In the meantime, though, judging from what I’ve been able to pick up about him from the more open minds here in Halthan, I’d say our original impressions are probably fairly accurate. Borandas clearly relies heavily on his advice-that was obvious from the way his aura peaked each time I mentioned Thorandas’ name. I think it’s safe to say he trusts his son’s judgment in most ways, if not all.”
