warmth that was rare indeed. No doubt that natural geniality of his helped to explain his obvious success as a merchant, yet no one who’d spent more than a very short time in his company could have doubted that however useful his charm might be to him, it was also completely genuine. Nor was Sir Dahlnar a cold and distant personality, either. In fact, all of his clerks were devoted to him, for he was a naturally warm and generous man himself, and one who always appreciated wit and humor when he encountered them. So it surprised no one that he and Master Talthar should find themselves kindred sorts.
But for all his own warmth, Sir Dahlnar was also shrewd and conscientious, well aware of the implications of his position as Borandas Daggeraxe’s seneschal. Any number of people had attempted to take advantage of him, use him as a way to influence the baron or to profit from him over the years; none had ever succeeded. Yet Master Talthar, a merchant who was obviously making a great deal of money here in Halthan, had quickly-almost effortlessly-become a visitor Sir Dahlnar’s clerks automatically escorted to his office whenever he arrived.
Of course, it was also true that however many kormaks might be spilling into Master Talthar’s purse, his wares were worth every copper he’d ever been paid. In fact, on those occasions when Sir Dahlnar had been able to convince Baron Borandas to let him serve as his agent rather than dealing with the merchant directly, he’d driven a hard, hard bargain, however much he might like Master Talthar. Indeed, the price of Talthar’s gems in those cases had been low enough the merchant might well have actually taken a loss on the final price. And no one could have been more disinterested in the North Riding’s politics than Master Talthar. He kept himself informed upon them, but that was only to be expected from a shrewd and prosperous Axeman merchant who frequently carried a not-so- small fortune in gems about with him. Yet aside from the sort of information any merchant might have found useful, he paid them no particular heed, and he’d certainly never used his own contacts with Baron Borandas to try to influence him in any way.
If anyone had looked more closely, they might have begun to realize that rather than Talthar cultivating Bronzehelm, it was the seneschal who’d cultivated a relationship with the merchant, at which point things would have started to make much more sense. Bronzehelm had always had a shrewd eye for worthwhile sources of information, an ability to recognize observers who were both intelligent and insightful, and for all Master Talthar’s dry humor and warmth, that described the gem-dealer quite well. The quality of his wares meant he dealt with many of the wealthy and powerful, in the Empire of the Axe and even in the Empire of the Spear, not just the Kingdom. He obviously knew quite an extraordinary number of people, and he had factors or at least contacts in what appeared to be every major marketplace from Bortalik Bay to Sothofalas to Belhadan. Indeed, in his more modest fashion, his network of connections clearly echoed that of the great trading houses, like Clan Harkanath itself.
He paid the same attention to politics and attitudes elsewhere that he did here in the North Riding, for the same reasons, and he was perfectly willing to share his observations with Bronzehelm. He refused to violate any personal confidences, which only made the seneschal respect both his judgment and his character even more highly, but that didn’t detract from the value and clarity of his analysis.
“I hope you’ll forgive me for this, Talthar,” Bronzehelm said now, “but I know damned well it’s not ‘happenstance’!” He shook his head. “I see how you’ve become so immoderately wealthy, given that eye of yours.”
“Rubies do go well with her hair, don’t they?” Sheafbearer observed, and Bronzehelm snorted. “On the other hand, however good my eye might be, I don’t seem to have a very good sense of timing, do I?” The merchant grimaced. “I seem to’ve developed a positive talent for visiting Halthan while the Baron and his lady are away!”
“I suppose so.” Bronzehelm nodded. “On the other hand, given how expensive it is whenever you don’t miss them, I’m not going to pretend I’m brokenhearted by it.”
“The Baron truly does love to surprise her, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does, bless him. And every time he does, Her Ladyship scolds him for ‘wasting money’ on her…and then you come along and convince him to do it all over again.”
“Nonsense. I don’t convince him to do a thing, and you know it.” Sheafbearer waved a finger at the seneschal across his desk. “I simply assist him in doing exactly what he would have freely chosen to do without any prompting from me at all.”
“I suppose that’s one way to describe it,” Bronzehelm said dryly, and Talthar chuckled.
“Well, I’m not going to get rich trying to sell you anything, now am I?” He shook his head, surveying the plainly dressed seneschal. Bronzehelm was always neatly, even impeccably, attired, yet he obviously had no taste for the rings and neck chains many a Sothoii noble favored.
“I’m sure I’ll be able to restrain my tears of sympathy,” Bronzehelm said even more dryly. “In light of how rich you’re getting off of certain other parties here in Halthan, that is.”
“Such heartlessness,” Sheafbearer sighed. Then he brightened. “On the other hand, I might actually have something to tempt you with this time.”
“You can try, anyway,” Bronzehelm told him.
“All right, I will.”
Sheafbearer unlocked the sturdy gem case he carried with him everywhere. He reached into it and rummaged about for a moment before he brought out a remarkably plain golden ring, its band set with a single modest-sized (though very well-cut) emerald. He held it in the palm of his left hand for a moment, stroking the emerald with the tip of his right index finger as if it were a small, friendly animal, then offered it to Bronzehelm.
“I think this might be plain enough even for you,” he said, extending it across the desk.
“Really?” Bronzehelm reached for it, and the merchant dropped it into his hand. “I’ll admit, I never been partial to the more gaudy-”
The ring’s emerald flashed brightly, just once, and Sir Dahlnar Bronzehelm’s froze, sightless brown eyes locked to the small golden circlet on his palm.
Master Varnaythus smiled at the abruptly motionless seneschal of the North Riding. There was an undeniable edge of nervousness in that smile, yet any anxiety was more than compensated for by sheer satisfaction.
Bronzehelm had worked out even better than Varnaythus had anticipated. His susceptibility to the rather exotic “herbs” the wizard’s art had unobtrusively introduced into his diet was even more pronounced than Varnaythus had allowed himself to hope. It often worked out that way, however. Intelligent people accustomed to thinking clearly and concisely seemed to have less inherent resistance once someone managed to begin suggesting things to them with the proper…pharmaceutical enhancements. That very clarity and concision could be marshalled against them, put to work in the service of justifying and rationalizing the ideas others had inserted into their thoughts.
It was just as well Bronzehelm was more susceptible to them, though, Varnaythus thought, his smile fading, given how much more rapidly he’d found himself forced to act in the seneschal’s case. He hadn’t anticipated that Markhos would decide to come out so unambiguously in Tellian’s favor so soon, and he’d hoped for at least another two or three months-possibly even the full length of the summer-to “adjust” Bronzehelm’s thinking, if only to keep anyone from wondering about the rapidity with which it had shifted.
Unfortunately, Thorandas had been more eager to seek Shairnayith’s hand than Varnaythus had expected. Then Markhos had reached a formal decision in Tellian’s case, and, finally, there was Anshakar and his fellows. Varnaythus had always had his doubts about introducing them into the Ghoul Moor quite so soon, given how… tenuous his control over them was bound to be. Yet they’d needed to get the ghouls organized early in Tellian and Bahnak’s current campaign, and only Krashnark’s devils could have hoped to accomplish that. And he didn’t like the change in emphasis which had crept into his instructions from his own Lady.
He didn’t know if it was Her idea or if it had been “suggested” by Her father, and he couldn’t really quibble with the logic behind it, but it was unlike Her to change plans in midstream. And it was at least partly his own fault for emphasizing the advantages of recreating the Time of Troubles here in the Kingdom, he supposed. He’d intended it as a fallback position, an alternative prize he could offer in the interests of his personal survival if the plan to eliminate Bahzell failed (as such plans had a demonstrated tendency to do). Unfortunately, those advantages had been as evident to Her and the other Dark Gods as they were to him, and They’d decided They wanted both possibilities followed up. Indeed, They’d demanded that both strategies be pursued, all of which meant
