The Legend of Broken

had married and when, just where she was currently living, and even that Gisa was a part of the Arnem household: all facts that, if the young lord’s soul had been truly healed, he could have told Radelfer before the latter’s departure.

Such considerations, however, were quickly set aside, that the delicate arrangement of a visit from the Second Minister of Broken to the Merchant Lord’s Kastelgerd might be arranged. From the first, and despite the advice of his trusted old advisor and friend, Rendulic Baster-kin proved resentful, even combative, concerning the entire affair: never mind the fact that it was he who was requesting a service of the Second Lord, under conditions of secrecy so strict that most of the household staff, as well as Chen-lun’s healers, were successfully kept unaware of the proceedings. It gradually became clear that the success or failure of the meeting depended on the reactions that these two men — now the two highest secular officials of the kingdom — would have to one another. Both possessed pronounced characters and the same strong unwillingness to suffer argument from any person they dubbed a fool. Radelfer steadily lost his early enthusiasm for the meeting, the more he considered the idea, realizing that, while there was a chance that Caliphestros’s visit to the Kastelgerd Baster-kin would offer the young lord and his wife a way out of the present dilemma, it was at least as likely that the meeting would end in most calamitous failure.

Radelfer’s concerns ultimately proved well grounded. A most discreet, late-night visit from the Second Minister of the realm was soon arranged; and on the appointed night, at the appointed hour, a plain litter appeared at the Kastelgerd’s lowest and most hidden entrance. Scorning the protection of Lord Baster-kin’s Guard, Lord Caliphestros arrived with no more significant protection than his litter bearers, men who were less servants than acolytes, it seemed to Radelfer. Humbly introducing himself to the Second Minister — whose long beard, scholar’s black skullcap, and silver and black robes of state did not disguise the fact that, while of an age that matched Radelfer’s own, this Caliphestros was also in nearly as vigorous health — Radelfer remarked that, while he could see that the two bearers had good sword arms and fine blades at their sides, they nonetheless seemed a very limited party of protection with which to go abroad in the city at night. To this, Caliphestros replied that, having calculated from the Merchant Lord’s petition that the fewer persons — particularly servants — that knew of the meeting, the better for all involved, he had brought only two of his stronger assistants. Radelfer could find no flaw in his reasoning and, ushering the litter bearers into the gardens that led up to the Kastelgerd Baster-kin’s somewhat overawing main entrance, the seneschal asked the men to wait there, among the tastefully arranged fruit trees, flowers, and few pieces of statuary, promising that food and wine would be brought to them. The two men expressed thanks, after which Radelfer led Caliphestros, not further up the terraced grounds to the main entrance to the Kastelgerd, but down, through a long tunnel that eventually ended in one of the building’s more remote cellars.

As the builders of the Kastelgerd had spared no effort or expense in either the design or execution of the building, so the cellars that they had constructed beneath the palatial home were wondrous and extensive creations in their own right. There were many long-since-forgotten chambers and hallways below the residence of Broken’s most powerful merchant clan, places unknown even to the Kastelgerd’s servants, Radelfer explained: some were even outside the ken of the present master of the house, since so many generations of secretive lords (such as Rendulic Baster-kin’s own father) had needed discreet places in which to conduct their less than noble personal affairs, and had destroyed all records of their locations.

Caliphestros followed as Radelfer, having lit a small torch, led the way up narrow, winding stone steps that opened out into a shadowy remove below what proved the main staircase of the reception hall. Radelfer held his dim torch close enough to the illustrious visitor that he might read the Second Minister’s reaction, when he saw the great hall for the first time, lit by the Moonlight that streamed through high windows in the western wall that faced the gardens of the Way of the Faithful. What he saw in those aging features was less awe than fascination, of a type that the seneschal found pleasing. Wandering into the center of the hall, Caliphestros glanced about as if to make certain that no witnesses were anywhere nearby; and Radelfer, assessing the older man’s expression, quietly announced:

“This night, I have instructed all servants to remain within their quarters, Minister, unless called for, using Lady Baster-kin’s distress as my ploy. Meanwhile, members of my own household guard are stationed at various positions throughout the Kastelgerd, to make certain that the orders are obeyed, discretion is ensured, and no miscreants can take advantage of the lack of general activity to attempt any crime or mayhem.”

Caliphestros smiled, amiably and knowingly. “Yes, Radelfer — I have heard talk of your ‘household guard,’ as have the God-King and the Grand Layzin. Veteran soldiers, assembled quietly from the moment you became seneschal of the Kastelgerd? It almost seems you oppose, even distrust, the activities of the Personal Guard of the Merchant Lord … But fear not. We all — Izairn, the Layzin, and I — share your disdain for that force’s increasingly troublesome behavior. Indeed, I have yet to meet a soldier or veteran of the regular army who does approve of those effeminate, violent louts — and rightly so.”

As soon as Caliphestros had satisfied himself that there were indeed no ordinary servants stirring in the great residence, he placed his hands upon his hips, and nodded: less, again, impressed than he was interested. “I have heard stories of the interior of this greatest of all the Kastelgerde—yet only being here can make one understand the endless gossip.” He glanced about the hall once more. “It is truly a structure worthy of kings …”

“I am glad to hear you say so, Minister,” came the unexpected voice of Rendulic Baster-kin in reply; and Radelfer realized with some distress that his master must have been listening from the gallery above, for he was now midway down the great stairs. “And to dismiss such idle talk with such excellent dispatch,” the young lord continued, slowly descending the steps to the hall below — a carefully arranged bit of theatrics, Radelfer silently observed, one that would become habitual, in future years. “It gives me all the more pleasure in welcoming you into my home — and thanking you for coming under such … unusual circumstances.”

“Unusual, but understandable,” Caliphestros replied, bowing slightly — although not nearly so deeply, Radelfer knew, as Rendulic Baster-kin would have preferred. “If your wife’s and your son’s conditions are indeed as critical as I have been led to believe, it is of great doubt that Broken’s own healers would be equal to the task of diagnosing and determining any true cure that might exist. Except, of course, for the truly capable Gisa — who recommended my services, I understand, as a consequence of having had some past business with your lordship …?”

“How very knowledgeable you are, Minister Caliphestros,” the Merchant Lord replied. “Which is as well, for the situation seems now to worsen by the day. And so I trust that you will take no offense if I forgo further niceties by asking you to cast your no doubt expert eyes on the troubled members of my family at once?”

He held what appeared to be an inviting hand out toward the stairs: but the gesture was in truth less welcoming than redolent of his intention to demonstrate his greater status and his supreme power in his own household and kingdom. Second Minister Caliphestros seemed incapable of being cowed, however, especially by one so young, and only smiled, joining Rendulic Baster-kin on the stairs and walking with him up and toward the bedchamber then still shared by the master and mistress of the Kastelgerd. Radelfer followed some few steps behind: where, he knew, the increasingly confident and bold young man had also expected Caliphestros to walk. Sensing the onrush of some unidentifiable crisis, just as he had once been able to smell the coming of battle during his years as a Talon, the seneschal prepared for it by reaching instinctively for the hilt of a fine raiding sword that had for all his career as a soldier been at his side, but was now gone: in its place, he found only a small jeweled dagger that had become his sole weapon of defense when he became a glorified domestic servant …

Shown first into the chamber where Lady Chen-lun lay, Caliphestros had needed even less time than Gisa would have, Radelfer observed, to reach some unspoken conclusion concerning her condition, one that even so experienced a healer and scholar had found shocking. And, once his examination had been completed, he asked to see the stricken child immediately, and was taken to a distant, cramped nursery.

If the great scholar’s expression on examining Lady Chen-lun had been one of shock, his countenance on studying the infant was overwhelming sadness. The child had not yet been named; but the latest Lord Baster-kin had already and bitterly taken to calling him “Klauqvest” (with a cruelty, it seemed to Radelfer, which all too closely resembled that of Rendulic’s own father) because of the child’s fingers and toes, the bones of which had appeared malformed at birth, and were quickly growing ever more fused, like some crawling, shelled sea beast. Asking only a