Chapter 7

  Varus

  The courtyard ringed with the pleasant ringing hum of steel. Varus slashed his sword high two times and his son Alek parried each attack while pressing forward, teeth bared. He surmised the news of Viktor’s death spurred Alek onward. His new heir seemed more eager to prove himself today. Likley, the responsibility as heir weighed on Alek now.

  Varus spoke as he attacked. “Your grandfather foolishly informed the Avictfell Post heralds of the failed Great Expedition, soon all the empire will know.”

  “It merely confirmed what most already suspected,” Alek answered with a counterthrust.

  “Yes, but now that it’s official, another call to arms will probably come.” Varus gave ground-blocking each strike. Varus earned his knighthood ages ago and rarely used his sword these days except to maintain his fitness. He relished the soreness of unused muscles the following morning. It was always good to practice his forms. He refused to let his body or mind fall into the senile, decrepit state of his father. “We must discuss your future.”

  “Regarding what?” Alek pressed his attack, grunting with each strike.

  “Good,” Varus said. “On matters of marriage. If we are to ensure our dynasty, you must marry.”

  “Of course. Which lady shall receive the honor?” Alek grinned. Varus countered, pivoted, and kicked his son in the ass. Alek stumbled forward.

  “In battle, you would find a sword instead of my boot.” Varus wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. “Before your brother died, I had considered matching him with Lady Bianca von Aldberg.”

  “Many consider her the most beautiful woman in court.”

  “Fortunate for you. It’s not her looks I value, but her bloodline. Marrying her can unite our house with the Meadowlands.” Varus relied on politics and strategies as rather than battles whenever possible. His glory days as a front-line commander were well past him. Varus had studied battle tactics and campaign strategy. He mastered maneuver, formations, siege warfare, and logistics. He knew how to study the ground and evaluate the enemy. Much of that knowledge could be applied at court as much as on the battlefield.

  “What must I do?”

  “For now? Nothing. I will make the arrangements.”

  “My lords,” Svetlana called out over singing steel despite her typical soft-spoken demeanor. Alek grunted, his sword point stopped inches from Varus’s throat. “Lord Varus, there are two guests here to speak with you, Otto Medistein and Inquisitor Karolin.”

  “I will meet them in the garden.” Varus sheathed his sword and took a cup of water from his squire. “Alek, accompany me. As my heir, you must learn to rule both on and off the battlefield.”

  “Yes, Father,” Alek said, gulping down his water. They walked from the courtyard through the halls of the keep. “I want you to observe, say nothing, and watch the body language of Otto and Karolin. See if it tells a different story than their words.”

  “Understood,” Alek said.

  Varus stopped before they entered the garden. He grasped his son’s shoulder, looking him in the eyes. “A son exists to glorify his family legacy--however meaningless it might be. But if a son is to lead his house, they must glorify themselves, and make a name even greater than their parents before them. I’m greater than your grandfather, and you must achieve the greatness that surpasses me.”

  Alek nodded. The two men entered Hiomi’s Hanging Gardens, and there stood Svetlana with Karolin and Otto. Svetlana bowed and left without saying a word.

  “What business brings you here today?” Varus asked.

  “I come to conclude negotiations regarding Lector Ricci’s estate,” Otto said. “Grand Vicar Rodrigo has given Inquisitor Karolin full authority to negotiate and act on his behalf. I thought it best if all of us meet and arrive at a mutually beneficial agreement.”

  Varus thought it quite odd to give an inquisitor the power to negotiate an estate on behalf of the church. “Inquisitor Karolin. Care for a drink? You looked quite parched.”

  “No thank you,” Karolin said.

  “Very well,” Varus said. “Let us conclude this matter.” Did Grand Vicar Rodrigo expect she could hold her ground against Varus? She was an inquisitor, after all. Or did she have an ulterior motive?

  “Before we begin, my lords,” Karolin said, “I might save us all a lot of time. I’m not here to negotiate. I’m here to oversee and collect the Grand Vicar’s payment.”

  They concluded the deal. What am I missing? Varus squinted.

  “Inquisitor Karolin,” Otto suggested, “perhaps you would care to meet at the Medistein Bank branch here in Avictfell.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know they way,” she replied, “but I would care to accompany you to the bank.”

  Otto smiled. “But of course. Please give me and the Lord Karvyean a moment of privacy.”

  “I will...” Karolin paused and glanced around. “I will look at the flowers.”

  Otto glanced at Alek with the obvious intent for Varus to dismiss him. “I could accompany my lady--Inquisitor Karolin.” Alek offered.

  “I would appreciate the company. We can exchange stories about your brother. He was a great man. I imagine it will be difficult to step from beneath his shadow.”

  Karolin spoke of his son differently than he had known him. Had Viktor proved himself during the Expedition or was it mere flattery? “No,” Varus answered. “Today Alek is learning the art of negotiating. He will observe, nothing more.”

  “I understand,” Otto said.

  Karolin bowed and walked along the path before stopping to admire some orchids. Varus kept a close watch on her. Once Karolin seemed far enough away to overhear any conversation, Otto spoke again. “My condolences for your loss. I cannot possibly understand how you feel, to lose one’s son.”

  “He died to me long ago,” Varus said. “The recent events are merely confirmation of what had already happened in my heart. Besides, I have another son and heir now.” Varus clapped Alek on his shoulder. Alek smiled.

  Otto’s eyes widened a bit. “I see.”

  In his peripheral vision, Karolin gave a dismissive shrug and glanced about. “Pardon my lord,” Karolin interrupted. “The garden bores me. I’ll see myself out.” Karolin trod upon the path and departed the garden.

  Once she had left, Otto continued. “The Grand Vicar and I have come to an arrangement which is more than adequate. I have convinced the Grand Vicar to drop his claim to the estate for a partial payout.”

  “How much?”

  “Half,” Otto said too quickly.

  “How reasonable of his holiness. I assume I’m expected to agree to the other half.”

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  “Yes,” Otto said as he retrieved some papers. “It would be easier to sit at a table and discuss this.” Otto handed Varus the documents, some fell to the ground. He bent over to pick them up. Yes, it would be easier, but I want you uncomfortable when you are negotiating with me.

  Otto pointed to the number on the sheet. “Here you will find the appraised value of the Ricci lands the Imperial Crown graciously gifted Lector Ricci. The Grand Vicar has already agreed to the appraisal. You see his seal here.”

  “Apologies Otto,” Varus said, “I’ve always been more of a commander than a banker. Help me understand what I’m looking at.”

  Otto spoke slow and even toned. “That figure is the agreed-upon value of the land. The Grand Vicar will relinquish all land back to the Crown and drop the claim for a fifty percent payout.”

  “The land’s value will cut into my gold payout?” Varus feigned confusion.

  “Yes, m’lord,” Otto said, “which would leave you with thirty percent of the remaining gold.”

  “Otto, when you last left, I stated the Crown gifted the land. By law, it returns to the Imperial demesne. Have you forgotten my demands for the entire estate?”

  “You did, m’lord, as did the Grand Vicar. Both were quite persistent in your intention toward the estate. But I persuaded the Grand Vicar to reason.”

  “Surely you can’t expect the Crown to take such losses on a loan. You’re a bank, after all. You must have the gold to pay for the entire estate.” Otto’s eye twitched. Varus found his tell. The reason for all this trouble. Was the Medistein Bank must be short of liquidity? Did they lack enough gold to cover the Ricci estate accounts?

  “The Medistein Bank has had a rapport with the Houses of Karvyean and Malgais. I see no reason that relationship cannot continue.”

  An indirect answer. “I do,” Varus stated flatly.

  “Begging your pardon m’lord,” Otto stammered. “If I have offended you, m’lord, I apol--”

  “I think the Medistein Bank has run out of gold. Your bank is over-leverage and cannot afford to pay the estate even partially. What ramifications would a bank run have I wonder? Have you--”

  “M’lord, you misunderstand--”

  “Do not interrupt me. You know my reputation, Otto. What does the empire call me?”

  “Undaunted, m’lord.”

  “I imagine you’ve heard the stories?” Otto paled. “Of course you have. Everyone from here to Lyrea has recounted some rendition. Since you know the story, I’ll spare you the details, but I assure you that the name is fitting and does not merely refer to my courage.”

  “M’lord is valiant.”

  Varus ignored the supplicant compliment. “You mustn’t believe all the court gossip. But some are true. Stories concerning what I did to my brother and uncle for betraying me. Don’t mistake mercy and forgiveness.” Otto swallowed hard. Varus paused with a cold stare, letting Otto’s imagination contemplate his words.

  Otto spoke. “M’lord, you’re indeed correct. However, respectfully, I don’t think you have considered all the consequences of what it is you’re suggesting. Should a bank run happen, you would recover a portion of the estate, valued at seventy-three percent to be exact. You would retain a value greater than half, but in terms of opportunity cost, the Crown would also lose its primary source of lending. Yes, the Medistein Bank would fall to ruin, but ask yourself, what other bank would dare loan gold to the Imperial Crown after seeing they caused a bank run on its prior lender? Consider the contagion. What ramifications and destruction would spread throughout the empire?”

  Varus admired a red rose as he considered Otto’s words of wisdom. If the Crown no longer had a source of lending, the effects would ripple like down causing House Karvyean’s downfall, his legacy’s destruction, and everything he had worked to achieve, and that could not happen.

  “It seems to avoid mutual destruction we must agree with mutual benefit,” Varus said. “Very well, Otto, here’s my proposal. The Crown will accept your valuations of the Imperial lands. However, we can add that to the total value of the Ricci savings accounts. The Grand Vicar can have the land. If you cannot pay in gold, then you can pay in salts and Essemancy scrolls. This should keep your bank solvent, allow you to uphold your agreement with the church, and most importantly, satisfy me.” Varus needed salts, not gold. Otto had fallen into his trap. How would he respond?

  “M’lord, I’m open to covering the debt with salts, but I will deduct the Crown’s lands from the estate. After speaking with you, I’ve made a decision. That land, by Imperial law, as you stated, supersedes the church law and legally should revert to the Imperial demesne. We can settle the Ricci savings accounts with salts.”

  “Very well,” Varus agreed. “The Crown gets the land returned and you will pay the remaining Ricci account out in salt.”

  Otto smiled and held out his hands. “We both know we value salts well more than gold. Did a riot regarding the salt tax not place us in this predicament, to begin with?”

  Damn. When had Otto learned of the reason for Lector Ricci’s death? “Very well, I will accept a payout valued at twenty-five percent of the account and copies of all known Essemancy scrolls that Markus recovered from his Expedition.”

  “M’lord, you cannot expect me to part with the Cipher Scroll. I’ll agree to a thirty percent payout in Essemancy salts, but no runes or scrolls. This should cover your salt tax shortage three times over.”

  Cipher Scroll. What was that? Otto seemed unaware of the mistake. Varus needed whatever this Cipher Scroll was. He knew of other Essemancy abilities beyond telepathic clairvoyance and empathy. With that piece of knowledge, House Medistein would no longer have a monopoly over the Essemancy powers. As it stands now, they controlled the salt trade and the market price. Fortune smiled on Markus the Magnificent during the First Great Expedition and turned a man from a pirate into the largest banking family in the empire. Varus wanted more, but he knew Otto would die before divulging any runic scrolls. He had negotiated all it’s land back after his father’s disastrous backing of Lector Ricci decades ago.

  “I accept your offer,” Varus said. “Let’s put seals on it.”

  Otto frowned but extended his hand. Varus shook it. Otto’s grip was firmer than expected.

  “M’lord this is how you know we’ve reached a fair deal. Neither party is happy.”

  He found truth in Otto’s words, not feeling satisfied at all. He settled for possession of salt now. Future opportunities to get the runes would arise. “If the Grand Vicar Rodrigo’s agent is overseeing his interests, then I insist my son Alek oversee mine.”

  “Naturally,” Otto agreed with a smile.

  “Alek, go acquaint yourself further with Inquisitor Karolin.”

  “Yes, Father.” Alek exited the garden the same way Karolin had.

  Varus and Otto strolled back to his chambers. Now that business had concluded, Varus turned to a more pleasant conversation. He intended to continue to do business with the Medistein Bank, and it would be best if Otto left without a bad taste in his mouth. The walk took longer than necessary. Varus recited various facts about the flora that inhabited the gardens. Once they arrived at the office, Otto wrote up the contract, poured the wax, and both men pressed their signet rings into the wax.

  Otto picked up the paper and blew on the wax to hasten its cooling. “I’ll arrange delivery of the salts from my print shop here in the city.”

  A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Varus said.

  The door opened, and Alek appeared. “Master Medistein,” Alek said, “Inquisitor Karolin informed me to tell you that she grew tired of waiting and will meet you at the bank branch.”

  Otto nodded. “Thank you, your Highness.” He turned back to Varus. “I must make my leave and make the necessary arrangements. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours. Lord Varus, would you like to arrange for your son to meet at the bank and oversee the transfer?”

  “Yes, the bank is located by your printing shop, correct?” Varus asked.

  “Yes, m’lord.”

  “Any chance you could get the heralds to stop spreading the news my father gives them?”

  Otto’s feet shuffled between him, and he twisted the rings on his fingers. “He is the emperor, m’lord...”

  “Yes, he is. It would make maintaining order easier, is all. News Expedition’s failure had disturbed the commonfolk. Some even fear the Julk might retaliate. People panic, they turn to robbery and riots. Which might turn into a revolt. We wouldn’t want that.”

  “I’ll speak with heralds, m’lord.”

  “That would be acceptable. Svetlana will escort you to your coach.” He stepped aside and gestured for Otto to follow her.

  Otto rolled up the contract, placed it in a scroll case, and with an elaborate flourish, left the room.

  Varus turned to his son, Alek. “You did well to stay quiet. I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson here today. Otto played right into my hands. House Karvyean doesn’t need gold--we need salt--to extend our reach and govern the empire. More importantly, we need this Cipher Scroll. The world is changing, son. This Essemancy Enlightenment has only shown us a morsel of its power. These salts will secure the Karvyean dynasty for another century. That dynasty fell on my shoulders long ago. As my heir, one day it will fall on yours.” He grabbed Alek by both shoulders and stared into his eyes. “I always preferred you over Viktor. His death has helped us, helped you. Alek, you need to become an heir worthy of this house, and I need you now.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Go monitor the transfer of salt. This salt will allow us to maintain order. It is the first step. One day soon, we will get this Cipher Scroll as well. Son, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Essemancy is the way of the future. The commonfolk do not understand it, nor do half the nobles among them. They lack vision, they cling to the lies of the church. They put their hope in a single book and empty words spoken from men in white garbs.”

  Alek looked uncomfortable. “Are you telling me to doubt the word of Tellius?”

  “No son. I am teaching you the ways of power. Power is not the sword, castle walls, or gold. It’s in one’s will, and words are your tools to achieve it.”

  “You’re saying the Grand Vicar, Tellius, it’s all lies?” Alek asked, confused.

  “I’m saying there are ways of maintaining order beyond what most people perceive. It’s one thing to refuse to believe a lie, but you are a fool if you refuse the truth.”