The Line of Illeniel m-2

by Michael G. Manning

  I looked at the banker; he was on all fours clutching at the carpet beneath his desk as if to anchor himself. I wasn’t sure what had happened but there was no need to let him know that, “You were saying something about how solid the bank is Mister Aston? I don’t think I caught all of it. Perhaps you’d like to repeat yourself?”

  His face was blank, “Uhh…” He seemed to have lost the power of speech.

  “Perhaps you’d better go get those account books so we can get down to business?” I suggested amiably.

  “But I can’t…” he started.

  “Can’t is an ugly word Mister Aston. Let’s keep a positive outlook. Go fetch the books so I can get out of your hair. I’m sure you have a lot of other work to do,” I gave him a reassuring smile.

  The blood had drained out of his face. My smile sometimes has that effect. He got up and started to leave the room, “I think perhaps you’re right Lord Cameron. Let me get my assistant and we’ll sort things out as quickly as we can.”

  “Please tell my bodyguard and maidservant to come back in on your way out.” I had to stifle a giggle at the thought of calling Penny a maidservant, but I managed to keep it in.

  Penny and Cyhan came back in immediately after he left. As soon as the door shut she gave me a questioning glance, “What did you do?” She seemed to have forgotten her anger at being called a servant. Meanwhile Cyhan was glaring at me. I got the feeling I had made my situation with him worse, but I couldn’t be sure.

  I tried to calm her down, “Nothing. It wasn’t me! I just heard the voice again and this time I told it to go ahead and shake things up. I had no idea that things would actually shake!”

  “You’re hearing voices already?” Cyhan interrupted. He said it as if he had expected something of the sort.

  “Just every now and then, but I’m not crazy. Honestly… I know the voices aren’t my own,” the more I talked the crazier I sounded. It couldn’t be helping my case with him. I wondered what would happen if he thought I had truly lost my mind. Would he try to hurry up the bonding, or just murder me in my sleep? Before we could finish our conversation Mister Aston returned with two assistants and several heavy looking ledgers. I was grateful for the interruption.

  The next hour was a confusing mess of numbers and accounting. Having decided to cooperate; Mister Aston had become the very soul of courtesy and helpfulness. My father’s company had closed a few years back but they had continued operating for over ten years after he died, while paying in his share of the profits to the bank. The Count di’Cameron had also been a dutiful saver when it came to preparing for the future. Once Aston had finally summed everything up I was stunned at the total. I immediately understood why the bank had been reluctant to let me have the funds.

  “Wait, could you repeat that for me?” I asked.

  “Twenty six thousand four hundred and twenty three gold marks in liquid assets, plus a six percent interest in the Royal Bank of Lothion,” Aston repeated dutifully. “Then you also have to consider your land assets, the mining operations in the southern Elentir copper mines and the wool factorage in Gododdin…”

  “Wool factorage?”

  “A trading concern there, buying and selling wool, presumably your father invested in it due to the high prices of wool here in Lothion. A good portion of the shipping his other company handled was wool. After the government in Gododdin collapsed the factorage stopped shipping to Lothion, which caused Trigard Export to fall into a slow decline. Although the two nations are no longer trading actively his interests in the wool factorage are still there. I don’t have up to date numbers but the Bank of Gododdin should still be keeping records of his profits there, whatever they may be.”

  In spite of the chaos of a civil war and rebellion the bank was still operating normally? I guess banks could care less about matters of government and religion… business goes on. My mind was still reeling from the shock of what he had told me. “What exactly does six percent interest in the Bank of Lothion mean exactly? Is that interest paid on my cash assets here?”

  “Oh no! That’s six percent ownership in the bank. Your accounts receive a small dividend on all bank profits each quarter. Now if you’d like to sell off your shares in the bank we could probably find a buyer rather quickly…” Aston’s eyes lit up with greed.

  “No that’s quite alright,” I stopped him. “I think I’ll leave the hard assets alone for now. The numbers you’ve been quoting me are a lot more than I expected. Are all the nobility so rich?” I felt foolish for asking but the shock had given my self-control a blow.

  Mister Aston snorted, “Hardly! Quite a few are in debt to the bank. You’re probably the fourth or fifth richest man in Lothion at present. The king has considerably more, and the duchies of Tremont and Lancaster are doing very well of course. Most of your monies come from your father’s accounts. The Cameron accounts were respectable but the Illeniels have been building wealth since the nation was founded.”

  A thought occurred to me, if I had let… whatever that was… destroy the bank I would have been destroying my own property. I almost chuckled. “I’ll need to withdraw some money for my return home, about five thousand marks should do.”

  The banker blanched at the figure but kept his thoughts to himself, “Very good.”

  “I also would like a letter of credit written out for Lady Rose Hightower, so that she may draw upon the rest,” I continued.

  “Excuse me?” he choked.

  “Which part was unclear?”

  “How much credit do you wish for her to be permitted to draw upon?” he asked carefully. It looked as though he had swallowed a bone.

  “The ‘rest’ would imply all of it, except the hard assets of course,” I replied sarcastically.

  “But… she could bankrupt you!” he was almost shouting. He might have made me angry but for the fact he was now trying to protect my interests. I thought harder then… he must be protecting his own interests as well. I didn’t know much about finances, but at a guess the bank might not have that much in available coin. He might be worried Rose would render the bank insolvent by withdrawing more than their available cash reserves. It would also partly explain his original efforts to slow down my access to my accounts.

  “Mister Aston, I understand your fears. I trust Lady Rose implicitly, the bank however I am still not so sure of. I realize that were she to use the entirety of that money it might place the bank in an awkward situation. I do not think she will need to do so, at least not immediately. In the meantime I think it would be best for the bank if it were to spend the next month making sure it has sufficient cash reserves that it is not relying upon the balance in my accounts to remain solvent.”

  He flushed, “Are you implying…”

  I interrupted, “I’m not implying anything Mister Aston. You know your bank far better than I do. Make sure she has access to those funds. If she has any problems drawing on my accounts I will have to return to Albamarl, and I won’t be happy.” I gave him a hard stare.

  “Very well my lord, I think we understand each other,” Aston wasn’t happy but he could tell when his back was against the wall.

  After that he drew up the letter of credit and had it signed and notarized. Getting the five thousand marks out of the bank turned out to be a much larger chore than I had realized. That much coinage weighed nearly four hundred pounds. In the end we had to leave and purchase a couple of mules and some sturdy leather packs to load the money into. For some reason the task put me in a good mood. Something about the feeling of having several hundred pounds of gold, in my ‘pocket’ as it were, gave me a lighthearted feeling. Told you I’m a fool. Any sane man would have realized how dangerous having that much money around would be.

  Chapter 13

  We went to the Lancaster’s city house. I had promised to meet Marcus and Rose there before we set out for Washbrook. Once again we had to rely on Cyhan’s knowledge of the city to find it. Neither Penny nor I had ever been there.

  C
yhan seemed on edge the entire way. He kept turning to watch behind us. “This is the most foolish thing I’ve ever known any man to do,” he said finally.

  “Try living with him,” Penny added.

  “What?” I could only assume they were talking about me.

  Penny’s eyes lit on me, “What do you think? We’re walking around the city with several hundred pounds of gold, casually loaded onto a couple of mules. You’re asking for trouble.”

  Ahh, of course, they were worried about the gold, “As far as anyone knows it could be sacks of grain loaded on those mules. Assuming you can keep your voice down about it.” I had already put shields around both of them so I was hardly concerned. I couldn’t imagine any street thugs being able to threaten us in any meaningful way.

  “Grain isn’t that heavy Mort. Besides, plenty of people already know exactly what we carried out of that bank,” she replied.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as Mister Aston and everyone else that works at the Royal Bank, idiot.”

  “I hardly think the bankers have any reason to rob us, they hardly seemed the type anyway. What would they do? Threaten us with their ledger books?” I laughed.

  Cyhan snorted, “Very likely they’d hire someone else to do the deed.”

  “You can’t hire thieves to steal gold. They’d take it for themselves,” I pointed out.

  “You’re right,” Cyhan agreed. “They would hire assassins and let them have the gold as a bonus.”

  “At least you have some sense,” Penny put in.

  “What would they have to gain from that?” I was genuinely curious.

  “Your letter of credit would immediately cease to be of value and the rest of the money would remain safely in the bank,” Cyhan answered immediately.

  I had to admit they had a point. I hadn’t considered all the possible motives. Not that there was much I could do about it at the moment. I expanded my awareness to keep a better watch around us. I would definitely have to give some more thought to our trip back home. They knew we were leaving, they knew where we were headed, and they knew when we would be traveling.

  We arrived at the Lancaster’s house. I had expected it to be magnificent and I wasn’t disappointed. It was actually built slightly back from the road with a small stone wall circling the property to provide privacy and protection for the family. A heavy wrought iron gate blocked access to the property. A bell stood beside it to ring for attention if there wasn’t anyone standing watch. Luckily there was someone there so we didn’t have to use it.

  “Mordecai is that you?” came the guardsman’s voice.

  I looked at him carefully; he was a man of nearly forty years, slim and sun-browned. “Wallace?” I asked. I wasn’t entirely sure, as a boy memorizing all the guardsmen’s names wasn’t high on my list of priorities.

  “Hah! It is you boy! Glad to see you. Hang on I’ll get the gate open in a moment. His grace said you would be coming by today.” He worked carefully to unlock the gate and then turned a small winch to swing the doors wide for us. He could have used a smaller door built into one side of the gate but the mules were too bulky to fit in that way.

  It felt good to see someone who knew me from my childhood days. It took some of the foreignness out of the situation. I hadn’t realized how home-sick the capitol had made me until just then. As I relaxed I felt the wind swirling around us and it almost seemed as if it were whispering. The air plucked at my hair and sent small leaves twirling about in the small inner courtyard. I smiled and took a deep breath. As the wind murmured to me I could see the trees along the western edge of the city, where the royal preserve came down to almost meet the city walls. A light rain there had scented the air with the fresh smells of earth and growing things.

  Penny’s hand on my shoulder interrupted my reverie, “Mort, are you alright?”

  “Sure why?” I looked at her, though it took a moment for my eyes to refocus on her.

  “You were just standing there smiling and muttering to yourself. Who were you talking to?” her dark brown eyes were full of concern.

  “No one, I was just listening to the wind… it was talking about the rain and…,” I caught myself. As soon as I had said the words, ‘it was talking’, her eyes had narrowed. “I mean I could smell the recent rain. It’s a lovely day out. I didn’t mean to worry you,” I finished instead.

  “Mordecai!” Marc shouted as he came out of the house to greet us. “How did it go at the bank? When I told father you were going he thought we might need to send a troop of guards to keep them from locking you up. He seems to think they’ll be none too happy to see you.” For a holy man and a saint he seemed remarkably like the same old friend I had always known.

  “Hah!” I answered, forgetting my mistrust and his new profession. “They were only too glad to greet us with open arms and throw open their coffers! They sent us along with this as a token of their kindness,” I gestured at the mules and their heavy load.

  Penny frowned, “He means they nearly tossed us out before he threatened to turn the bank into a pile of rock and sand.”

  Marcus laughed, although she hadn’t been making a joke. Penny was none too happy at how I had handled things at the bank. I couldn’t help but wonder at his good mood. “What’s got you so happy?” I inquired. “Did you make up with your father?”

  Marc’s face fell a bit, “No, he’s still mad as hell about my choice, but he’s adjusting. I’m just happy in general, though seeing you is always a plus. Since I accepted the goddess I’ve felt better in every way you can imagine. It’s like hearing music for the first time, after having been deaf my entire life.”

  He did look happy, but his reasons for it soured my own mood a bit. I changed the subject, “Has Rose showed up yet?”

  Marc’s eyes shifted, showing a hint of pity. He was probably inwardly lamenting that I would never know his goddess’ grace. “No she hasn’t come by yet. Who’s your large and well-muscled companion there?” He indicated Cyhan who was standing silently beside Penny.

  “Oh! Forgive my rudeness. Cyhan I’d like you to meet my good friend, Marcus Lancaster. Marcus this is Cyhan. The king has sent him with us to train my bond-bearer.” I stepped back and the two of them shook hands quickly.

  “By bond-bearer he means me,” Penny put in. She was making sure I didn’t forget who my choice was.

  “The fighting prowess of the Anath’Meridum is legendary. Seeing you I begin to understand why,” Marc said as he released Cyhan’s larger hand.

  “I was never chosen,” Cyhan replied, “but I have been involved in the training of several.”

  “He taught Mort’s mother, Elena,” Penny added. Cyhan grimaced slightly when she said it.

  “Why the face?” Marc asked. “You must be proud to have had such a student. My father tells me that Elena was the deadliest fighter he had ever seen.”

  “The Anath’Meridum are not judged by their fighting skills, but by how they live up to their oath and their pact. In that Elena was a failure. My shame lies in that I trained the first and only Anath’Meridum to willfully break her oath.” Cyhan’s statement was devoid of emotion though it struck me like a slap in the face.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” My voice was cold.

  “Nothing more than what I said. My intention is not to offend, but Elena broke her oath and failed in her trust. There can be no greater sin for one of the Anath’Meridum,” the big man replied coolly.

  “So you would rather she had stayed and died? That I had died with them? Is that it?”

  “It is not my place to judge such matters. She failed and now we face possible war as Gododdin maneuvers to get their hands upon an unbound wizard.” Cyhan’s face might as well have been carved from stone as he spoke.

  “For someone who trains elite bodyguards you seem to feel it would be better for me to be dead.” I was angry but I kept my emotions in check.

  “You clearly do not understand the Anath’Meridum,” the warrior replied.
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  “You don’t understand the first thing about me,” I shot back.

  “You are angry because I said your mother was a failure. Yet if you examine yourself better you may understand some of my feeling. Your friend stands before you, and yet he has become something very close to what the Anath’Meridum are meant to prevent. Can you still trust him when you know he bears a being within him that hungers to possess you? Has he not failed you in much the same way?” He spoke calmly, which only drove the spike into my heart that much more painfully.

  “You arrogant bastard!” I had lost it. Without thinking I drove my fist at him. At close distance and with little warning even someone like me should have connected… but I didn’t. Without seeming to move the warrior turned slightly and my fist found only air. With a smile he caught my elbow and his other hand came up to push my shoulder. A few seconds later I was looking up at him from the ground.

  “If you want to attack me magic would be a better course of action. Your anger does you no good service.” His words mocked me without emotion.

  “Like hell,” I said and swept my legs across to knock his feet out from under him, at least that was the plan. He was ready for it and rather than let me sweep his legs he leapt upward and toward me. As he came down he drove his right boot into my midsection, even with my shield I felt the force of it. He had meant to drive the wind from my lungs.

  Marcus had never been one to stand idly by, when he saw Cyhan’s foot hit my belly he stepped up to defend me. He moved gracefully, like a natural boxer, one hand lashing out to strike the bigger man in the stomach. Being quick he almost landed the punch, but the older warrior was quicker, bringing one hand down he knocked Marc’s jab out of line. I rolled out from under his feet as they began trading blows. Marc was quick, he had always been a natural athlete but he was no match for the older veteran.