He went into his sleeping chamber and opened the armoire that held his jackets, looking until he found the greenish gray jacket he had been wearing. The letter was still there. He carried it into the sitting room and eased it onto the few coals still with a reddish hue, then watched as the flames slowly appeared and began to consume the paper. When he’d written the letter, what he’d put down would have been innocent enough, but after what had happened to Bhayrn, the words could have been taken in entirely the wrong way, particularly the phrase about the way things were going, other avenues appeared more productive than worrying about how to be accurate with pistols.
I’ll need to be even more careful about anything put to pen now.
At that instant, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” Charyn glanced at the hearth, but the letter was only partly consumed and still recognizably a letter.
“Come see me when you have a moment.”
There was no mistaking his mother’s voice. If the letter had still not been burning and obvious, he just would have opened the door, given that he was alone and unoccupied, Palenya having left before breakfast.
Instead, he said, “I’ll be there shortly.”
Charyn waited a few moments, stirred the ashes with the poker, and then made his way to her sitting room.
“You didn’t have to hurry.”
“I was already dressed. I was just thinking.” He offered a wry smile as he seated himself on the settee. “Not that I had any great insights.”
“I’ve talked to your father about some of your recent activities. Initially, he was less than pleased.”
“I imagine that is more than a slight understatement,” replied Charyn sardonically.
“However…” Chelia drew out the word in a way that emphasized her refusal to comment on his observation. “He does concede that your use of the land name in gaining access to the exchange is prudent, and that it would be unwise not to allow you to continue to frequent the exchange and to gain whatever information you are able that might prove useful.”
He’s not about to admit that to me. But even an indirect concession was better than none. “I will let him know of anything I discover that could affect him or us.”
“I thought you would.”
“Have you any plans for today?”
“I was thinking about that.”
“You might consider spending some time with Aloryana.”
“Because she’s effectively restricted to the chateau?”
“She’s also worried.”
“The words in the threat? Beloved?”
“How would you take them?”
“Most likely the way she is—that you, or Aloryana could also be a target, and that whoever is behind the threat wanted to make that clear.”
“What does that tell you?”
“That whoever is behind the threats knows something about the family … or knows someone who does. I’d suspect the latter.”
“Your reason for that suspicion?” asked Chelia.
“No one in the family is close to any factors. Father and I are the only ones with any real contact at all, and I’ve never mentioned family at all, except for very general statements about Father. Given Father, I doubt he’s said anything at all.”
Chelia nodded once more.
When she said nothing more, Charyn smiled. “I’ll see what I can do about cheering up Aloryana.”
“Thank you.”
Charyn rose, inclined his head, then turned and left the sitting room, sensing her eyes on his back.
After first going to the music room, and seeing no one there, Charyn found Palenya in the small study that was hers, formerly a small storage space that barely accommodated a narrow table and chair. “I have a favor to ask.”
She immediately stood. “You don’t have to ask.”
“I much prefer to ask. I’d like you to help me learn the part of the duet you were teaching Bhayrn to play with Aloryana, and then work with both of us. Starting right now, if you would.”
“You worry about her?”
Charyn nodded. He wasn’t about to admit he wouldn’t have known if his mother hadn’t brought it up. Also, Samedi was a good day, since he had far more free time.
“That would be better. She’ll never understand how it should feel by playing it with your brother.”
Understated as Palenya’s words were, Charyn saw no point in admitting that directly. “It’s another way of showing concern.” He smiled wryly. “At least, I hope it is.”
“She enjoys playing. So do you. If she did not … then it might be different.” Palenya went to the music cabinet, opened it, and took out a bound sheaf of paper. She returned, placed it on the music rack of the clavecin, and looked to Charyn. “Go ahead. Let’s see how well you can do.”
Charyn seated himself at the bench, looked at the score, then began to play, ready to listen to whatever corrections or observations Palenya might have.
She said nothing until several moments after he finished, then asked, “You never played this music before?”
“I’ve heard it often over the past week,” Charyn replied. More than I wanted to … particularly played the way Bhayrn did.
“Not that often. You’ve been away from the chateau too much to have heard it very many times.”
“It seemed often.” He kept his tone light and waited for her comments.
“You played all the right notes.”
“Meaning that my tempos, fingering, and interpretation leave something to be desired? And I need to work on improving them all?”
“If you want to play it the way Farray composed it,” replied Palenya, with an amused smile.
“Then, let’s go over it, and you can tell me what to do differently.”
“The first four measures are meant to be tentative … curious. See the markings above?”
“I thought that was meant to be…” Charyn shook his head and played the first four measures.
“Better … but linger a touch after the third beat…”
After a glass following Palenya’s tutoring, Charyn was perspiring, even though the music room was cool, almost cold, as was most of the chateau, at least those chambers where there were no fires in the hearths. He blotted his forehead with his sleeve, then looked up to see Aloryana standing just inside the music room door.
“I thought I was going to play that with Bhayrn,” Aloryana said.
“I decided I wanted to, also,” Charyn said. “You can still play it with Bhayrn, if you want. We’ve never played a duet before, and I didn’t know when we might get the chance again.”
“That’s true. We … I’d like that.”
Charyn wondered what Aloryana had been about to say, but he wasn’t about to ask with Palenya present. “Bhayrn didn’t seem pleased to play the duet, and I wanted to do something more than ride with you or play plaques. We can play plaques later, after we practice with Musician Palenya.” He turned to Palenya. “Would you mind letting us play it, and then taking us through it?”
“If you both would like that.”
Aloryana eased onto the bench beside Charyn.
“Just play through it,” Palenya added, “I’d like to listen before I make any corrections or suggestions.”
After Charyn and Aloryana had practiced for close to an hour, Palenya said, “I think that’s enough. You’re both tired. You’re making mistakes because you are.”
“How are we doing?” asked Aloryana.
“How do you think you’re doing?” replied the musician.
“Better. It’s much easier to play with Charyn.”
“You’ve answered your own question.”
“Can we do this again tomorrow?” asked Aloryana, looking first to Charyn and then Palenya.
“If Musician Palenya is willing.”
“In the morning would be better,” offered Palenya.
“Ninth glass?” suggested Charyn, knowing that Palenya was not obligated to work on Solayi, and also not
wanting to get up too early.
Palenya nodded, offering Charyn a knowing smile when Aloryana looked away.
As he stood, Charyn said to his sister, “I did promise you a game or two of plaques.”
“I’d like that. I’ll see you in the parlor.”
When Aloryana hurried away, Charyn turned to Palenya. “Thank you.”
She shook her head. “Thanks are not necessary. Would that all lessons were that enjoyable.”
“Later?”
“Of course.”
Aloryana was waiting, standing by the plaques table, when Charyn finally walked into the family parlor. “I thought you’d be here sooner.”
“I needed to take care of a few things. I’d been sitting at the clavecin for more than two glasses.” Charyn smiled and gestured to the table.
As they sat down across from each other, Aloryana asked, “Why do you always call her ‘Musician Palenya’ when I’m around?”
“I call her that whenever anyone is around. She is a musician, and a good one, and she should be recognized for it. High Holders are given their title. So are factors. So are you. You’re now Lady Aloryana…”
“I am?”
“Now that Father allows you to attend balls.”
“I’m not old enough to be a lady.”
“No one would dream of saying otherwise.”
“It might be nice to be a lady for a little while.”
“You’ll always be a lady.”
“You don’t know that,” replied Aloryana.
“You’re the daughter of the rex. That means you’ll always be Lady Aloryana, no matter whom you marry … or even if you don’t.” Charyn noticed that Aloryana looked ready to dispute what he’d said.
Instead, she said, “It’s your turn to deal. I’m glad you don’t try to deal off the bottom the way Bhayrn does. That’s why I don’t mind losing when he does.”
Somehow, that didn’t surprise Charyn, either that Bhayrn cheated or that Aloryana knew it and dismissed it. But it saddened him, in a way.
He picked up the plaques and shuffled them.
10
So far as Charyn was concerned, Solayi was no different from Samedi, except that he didn’t have another talk with his mother … and he and Aloryana practiced the Farray clavecin duet for a solid glass. Charyn had no doubts that they sounded far better than Aloryana and Bhayrn had, and he found he enjoyed it for more than just making Aloryana happy.
Even so, he was up early on Lundi morning, and after spending a few moments with Norstan, he headed out for the exchange.
Once again, when he and Yarselt reached the exchange, he had to show the card to the guard. He had the feeling that would happen until every guard recognized him. He smiled politely and made his way to the wheat corn stall, but the price hadn’t changed that much, down a copper, and there were only two men there, talking to the stall manager.
“… might change … flood in east Piedryn … standing water … cut next year’s winter wheat crop…”
Charyn looked to the futures board, but didn’t see any difference in prices five or six months out. Still looking as though he were studying the boards, he kept listening.
“… not much difference, unless there’s a dry spring…”
As the three continued to discuss next year’s wheat corn crops, Charyn moved to the maize board, where there was also little activity, in fact, none. The next stall that had any activity was one he hadn’t even considered—sugar. Several factors or agents were bidding on lots. Charyn thought the lots had to be hundred-stone, but that was a guess on his part, and he didn’t want to ask. He also looked to the futures board, and the price in Fevier was a good four coppers higher than in Ianus, which was two coppers above the price of the last lot sold.
Why? Even as he asked himself the question, he realized the answer. Most sugar came from lands in Otelyrn … and was part of the trade being disrupted by Jariolan privateers.
As he watched, he couldn’t help but overhear part of a different conversation.
“… someone took a shot at the rex’s younger boy…”
Charyn tried not to react to being lumped with Bhayrn as a “boy.”
“… too bad it wasn’t the rex … new council keeps telling him…”
“… another ship lost … Namer-damned sowshit so far as sugar and spices … got word on Samedi…”
“… not the problem … High Holders … snotty council of theirs…”
“… doesn’t stand up to them…”
“… imagers … not doing much…”
“… least they did something once…”
The three agents who were talking abruptly turned and walked north toward the metals stalls.
Charyn did not follow but moved to the spices stall. Pepper didn’t seem to be any higher on present quotes, from what he recalled, but the Maris price was definitely higher. He made a slow tour of the stalls of interest, noting that tin was also markedly higher, then left the exchange. It was definitely going to take time to learn enough to feel comfortable about knowing what transpired at the exchange and what it all meant—although even he thought he understood the basics.
When he returned to the chateau, it was close to second glass. He’d considered stopping to see Elthyrd, but he decided against that, since he doubted he could learn that much more, given the comparatively short time that had passed since he last met with the factor. More important, Elthyrd might question him, and he really didn’t want to put the factor off by not answering the kind of questions Elthyrd might ask. And he certainly didn’t have any answers for Paersyt, although he had some ideas.
He had no more than stepped into the rear foyer of the chateau than Vaetor, the senior footman, walked toward him.
“Lord Charyn, Lady Chelia would like to see you in the receiving parlor.”
“At my earliest convenience?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then I will attend her.”
Charyn made one quick stop before making his way to the receiving parlor.
His mother was sitting in the corner armchair, apparently reading a letter. She set the letter aside, but did not motion for him to sit down. “Good. You’re here. I have some news for you.”
“Good news, I hope.”
“It’s certainly not bad news. We’re going to host a guest for a time, at least through the Year-Turn Ball,” Chelia announced. “I’ve already told Aloryana and Bhayrn, but you left the chateau early.”
“We haven’t hosted a guest in months. Who is it, some High Holder from Tacqueville or Asseroiles or Laaryn—or from some other Nameless-forsaken place—whom Father wants to replace Uncle Ryel?”
“Nothing that ground-shaking. Her name is Malyna D’Zaerlyn. She’s the youngest daughter of High Holder Zaerlyn.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“His holding is near Rivages. He also owns a massive ceramics facility somewhere, and some coal mines, I think. He’s one of the few High Holders who have always supported your father. Indirectly, but support is support. He does not maintain a house in L’Excelsis, and has visited here only twice in his life. He asked for the favor of allowing his daughter to attend the Year-Turn Ball. He was worried about having her stay with High Holders whose interests he does not share. Your father agreed to allow her to stay with us. Since Aloryana can’t go out that much, not at present, I didn’t think it would hurt for her to have feminine company closer to her own age.”
“And another woman of the proper standing as a model?”
“I understand she is quite her own woman, even at nineteen.”
“You’re not matchmaking, I hope?”
“From what I’ve heard, Charyn, she is anything but your type.”
Ugly, overweight, and loud, no doubt. “I see.”
“You don’t, but you will.”
Charyn had no doubts about that. He just hoped that the experience wasn’t exceedingly painful or tedious.
“She will arrive tomorrow.
She will need a gown for the ball. I doubt that anything she has will be adequate or in style.”
“Uncle Ryel is from Rivages, and I understand style has never been a problem for him and his family.”
“High Holder Zaerlyn is, shall we say, a bit more retiring. I much prefer that.” Chelia’s voice was cool.
“Uncle Ryel has always been reserved and polite at previous Year-Turn Balls. I have never met him at any other time. Not in recent years. Once he gave me shiny golds.”
“That’s because he can’t stand ones that are worn or soiled. They remind him of his earlier years.”
“Why?”
“It’s not something I wish to discuss.”
“Why not, might I ask?”
“Because you would not believe me, and you would believe him. That is how persuasive and charming he can be. The only people who can hold him in check are Maitre Alastar and Maitre Alyna. I believe he fears her more than him.” Chelia smiled. “I know, whatever you come to think of Malyna, you will be on your best behavior.”
“That, you can count on.” Even if it comes close to killing me.
“I know.” After a pause, Chelia added, “That’s all.”
Charyn inclined his head, then turned and left the receiving parlor.
Since he could hear no one playing the clavecin, he headed toward the music room. At least practicing his part of the Farray duet would take his mind off the questions that swirled through his thoughts, such as just who was High Holder Zaerlyn and why hadn’t Charyn ever heard of the High Holder if he had been so supportive? And why had his mother been so dismissive of the idea of matchmaking? Or was Malyna actually good-looking, but his parents preferred that he not be interested in her?
Or … He shook his head. He just didn’t know enough, especially about Zaerlyn and his daughter. But then, no one ever knew much about most High Holder’s daughters. They were there to be married and to produce heirs … and to be as decorative and as pleasant as possible. Aloryana has no idea how much more fortunate she is.
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