by T J Muir
A
CHANGE
OF LUCK
The Chanmyr Chronicles Book Five
TJ MUIR
ALSO BY TJ MUIR
THE CHANMYR CHRONICLES
Book One: On Borrowed Luck
Book Two: Luck's Pawn
Book Three: Before Luck Runs Out
Book Four: Between Luck and Magic
Book Five: A Change of Luck
Book Six: In Luck's Shadow (spring 2019)
CHANMYR CHRONICLES COMPANION STORIES
A Soldier’s debt
Poking the Bear
When the Wind Calls
The Trouble with Luck
Stolen Luck
A Different Kind of Luck
Copyright ©2019, TJ Muir. All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.
Cover design by Mon Puasa Jr.
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CHAPTER ONE
A light breeze wafted through the open windows as Diya and her father walked down the marble hall, Diya’s shoes clicking on the polished marble floors imported from the far side of Chanmyr, echoing faintly along the long hall. She barely heard the sound of her own feet next to the louder, deeper tapping sound of her father’s leather boots. She could hear the impatience and irritation in the tempo of his steps. Normally when they walked together, it was a leisurely stroll towards the family’s private gardens or dining room. Her father would ask her about her day, or she would tell him about her latest social event.
Most times, he was her father, warm and smiling, who doted on her and indulged her every wish. Not today. Today, he was silent and hurried. If that didn’t warn her that something was wrong, she could also tell something was wrong because of the way he was dressed. She noted the dark blue and grey of their House and his formal jacket with the silver fox emblem embroidered on it. It made him look regal and distant. Official.
Right now, his face was closed and guarded. He was So'har Rillyn of House Shaifen, one of the oldest ruling families in Tatak Rhe. He turned his head toward her as they walked, voice low but firm. “Remember, you aren't to speak or participate, but you will be allowed to sit in on this council. Sit, and observe.”
Looking at her father’s flawless attire, Diya nodded and straightened her vest. The summons had come unexpectedly, and she had been sulking in her room for several days. She wished now that she had washed and braided her hair, but this morning she couldn’t summon the interest. She regretted her lapse now. She had been sitting in her window, wondering where her friends were when her servant had come in carrying the message that her father was waiting-- in her outer chambers.
Her personal maid had helped her scramble into something presentable, a light grey shirt and charcoal colored skirt with her favorite blue vest. Maldi had tried to get Diya to dress in something more appropriate, but Diya didn’t feel like dressing up just so her father could berate her. Had she known she was being summoned to the family council, she would have listened to her maid. She felt a chill sense of foreboding.
Why was the inner council meeting? She had only been invited to sit in the council on one occasion: her Asha-Chenat ceremony preparation, when she became an adult..
As a woman, she wasn’t expected to understand the politics and government of the so’harat. The men inherited the rulership, even her father’s sisters didn’t hold positions of power. Those seats in the council were given to their husbands.
She couldn’t think of any reason that she would be required for an audience in front of the House Shaifen council. Only something related to immediate family but that also affected the so’harat would be sufficient to request her presence, something like a death in the family. But if someone had died, she would have heard.
A breeze blew, distracting her. It was thick with the scent of jasmine and roses. The smell of roses brought memories of Jay flooding back. Jay. She could see his blond hair and green eyes and the inquisitive look on his face whenever he learned something new. It hurt to think about him. She missed him more than she could have imagined missing anyone. He had shown up as a mysterious stranger, barely a year before. Golden-fair halfbreed, exotic and handsome.
They had become close friends, exploring the city and the archives. He made her think about things differently. Then they became lovers, and she loved him completely. She had hoped for a life with her wealthy foreigner, the son of fish merchants from the west. That had all crashed down around her without warning.
Jay had left in the middle of the night, barely escaping alive. At least, that was what he had told her. Why would he make up a story like that? She didn’t know what he had gotten involved in but she believed that he was genuinely afraid. As close as they had become, she was sure he must have a good reason to disappear without explaining himself, in person.
She touched her pocket where she had tucked his goodbye letter. Hastily scrawled and poorly written, his letter sent a sharp pain through her heart.
Diya,
I am sory to tell you this in a letter, but my life is in danjer and I need to leave. I have ben in the servis to So’har Hak’kar, and am just now realizing the extent of what he expects of me, and I refuse to harm my friends. Hak’kar has some sort of hold over your family. He intends to use it so he can forse you into marrying his son. You cannot marry this man, it will be the deth of you. Although I cannot prove it, I know that Hak’kar was behind the deths of Trey’s father and brother, and also Yaran. Please, you must stall and prevent this from happening. I will try and get in tuch with you again soon, I hope to find my family and find a place safe from Hak’kars rath, and then I can send for you.
Yours always,
Jay.
She wished he had taken her with him. A surge of anger rushed through her. How could he be worried for her but still abandon her?
This meeting must be connected to the letter.
Her heart raced in panic. What if this meeting was to announce a formal marriage? She felt ill. That would explain the summons. No. She refused to believe that. She trusted her father. He was a competent and astute ruler. Perhaps they had already come up with a solution that would put an end to the problem.
“Hurry along,” her father said, as they passed by the windows that opened out on their private gardens. Diya turned her head to look out on the lush greenery. The fountain splashed down into a large fish pond built of imported marble. Soon the winds would come from the south, bringing the hot weather from the coast and up the river. Along with the heat, it would bring the summer rains.
Beyond the treeline, she could see the Shaifen’s Yfa chirrik shimmering slightly in the sunlight with opalescent colors that defied definition. The sight of the majestic shell made her pause for a moment. Their so’harat did not depend on the rain as much as other areas. They had the yfa chirrik to direct water when it was needed. The sacred shells spiraled upwards in a majestic elegance that bespoke t
heir divine origin. They were the seed of each so’har’s power. It was the source and symbol of the family’s power. Such was the ruling class that she had been born into: vast tracts of land, elite social and political circles, and vast wealth that built lavish estates such as her family’s, House Shaifen.
Power that would never be hers.
Coming to a halt outside the door to the council room, Diya noticed the subtle but distinct transformation from her father into So'har Rillyn. Diya nodded to herself. She knew he wasn't stalling. This was a tactic she knew well. Her father was watching and listening to the chatter coming from inside. The carved wooden door was opened just enough that the two of them could see what was going on without being noticed. She took a step forward, trying to get a look inside. Her father's arm held her back. She was frustrated by the delay, curious now that she was finally going to get a chance to see what went on in council.
Thus far, his advisors were too wrapped up in their argument to look up, and he seemed content to keep it that way.
Uncle Ren’s fist crashed down on the table, sending a jolt through the room. “Tak!”
What had her youngest uncle done this time?
“What were you thinking?” Uncle Hazlo bellowed, raising the volume another notch. Diya knew that voice well. Her uncle liked raising his voice to make up for the authority he didn't have as Rillyn's younger brother. “Didn't it occur to you to bring this to the council for review? You had no right to make a transaction individually. This affects all of us!”
“It was just one simple deal. Nothing all of you haven't done in the past,” Tak said, defending his actions. “How was I to know there was so much debt attached to the land?”
“That's the point!” Hazlo bellowed. “You acted rashly. Trusting an adversary to make an honest deal. None of us would have been so foolish as to finalize a deal without consulting legal counsel first! Now we are stuck holding onto worthless properties and debt.”
“Is there some way to challenge the legality of the deal?”
“Unfortunately, no. So'har Hak'kar is a much shrewder businessman than Tak.”
“Can't we challenge the debt?”
“Again, no. While Hak'kar did something very questionable by changing the paperwork at the last moment and playing on Tak's naivete, the deal is iron-clad and legal. I'm sure he is laughing at us now.”
“None of that matters now.” Her mother's voice. That was strange. Why was mother attending the meeting? Diya leaned out farther and saw that mother wasn't the only woman in attendance. It looked like two of her aunts sat there as well. Was this a family matter that required her aunts instead of their husbands? She realized she had missed part of their conversation. Her mother interrupted her uncle Haz. “How we fix this mess is what’s important.”
“Thank you, Rethine.” Tak said. Diya could hear the relief in his voice.
Was she siding with Tak? Why is mother siding with him? She was usually the first one to call him rash and reckless. She had always liked Tak. Most people did. He was pleasant, funny and generous, but she also knew he was the least reliable of the four brothers.
Diya saw her uncles turn to glare at their youngest brother.
“You don’t get to have an opinion on this, brother.”
The acidic emphasis would have set anyone else back. Not Tak. “I am a member of this council, and I have every right to speak.”
Renjal had never held a good opinion of his younger brother. “You’re the reason we are meeting. And you would be wise to remember that you’re only here on sufferance.”
“Enough!” her father barked, making Diya jump.
CHAPTER TWO
The conversation within fell silent. Council members turned. So'har Kaz''Rillyn Shaifen strode into the room, a dark and menacing expression clouding his face. The silence stretched as he settled at the head of the council table. Diya marched in beside him and looked her uncles in the eye as she walked down the length of the table, daring any of them to question her presence.
Her father nodded to his left, towards a chair against the wall. Glancing around at the faces of uncles, aunts and advisors, Diya pulled the chair out and settled down. Once seated, the council seemed to forget her.
She breathed a sigh of relief and listened, practicing patience as the group bickered in now lower voices. Diya had a pretty good idea how things would go. Her uncles, Renjal and Hazlo, would stand in strong support with Father, although each had their own reasons for trying to remain unified as a council. While Hazlo’s concern and dedication were to the interests of the larger so’harat, Renjal’s loyalty was personal. The real question was what her father wished. That would determine Ren’s vote. Haz would remain objective and consider the interests of the so’harat above the family. She didn’t know either of her aunts’ husbands very well. Then there was Tak, who was the wild card.
Diya knew Tak well, the youngest of the boys, always trying to live up to expectations but never having the clear sight and level head his brothers had. It had gotten Tak into trouble on more than one occasion. This time, his foolishness was going to cost House Shaifen.
From the bits she could follow, between the insults, threats and name calling, she understood that So’har Hak’kar of House Charam had a hold over her family. Tak had been enticed into an expensive and reckless business deal when the so’harats’s resources were already over-stretched. In a short period of time, Diya learned that entire herds of sheep had been destroyed by goat plague and the surviving herd would take two or three years to recover. The same damp weather that had hit the sheep had caused a mold blight in the vineyards, affecting both grapes and olives. Thinking he would save the day, Tak had purchased vast tracts of land across the river to the west. Worse, he had used his brother as a signatory, and Hak'kar was holding the debt.
“We are now holding vast tracts of land, larger than the entire So'harat, that are barren and rocky with poor soil-” Haz said. He fingered a stack of papers in front of him that looked like ledgers.
“How was I supposed to know?” Tak interrupted. “How was I supposed to know the land was too far away from a working shell and that no one had been working it for ages?”
“A shell that isn’t working!” Haz bellowed.
“Isn’t working at capacity! That is what I was told!”
“Not working at all!”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
Haz glared at his younger brother. “That is the entire point! You should have known! You should have gone there yourself, or at the least sent a trusted agent to survey it. At the very least, you should have had an experienced magistrate approve the paperwork.”
“I did!”
“No!” Haz shouted. “You conferred with a man that Hak'kar recommended. Hak'kar's man.”
“I saw surveys, maps of the land. It showed buildings--” Tak continued to defend himself.
“Dilapidated and abandoned buildings from previous failed attempts to make the land workable! A failed farm. A failed mill. A failed land!”
“How was I supposed to know that Hak’kar would buy the debt?”
“He was behind the entire transaction!” Haz glared at his younger brother, but Tak didn't flinch despite the mess he had created for the family. Diya wondered where this land was. How had Tak gotten talked into it?
“Just take the deal,” Tak was saying. “It isn’t a bad arrangement. House Charam has connections, and influence.”
What deal? Did one of them have a solution to the debt?
“Of course it’s a bad arrangement,” Hazlo said, raising his voice over Tak’s. “You let that man inside the so’harat, and it will never be under our control again.”
Tak crossed his arms, and rolled his eyes.
“You of all people should know this!” Hazlo spat.
“Thinking about it —” Renjal paused and cleared his throat, half-shrugging. “The girl does have to make a match with someone. Perhaps, this is not such a bad arrangement, and there
is truth regarding Charam's influence and connections.”
Hak'kar has some sort of hold over your family. He intens to forse your father into marying you off to his son.
The bottom dropped out of Diya’s stomach. She barely had time to process the words. The deal they were discussing was the marriage proposal.
She noticed that Tak and her mother were the only ones to look away. Had they already known about this? Was there something else?
Her father saved Diya from breaking her agreement to remain silent by asking, “Are you proposing we actually consider this offer?”
Diya watched her uncle. He licked his lips and worked his mouth, as though the words left a bad taste. Did Ren actually think this would be good for the so’harat? Who was he protecting?
“There is truth, that Diya will have to make a match. Many of her age group are already promised. Many are already wed.” Diya could tell he was trying to sound pragmatic, but his words sounded wrong. “Why not Hak'ket?”
Hak'ket! That's what they were arguing about? Why was her family actually considering this? She looked over to her father. He was just sitting there, listening to everyone. He would have a solution, just like he always did, unexpected and cunning, outfoxing the fox, but his face looked distant, distracted.
Say something!
He remained silent.
She knew her father. He wasn’t going to shout, or blame Tak. She knew father’s ways. He was thinking about the well-being of his immediate family and weighing that against the needs of the So’harat. That didn’t bode well for Diya. She sent an imploring look to her aunts, feeling completely helpless, but they wouldn’t meet her gaze. Do something! Say Something! None of them looked at her. Guilty or resigned, Diya couldn’t tell.
Questions raced through her mind. What was Jay's connection to Hak'kar? What kind of service? Had Jay been part of putting together this business arrangement? Had he helped arrange this marriage proposal? No! He couldn’t have. She refused to believe it. Maybe he had helped Hak’kar make the deal with Tak? Did Jay know Tak? There was no way she could ask her questions without giving herself away. She had no intentions of doing that until she could figure out what was going on. Besides, she had been commanded not to participate.