The Road to Hell - eARC (13 page)

Chava Busar was certainly not the sort anyone wished to cross lightly, and the avaricious emperor tended to offend with excruciating ease. Eniath had proved too tough to be swallowed easily by the Busars during King Junni’s reign, but it was always possible another attempt would be made in this same generation.

Last night’s dinner had been at a small Ternathian cuisine restaurant tucked in an out-of-the-way corner of Tajvana. Just a group of his fellow small kingdom princes together in a rented back room for an evening of simple food and very fine beer straight from the tap. The bartender had displayed healthily muscled arms and an even more impressive belly as he regaled the group with stories and elicited the most remarkable outpouring of their own worst childhood antics. The entire room had been laughing at Howan Fai’s tale of attempting to induce a stolen goat to eat his tutor’s lecture books and instead having the side of his trousers slimed and gnawed as the goat tried to get at the grain and molasses mix which he’d used to attract the beast and then absently stuffed in his own pockets.

If the bartender had somehow lost the gut overnight and grown a nose a size or two larger, he would be the prosperous man of business who’d trailed him through the last three jewelry stores, seemingly just another shopper. A shopper who was always interested in storefronts and stalls that which just happened to keep him on the same meandering path as Howan Fai and Munn Lii. He would have pegged the man as a thief except for the similarly muscled spotter set up at a corner cafe at an uncovered table with a full view of Gem Street. The table should have been empty in the cold winter drizzle, and the spotter should have been a child, or at most a poverty-slimmed man, if he’d truly been dealing with thieves desperate enough to try a snatch in broad daylight in this wealthy part of Tajvana. So
if
Howan Fai wasn’t simply imagining things, simple thievery wasn’t on the table.

He would have ended the shopping trip early and returned to the somewhat safer apartments being used by all the Conclave members, but family experience taught him not to trust a rented safe house. Besides, Uromathian intimidation tactics were usually much more blatant. These watchers seemed to be merely tracking his routine, so Howan Fai saw no reason to stop what he was doing just to let them get out of the cold.

His mother’s birthday was coming up in a few months, and she was far too valuable as a potential hostage to ever leave the security of Eniath. Trapped at home, she always loved it when he picked up something from his travels for her, but everything he’d seen so far could be bought in the flourishing stores of his father’s kingdom. He knew how much she’d longed to travel to Tajvana for the Conclave, and we wanted something truly special for her this year.

If Chava VII had him kidnapped, Howan Fai knew with white-knuckle certainty that it would be his duty to do his best to suicide. Unfortunate family experience had shown that tactic worked. One of Howan’s own great uncles had proven it.

All the Eniath royals knew how it would go. His father, King Junni, would pronounce him dead and transfer the inheritance to Howan’s younger brother, and Chava would get nothing from Eniath. They’d made certain the Uromathian emperor knew their deadly serious intent, because the knowledge granted the family a small measure of security from abduction.

His mother had every bit of the inner strength necessary to do the same, but she knew what the loss of a beloved wife would do to King Junni, his father. And so she’d put aside her love of foreign places and stayed safe at home for their entire marriage. The least Howan Fai could do was to find her an exotic bit of jewelry for her birthday.

If it weren’t so hard to focus, he’d have selected any of a dozen pieces by now, but he couldn’t blame his distraction on the shadows. A certain grand princess newly elevated to Imperial Crown Princess had been filling his thoughts. Which, he knew, was unforgivably stupid of the thoughts in question…or of the man thinking them, at any rate. He’d probably only ever see her again a handful of times during the rest of his lifetime, so why was his back brain incessantly thinking up ways he might snag an invitation to official events likely to be graced by her presence?

He remembered the reception where they’d first met. Her elegant height, nearly a foot and a half above his own, and her stunning gold-threaded black hair had drawn him across the room, for his mother was not the only one to find the exotic enticing. But then he’d been distracted by Finena her falcon, fallen into real conversation, and been stunned to discover he really, truly liked her.

More than just liked her, he admitted to himself. Oh, Andrin!

Howan Fai glanced down. The matched pair of teardrop rubies he fingered now were an utterly inappropriate present for his mother. She liked darkest green jade that brought out the warmth of her skin and the occasional turquoise or other semiprecious stones for their uniqueness. She didn’t like getting precious gemstones. His mother considered those only appropriate for wear at the most official state occasions when, as Queen of Eniath, she’d be expected to don the crown jewels passed down from his father’s mother instead of recently purchased gifts from her children.

Still, Howan Fai couldn’t help wondering if Imperial Crown Princess Andrin might not like a pair of earrings made up with these. There was no way he could make such a present without also making himself a fool, but he imagined she might very much like them. They weren’t the absolute highest quality rubies, so maybe to a Calirath they wouldn’t seem so expensive and could be worn almost everyday. And a certain something about the way the fire glinted inside the gems reminded him of her spirit.

With a sigh, he pushed away the beauties and selected a broach formed in the shape of a butterfly with a clever combination of worked silver and dyed pearls.

As he handed the shopkeeper his choice, Howan Fai examined the glass behind the jewelry counter to check his human shadow. The suspicious man was standing in front of a set of ladies’ bracelets in a large glass case with a mirrored back side. The man showed remarkably little interest in similar bracelets laid out on velvet without mirroring. And when Howan Fai produced his wallet to pay, the man seemed to decide he couldn’t afford the jewelry and wandered out of the store. If the trend continued, the man would find a nice outdoor spot and pass the tail on to a less familiar face.

The shopkeeper wrapped the purchase carefully in a dozen layers of fine cloth, and Howan Fai tucked the package into an interior pocket secure from the quick fingers of the city’s clever street criminals. Then he leaned in to exchange a few words with the shopkeeper.

“Master Jeweler. Did you see the large man behind me by the gold bracelets? He was
not
a regular customer, I don’t think?”

The owner shook his head with wry disgust. “Haven’t seen him before, Your Lordship. Not someone I knew, but begging Your Lordship’s pardon, there’ve been customers come for this Conclave with the look of desert bandits who turned out to be foreign princes. That one had the look of a thief, so I kept an eye out. My goods are all still here.”

Howan Fai nodded and didn’t correct his title. Tajvana was teaming with foreign nobles these days, and most in the gemsellers’ district had taken to greeting everyone as a lord, just to be safe. Some of his own ancestors had become sea nomads to avoid the land wars which had raged between some of the other Conclave attendees’ ancestors—and many of those attendees did look like desert bandits even in Eniathian eyes, far less from the perspective of cosmopolitan Tajvana.

Thievery wasn’t an explanation Howan Fai had considered likely, but it made sense from the shopkeeper’s perspective, so he adjusted his story slightly.

“That man seems to have been following me, and I’d like to keep the fine jewelry I just bought. There was another one—his partner, perhaps—across the street.…

The shopkeeper lifted the side of his coat to reveal the revolver that looked like the shorter-barreled, lighter civilian version of the Ternathian H&W. It had a well-worn grip, and there were two speedloader pouches on his belt. Howan Fai had expected the owner of a shop with so much valuable merchandise to have guards on staff, and he’d wondered why he hadn’t seen any; now he knew why.

“They won’t rob Your Lordship in my store. But I could send for an escort if you’d like?”

Howan Fai caught a blatantly skeptical glance from his own guardsman, Munn Lii, which made Lii’s opinion about the value of city police for dealing with the brutes the Empire of Uromathia usually hired as intimidators quite clear. A few extra bodies would make it easier for the two of them to escape a bruising if that was all they faced, but unsuspecting men on the police force could easily be maimed or killed in a serious attack by the kind of criminals Uromathia could buy.

Howan Fai shared his guardsman’s views in that regard and demurred as politely as he could.

“I’ll stay out of dark alleys and my own guard should be sufficient. I just worry that the next customer might not be so wary. Do you think you could provide the city watch with the man’s description? If you come to the front I can point out the watcher too.”

The shopkeeper readily agreed, and Howan Fai hoped it would at least make this particular criminal’s life more difficult if he continued to sell his services to the likes of Chava Busar. Of course when they came to the front of the store both the possible thief and the shivering cafe man were gone.

The shopkeeper claimed the police must have already run them off, but he added after an uncomfortable pause, “At least I hope they did.”

He seemed less than certain of that, unfortunately, and Howan Fai found himself regretting that he’d raised the specter of thieves operating with impunity in such a prosperous area of the city. Tajvana might not be the glorious city it had once been under the Old Ternathian Empire, but he began to wonder just how thoroughly the Order of Bergahl had undermined respect for justice in the city if even gemsellers weren’t certain criminals would be stopped by the police.

He didn’t think his shadows were regular criminals, but now he wondered if the shopkeeper hadn’t also noted the excellent musculature and guessed at some more professional organization than the loose bonds avarice would form among common criminals. A check at the doorframe showed the Bergahl emblem was affixed with gold wire next to the certificate of business sealed by the Seneschal.

The establishment certainly seemed paid up with whatever tithes or taxes the Order demanded. Howan Fai’s own variant of the Uromathian faith placed the onus for piety on the individual, but some church fathers charged civilian leaders to mandate externally imposed religious observances instead. The quarterly stamps around the Bergahl emblem hinted strongly at a fiscal piety extracted from the well-to-do of Tajvana with the force of law.

“We all pay our dues to the Seneschal, Your Lordship.” The shopkeeper acknowledged Howan Fai’s careful inspection of the posted certificates. “It’ll be better for all of us when this Conclave is over,” the man said. “We dearly love the city’s visitors, of course, but the Seneschal is Tajvana.”

Munn Lii stepped quickly out the front door to check the street more thoroughly. Howan Fai stayed inside, waiting for his guard’s all clear and intrigued by the shopkeeper’s comments.

“Visitors? I suspect many of us will be staying for quite some time. After the Conclave, we’ll have to set up residences for officials coordinating with the unified empire. I’ll likely be going home soon, but it’ll be good for Tajvana to grow don’t you think?”

“As Your Lordship says, that’d be well enough, of course. But the Caliraths, won’t they want to get back to Hawkwing in the Ternathian Isles again? They left once, you know.”

Through the shop’s broad windows Munn Lii gave him the sign to wait and Howan Fai examined the shopkeeper’s face. The man didn’t seem to believe his own words, quite, but the way he leaned in and pressed his lips together did seem to imply he hoped Howan Fai would confirm them.

“I believe Tajvana should prepare itself to be the imperial seat for the Winged Crown once again,” he said finally.

“Oh.” The man deflated. “And Your Lordship is quite sure?”

“Yes.” He read fear in the shopkeeper’s eyes, so he added, “The Caliraths will be good for Tajvana. You’ve seen the carpenters and masons repairing the Grand Palace.” He seized on a point he expected a local merchant to appreciate. “There’ll be more fine work ordered after the worst of the damages are seen to. The gilding over the common entry way to the audience hall is missing for instance.”

“They’d gild the commoner’s entrance?” The man dry swallowed. “Would Your Lordship have heard when the tax for that is scheduled to begin?” When he didn’t have an immediate answer, the man continued, “I’ll need to sell my gold work before the confiscation. Perhaps Your Lordship has a few friends who’d like to come buy at a discount?”

“The Caliraths aren’t thieves,” Munn Lii put in as he re-entered the shop. “And our thieves are long gone, Highness.”

The shopkeeper flustered through an apology that left Howan Fai wondering what sort of policing Tajvana was accustomed to under the Order of Bergahl. He didn’t have to wonder about the tax burden the Order had imposed, though, and he supposed it was inevitable that the shopkeeper would be anticipating the worst. It would be too much to expect him to realize how utterly different from Faroayn Raynarg, the current Seneschal, a man like Zindel chan Calirath truly was. Besides, Zindel wouldn’t need to inflate his treasury just to repair the palace. The Imperial Suite had suffered an explosion of gilded surfaces under the Order of Bergahl stewardship. A few chairs from that chamber would provide more than enough gold leaf to set the entire main entranceway to rights; if the bathroom fixtures were replaced with mere solid silver, the Caliraths could build an entire new façade for the north wing! He seriously considered pointing that out, but the proprietor clearly had too many negative experiences to believe him.

Howan Fai gave up calming the man and left the store.