‘Do not underestimate this man,’ said Eldicar.
‘I do not understand that. I just plucked him like a chicken – and he offered no resistance.’
‘The game is not over yet. You have just seen a man who can mask his anger brilliantly. His only slip was to show his contempt by raising the amount of the extortion. This Grey Man is formidable, and I am not yet ready to have him as an enemy. So when this game moves on you will take no action.’
‘Moves on?’
Eldicar Manushan gave a small smile. ‘Soon you will come to me with news and we will speak of it again.’ Eldicar pushed himself to his feet. ‘But for now I wish to explore this palace. I like it. It will suit me well.’ Rising from his chair he reached out, took the hand of his page, and walked from the room.
There were those who believed fat Vanis the merchant was incapable of regret. Always jovial, he would talk often of the stupidity of those who insisted on reliving past mistakes; of worrying over them and examining them from every angle. ‘You cannot change the past,’ he would say. ‘Learn from your mistakes and move on.’
And yet Vanis was forced to admit to himself a tiny feeling of regret – even sadness – at the death of his two stupid nephews. This was, of course, assuaged by the news from Aric that all debts had been cancelled and that an extra fortune in gold would soon be in the hands of his sister, Parla. The money would be passed immediately to Vanis for investment, since Parla was even less intelligent than her departed children.
Thoughts of the gold, and what he would do with it, filled his mind, submerging the hint of sadness beneath a cascade of anticipated pleasures. Perhaps now he would be able to interest the courtesan Lalitia. For some reason she had rebuffed all his advances.
Vanis heaved his considerable bulk from the couch and wandered to the window, gazing down at the guards patrolling the walled perimeter of his house. Pushing open the window he stepped out on to the balcony. The stars were bright in a clear sky, and a three-quarter moon hung just above the tree tops. It was a fine night, warm yet not cloying. Two guard dogs loped across the paved entrance path, disappearing into the undergrowth. Ferocious creatures, they made him shiver, and he hoped all the downstairs doors were locked. He had no wish to find one of the beasts padding along his corridors during the night.
The iron gates to his home were chained shut and Vanis relaxed a little.
Despite his own philosophy he found himself thinking back over the mistakes of the past months. He had taken the Grey Man lightly, believing he would not dare to push the matter of the debts. After all, Vanis was highly connected within House Kilraith, and the Grey Man – being a foreigner – needed all the friends he could find in order to operate his business interests in Carlis. The miscalculation had proved costly. Vanis should have guessed that matters would not be so easily resolved when the debts had been lodged with the Merchants Guild, the promises of repayment written down and witnessed.
He moved back inside and poured himself a cup of Lentrian Fire, an amber spirit he had found to be more potent than the finest wines.
It was not his fault that the boys were dead. Had the Grey Man not threatened to ruin him none of this would have happened. His was the blame.
Vanis had another drink and walked across to the western window. From here he could see the distant palace of the Grey Man across the bay, shining white in the moonlight. Once more he moved out on to the balcony, checking on the guards. A blond crossbowman was sitting on the lower branches of an oak, his eyes trained on the garden wall. Below him two more guards were patrolling, and Vanis saw one of the black hunting dogs padding across the open ground. The merchant moved back inside and sank into a deep leather seat alongside the flask of Lentrian Fire.