Waylander 3 – Hero in the Shadows By David Gemmell

‘Well,’ said Waylander easily, ‘the inquiry will establish the facts then make a judgement. I will abide by that.’

‘Would that it were so easy,’ said Aric. ‘The Duke is not a forgiving man. Had both boys been killed in the ballroom I think even he would have been forced to accept the outcome. But I fear that the relatives of Parellis will seek to have you arrested.’

Waylander gave a thin smile. ‘Unless?’

‘Ah, well, this is where I can help, my dear friend. As one of the leading nobles in House Kilraith, and the chief magistrate of Carlis, I can mediate between the factions. I would suggest some reparation to the bereaved family – merely as a gesture of regret over the incident. Say . . . twenty thousand gold crowns to the mother of the boys, and the cancelling of the debts owed by their uncle, the grieving Vanis. In this way the matter will be solved before the arrival of the Duke.’

‘It touches me that you would go to such lengths on my behalf,’ said Waylander. ‘I am most grateful.’

‘Oh, think nothing of it! It is what friends are for.’

‘Indeed. Well, let us make it thirty thousand gold crowns for the mother. I understand she has two other younger sons and that the family is not as wealthy as once they were.’

‘And Vanis?’

‘By all means let the debt be cancelled,’ said Waylander. ‘It was a piffling sum.’ He rose and gave a bow to Aric. ‘And now, my friend, you must excuse me. Much as I enjoy your company I have other pressing matters of my own to attend.’

‘Of course, of course,’ said Aric, rising from his seat and offering his hand. Waylander shook it, nodded to the magicker, then left the room.

As the door closed Aric’s smile vanished. ‘Well, that was simply done,’ he said coldly.

‘You would have preferred it to be difficult?’ asked Eldicar Manushan softly.

‘I would have preferred to see him squirm a little. There is nothing quite so stomach-churning as a peasant with wealth. It offends me that I am forced to deal with him. In the old days he would have been dispossessed by his betters, his wealth used by those who understood the nature of power and its uses.’

‘I can see how much it must grieve you,’ said the magicker, ‘to come to this man and beg for scraps from his table.’

All colour drained from Aric’s thin face. ‘How dare you?’

Eldicar laughed. ‘Come, come, my friend, what else can it be called? Each year for the past five years this rich peasant has paid your gambling debts, the mortgage on your two estates, settled your tailor’s accounts and enabled you to live in the style and manner of a noble. Did he do this of his own volition? Did he come running to your house and say, “My dear Aric, I have heard how fortune has fled you, so please allow me to pay all your debts?” No, he did not. You came to him.’

‘I leased him land!’ stormed Aric. ‘It was a business arrangement.’

‘Aye, business. And all the monies you have received since then? Including the five thousand crowns you requested last night?’

‘This is intolerable! Beware, Eldicar, my patience is not limitless.’

‘Neither is mine,’ said Eldicar, his voice suddenly sibilant. ‘Shall I ask for the return of the gift I gave you?’

Aric blinked. His mouth opened. He sat down heavily. ‘Oh, come now, Eldicar, there is no need for us to argue. I intended no disrespect.’

The magicker leant forward. ‘Then remember this, Aric. You are mine. Mine to use, mine to reward, and mine to dispose of if I see fit. Tell me that you understand this.’

‘I do. I do understand. I am sorry.’

‘That is good. Now, tell me what you observed during our meeting with the Grey Man.’

‘Observed? What was there to observe? He came in, agreed to all my demands and left.’

‘He did not just agree,’ said Eldicar. ‘He raised the sum.’

‘I know that. The size of his fortune is a matter of legend. Money means little to him, obviously.’