“Organise a search!” cried Casuel. “There’s only one road out of here, so anything going overland can be stopped. Isn’t there some chain to close the harbour to pirates? Get that in place and turn every ship inside out!”
“On whose say-so?” I enquired mildly. “Planir’s? Archmage he may be, he has no authority here, not over Tormalin citizens when nothing’s been proved against them.”
“Is Messire D’Olbriot’s word not good enough, even by proxy?” Temar asked hesitantly.
“No, not for a general search.” I tried to recall the little I knew of Old Empire law. “A Prince’s power is still absolute over his own tenants and property, but that’s as far as it goes. Houses on good terms with D’Olbriot would cooperate, but those that aren’t would refuse, whether or not they had anything to hide. Self-governing traders and artisans will hardly compromise their independence by yielding to D’Olbriot influence like that. Forcing the issue will set them appealing in every court up to the Emperor himself.”
Temar was looking puzzled. “Are many people living outside the security of tenantry?”
“A great deal changed as a result of the Chaos,” said Casuel officiously. “The autonomy of sufficient men of business is an important check on the influence of Princes.”
“Casuel’s father is a pepper merchant,” I explained. “Anyway, even where someone’s officially beholden to a Name, the ties may be no stronger than ribbon sealed on a parchment.”
“But who safeguards their interests?” Temar looked genuinely concerned.
“The Emperor and the justiciary, naturally.”
I interrupted as Casuel drew breath to explain twenty generations of precedent and custom. “The best way to be sure we’ve no Elietimm creeping in the shadows is to find those stolen goods. I’ll call in the few markers I have hereabouts and see if the strength of the D’Olbriot name can get the most likely places searched at least. Temar, go back and have your breakfast, then see if Avila can find any sniff of aetheric magic. Casuel.” I gave him a warm smile. “Go and ask Velindre if she has any contacts among the free-traders.” I raised my voice over his incensed protests. “I don’t suppose she was involved in anything, but free-traders are most likely to be offered unusual goods at half their market value. We might get a scent that way. If she refuses to help, that might be worth telling Planir.”
Casuel’s indignation subsided as Temar managed to control a smile I could see tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Feathers!” the mage said suddenly.
“Of course!” I snapped my fingers. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“I don’t suppose your lady has much time for the heights of fashion,” Casuel smirked.
I let the jibe go as I saw Temar looking at me and the mage as if we’d both taken leave of our senses.
“Feathers, bright ones in bold colours are worth, oh, I don’t know how many times their weight in gold,” I explained.
“No lady would dream of going out without a fan of plumes carefully chosen to match her dress or in the colours of her House,” Casuel broke in. “And then there are the combinations that signify—”
“If someone thought you’d brought back exotic feathers unique to Kellarin, that would definitely be worth a break-in.” Much as I hated to give Casuel any credit, his suggestion made simple theft a far more likely explanation.
“I must tell Guinalle to send hunters out with some nets,” said Temar with well-bred amusement. “Strange that none of the mercenaries or mages mentioned this.”
“Well, mercenaries just sweat and I don’t suppose wizards have much time for the heights of fashion either.” I nodded with mock politeness to Casuel, but baiting the mage wasn’t going to get us anywhere. “I’ll see you back at the shrine at noon and we’ll share anything we’ve found out. If there’s any hint it’s something more sinister than thievery, then we get on the road to Toremal where we’ve got the Name and the men to back us.”
“But what if we’re attacked on the road?” Casuel bleated.
“Then you show us some magic, Master Wizard,” smiled Temar.
CHAPTER TWO
Appendix to the D’Olbriot Chronicle,
Winter Solstice Concluding the First Year of
Tadriol the Thrifty, As Written by Esquire Fidaer,
Castellan of the Tailebret Estates
Solstice celebrations have seen some relaxation of the austerity enjoined on us in the immediate aftermath of the new Emperor’s election, much to the relief of tradespeople the length and breadth of Toremal. But all the gowns and furbelows adorning our ladies must be paid for with solid coin this year, now merchants have Imperial sanction to refuse open-ended credit to even the noblest of Houses. Well, Tadriol’s strictures may be unpopular with giddy girls obsessed with fashionable competition and Esquires keen to cut an elegant figure, but I write this after submitting my annual accounts to the Sieur of my Name with the best set of balances for some years. With Messire’s approval, I plan to use these funds firstly to support the tenantry who suffered in the recent floods around Nymet, and thereafter to expand whichever of our enterprises will benefit from sustained investment.
On the Sieur’s insistence, all branches of the D’Olbriot House heeded the retrenchments urged by Tor Tadriol earlier than most. Thus, the increased coin taxes levied on our strong rooms have not hit us too hard. It is also consolation to see Tor Tadriol’s thrift does not fatten his own coffers under the threadbare guise of Imperial necessity. This winter has seen a wide extension of Imperial munificence to the commonalty, even without unduly harsh weather, and Tadriol used the occasion of Convocation to announce that the Emperor’s Dole at Summer Solstice will be a substantial gift for the truly indigent rather than token silver for notables of shrine fraternities and craft guilds.
Speaking purely for myself I am relieved to report no return to the costly, stifling ceremonial so beloved of the Name so lately gracing the throne. The Convocation of Princes was a brisk affair, the Adjurist’s rod duly broken after the briefest of addresses by the Emperor thanking the Sieur Tor Sylarre for his many years of loyal service to Tor Bezaemar. The Sieur Den Thasnet echoed these sentiments in florid terms but was soon caught by the Imperial gaze and wound up his eloquence. Tadriol may not have that knack of making friends that so characterizes the Esquires of Tor Bezaemar, but the man has undeniable presence in debate.
My Sieur D’Olbriot proposed Messire Tor Kanselin for the now vacant office, and once Den Murivance and Den Gennael had backed him with patent enthusiasm the other Houses voted accordingly, led by Den Janaquel. Tor Priminale held aloof, but that is hardly remarkable, given the extensive bonds tying that Name to Tor Bezaemar. The Sieurs Tor Sauzet and Den Ferrand then acknowledged new Designates before Convocation. Each is a younger son, but both can claim established friendship with the newly elevated Tadriol, and, of course, our new Empress was born Tor Sauzet.
Marital propsects for the ladies now entitled to style themselves Tor Tadriol have been understandably enhanced by their Name’s accession. Within the privacy of these pages, I wonder if his superfluity of daughters influenced Messire and the Sieur Den Munvance when Den Tadriol proposed this particular scion as candidate for the Imperial throne. Alliance by marriage has to be the speediest way for a new dynasty to secure its position among the preeminent Houses, after all. As I write this, my wife sits across the library, studying cadet lines of Tor Tadriol in hopes of finding some younger son or daughter who might be amenable to a match with us, while the lesser lines of that House still remember we were both of equal standing so recently. I hope I have some success to record in these pages next year.