Nineteen

Deep in Aron Ka Vail’s estates, the old man paced the room. His heart was heavy. How could he have been so wrong about his sons? He paused before the panoramic front window staring out over his lands, but not really seeing them. Outside it was dark, the occasional actinic flash lighting the landscape. His reflection, lit strangely by yellow lantern light, stared back at him. A deep distant rumble sent a tremor through the glass, and the image danced then stilled. He tilted his head a little to one side, trying to imagine how he had looked as a younger man, but there were only traces left. He was tired — so tired. Running the Guild of Primary Production, living, breathing it every single day, Season in and Season out. It had taken its toll. He turned away from the shadowed figure and sat heavily, staring off into the distance. Ambition was one thing, but for his own son to turn against him...

A reflected movement in the glass in front of him caught his attention. Jarid arrived at the bottom of the stairs and Aron turned to wave him over, giving him a weak, half-hearted smile. Jarid ignored the gesture and stayed where he was.

“They’ll be here any moment,” Jarid said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready,” Aron said with a sigh. Despite everything, the business of the Guilds would go on. “As ready as I need to be.”

Jarid entered the room before speaking again. “Let me talk. They’re bound to have questions.”

“No, no. I can handle it. I’ll be fine,” said Aron. He glanced back up at his own reflection, looking for certainty, but saw none. He pursed his lips and looked away. Old fool, he thought, you have brought this on yourself.

One of the household staff appeared announcing the party’s arrival, but there was a surprise. Karryl Ky Menin was not alone. Roge Men Darnak was with him. Of course, the Men Darnak boy — no, Aron corrected himself, Principal Men Darnak — was attached to the Guild of Technologists, and so had every right to be here. Aron signaled to have them shown in, adjusting his position so that he was sitting a little straighter in his chair. It would do no good to have them see him looking slumped and defeated. Moments later, the two were ushered down the stairway. Jarid crossed to meet them and led them to the room’s center.

“Please, sit,” said Aron. “Jarid, you over there.”

Roge Men Darnak wore his uniform. He sat stiffly at the edge of one chair, looking slightly uncomfortable. Karryl Ky Menin took the other seat, relaxing easily into its bulk and stared across at Aron, a question on his face. When Aron refused to be led, Ky Menin spoke.

“So, Aron, tell me. Is it true about Markis?”

Aron hesitated before answering. “Yes,” he said reluctantly. “I fear it is.”

Ky Menin shook his head. “Who would have thought?” He folded his thin hands in front of him, fixing Aron with a pale stare. “That a son could show such disrespect to his father...”

“I really don’t wish to discuss the details of it, if you’ll understand,” said Aron. “Karryl, I may need your help in finding him before he does any more damage. Your people have ways of communicating, ways of tracking things. We don’t have the resources in Primary Production. But it is in all our interests that Markis is found.”

Ky Menin nodded.

Roge, who had continued to sit stiffly, occasionally tugging at the ends of his sleeves, suddenly leaned forward.

“I can guess why he did it,” he said.

Ky Menin gave him a glance clearly meant to still the outburst, but Roge either failed to notice it, or was simply oblivious to it; Aron could not hazard which.

Roge continued, clearly caught up in what he was saying. “He’s been out at the mines, hasn’t he? Out at the mines where my father’s people have been. They’re continuing to make trouble. Ever since he stepped down, he’s been unable to leave things alone in the Principate, interfering here, stirring things up there. It would not be beyond him to set his people to rallying some sort of ridiculous support. I bet Markis has been talking to my father’s people, letting them influence him. Why, only this afternoon I received a messenger from Karin saying that they’d been over at her estates making trouble. He can’t leave well enough alone. It’s just not right.”

Aron glanced at Ky Menin who gave a brief frown. “Roge…I should say… Principal,” he said. “I’m sure that there are other reasons for Markis’s behavior.”

“But still, I’m just saying...”

“Yes,” said Aron. “We understand. You obviously have your own concerns. We understand, Principal. It still doesn’t stop us working to solve the question of Markis himself.” He thought briefly, quickly, but his options were few. He shook his head and sighed. Now it was out, he had little choice. “I could barely believe it, Karryl. I still have real difficulty coming to terms with what the boy’s done. After all I’ve done for him, he turns around and betrays me. Not like Jarid here. Jarid has tried to defend me, to support me, and for what? Jarid stands to gain nothing special from this. We all know the rights of succession.”

Jarid’s face was devoid of expression. Aron looked over and gave him a half smile. “I do not know what I would have done without you, Jarid.”

Roge leaned forward again. “The Guildmaster is right, Karryl. Such loyalty is something we should value. It’s something we need within the Guilds.”

Ky Menin gave Roge a slightly curious look, held it for a moment, and then turned to address Jarid.

“Principal Men Darnak is right in what he says. Such loyalty is to be commended. Perhaps you would benefit from some time within the Guild of Technologists. We can always use those who know where their true loyalties lie. I’m sure we could find an appropriate place for you.” He inclined his head in Aron’s direction. “Of course, with your father’s support.”

Jarid shook his head slowly. “Thank you, Guildmaster Ky Menin, but my proper place is here, supporting my father. Primary Production needs its own strength, particularly now.”

Ky Menin nodded and sat back, folding his hands once more across his lap. “Speaking of Primary Production, Aron, we have some other matters to discuss. Of course we’ll do everything we can to assist you with the boy, but we have another problem right now. Word has come to me that Clier is planning to build a voting block against me in the Principate. Roge and I have spoken about it, but until I brought it up with him, he had no knowledge of what was going on.”

“Do you think Clier could be linked with Markis?” said Aron. He was far more inclined to trust Ky Menin’s analysis of the situation.

“It’s possible, but I don’t think so,” Ky Menin responded. “The action seems too undisciplined. The Prophet knows, Clier has never been one to act without Karin’s instruction, but that’s what’s strange. If Karin had been planning something, normally she would have at least told Roge, if not simply confided in him. No, there is something that doesn’t feel right here.”

Roge stood and started pacing around the room. Aron tracked him as he walked. Finally, Roge stopped and turned. “It is because of Father that Yosset Clier is where he is. He always said that. Always said that if he needed anything in Primary Production that Clier was his way in. Yosset has to feel some sort of debt to him. I can just imagine...”

“Roge, be calm. Think about what you’re saying.” It was Ky Menin again. This time his frown was getting deeper. Aron himself could barely believe what Roge had said.

Roge started pacing again. “No, no. That’s it. They’re trying to destabilize things. They know that things within the Principate aren’t firm yet.”

Aron echoed Ky Menin’s frown. He wished the boy would stand still. This was simply no way to conduct business.

Ky Menin finally stood. He stepped in front of Roge and held up his hands. “Roge. Principal Men Darnak. Don’t you think Karin would have told you if that was the case? Do you really think Clier would act without Karin’s knowledge?”

Roge stopped, thought for a moment, and then frowned. He tugged at the ends of his sleeves, and then glanced around at all the faces looking at him. Finally, he took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “Of course you’re right.” He nodded and allowed Ky Menin to steer him back to the chair with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“So, what are we to do?” said Ky Menin once he was comfortably seated back in his own place.

“It seems clear to me that we need to counter any threat within the Principate itself,” said Aron. He looked pointedly at Roge, then back at Ky Menin. Karryl nodded slowly.

“Yes, I see what you mean,” he said quietly. “And you’re quite right of course. Primary Production and Technology will have to work very closely together to deal effectively with the situation, without causing too much upset.”

“I agree,” said Aron, avoiding looking at the Men Darnak boy.

Jarid, who until this time had remained quiet, stood and moved from his place in the background. He crossed behind Roge’s chair and placed his hand lightly on its back.

“So, what are we going to do to deal with the problem, Principal Men Darnak?” he said, looking first at Ky Menin, then across at Aron.

Aron had to admit, the boy was good, very good. Perhaps he really had been wrong. Tradition could dictate only so much.

Roge glanced up at Jarid standing over him. “I don’t know yet. I have to think.”

“I agree with Father, though,” said Jarid as he wandered slowly back to his chair. “We will have to work very closely on this.”

Roge nodded. “I should speak to Karin.”

“Yes, of course that’s the answer,” said Jarid from his half-shadowed chair. “And the sooner the better, don’t you think?” He leaned forward so that Aron could see his face, a question clearly there.

Aron considered the question, and hesitated. What they were thinking of was not right. It couldn’t be right. Jarid quickly looked over at Ky Menin. The Guildmaster returned the look and barely nodded his head once.

“Principal?” said Jarid.

Roge, currently lost in thought and still intermittently tugging at the ends of his sleeves, looked up and smoothed the front of his jacket. “Yes?”

“If you want to make the journey tonight, I will go with you. I know it’s late, but you’re right, the sooner we get this resolved, the better for all of us. The way will pass more quickly if you have company. I don’t mind.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Roge standing. “It gives me an excuse to see Karin anyway. In her message, she said that Father might head my way with his — what did she call it? That’s right — with his performing troupe. It’s better if I’m not there at all. He can barely make a case if I’m not there to greet him. I’d rather not see him now, anyway. If you really don’t mind, Jarid…?”

Jarid also stood. “No, I don’t mind at all.” He glanced at Ky Menin, and then looked over at Aron. “I am glad to be of service.”

Aron looked at the calm expression on his son’s face, at the easiness of his stance, and he swallowed. Was he in a position to stop this now? He looked over at Ky Menin, but found no answers there.

“So,” said Roge. “Let us go then. And you’re right, the quicker the better.”

Finally, Aron looked at the eldest Men Darnak child, knowing that there was no other solution if they were going to maintain true order within the Guilds. And in the words of the Prophet, order came from order. He bowed his head feeling the helplessness of the inevitable. As the new Principal left the room with Jarid close on his heels, Aron could not bring himself to look at him. Keeping his head lowered, he lifted his eyes enough to watch the shadowed reflection retreating up the staircase behind him.

“Now that is dealt with,” said Karryl Ky Menin, “let us talk proper business.”

Slowly lifting his head, Aron met the Guildmaster’s eyes. The pale stare met his own without a flicker.

“Yes,” Aron said with a sigh. “I suppose we really should, shouldn’t we.”

#

Jarid walked with Roge out into the darkness, heading for the stables and garages.

“This way?” asked Roge.

“Yes, and I’ve been thinking, Principal. It may be better if we take a groundcar don’t you think?”

Roge stopped, looking troubled. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

Jarid stepped closer and took him by the upper arm. “It’s this way, Principal. You said yourself, the sooner we took care of this, the better, and if we take padders, then we won’t be there until the early hours of the morning. We’re hardly likely to get anything settled then, are we?”

Roge was still frowning, resisting Jarid’s gentle pressure on his arm. “But what about my men?”

“They can follow. We’ll send word.”

“Yes, you’re probably right. Anyway, Karin will know what we should do. We should get there quickly before things get further out of hand.”

Jarid nodded and smiled, leading Roge gently to where the groundcars were parked ready for Storm Season. He had no doubt about the implication of Guildmaster Ky Menin’s words, nor of his father’s complicity. He just had to work out what he was going to do.

He slid the garage doors aside as Roge stood and watched, not even bothering to lend a hand. He stepped inside, pulled a dust sheet from one of the flyers and bunched it into a ball, shoving it to one side on a nearby bench. Glancing around, he saw the tools there, some for vehicle maintenance, others for general work around the estate.

“What are you doing, Jarid?” said Roge from outside.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Principal.” He reached up, snagging a solid screwdriver from one of the racks and dropped it into his pocket.

Slipping into the groundcar, he started it and backed it slowly out of the garage, waiting while Roge opened the door and got in the other side. Jarid slipped the screwdriver out of his pocket and rested it gently down beside the seat.

“I’ll just shut the doors, Principal,” he said, opening his own door and stepping out to do just that. He was back in a moment, his door sliding shut behind him.

“Because of the Season, I’m going to have to use manual control.”

“Yes, of course. Do what you have to,” said Roge.

“Oh, I will, Principal. I will,” said Jarid, glancing at Roge Men Darnak’s impassive face. He headed the groundcar out toward the hills and away.

Chapter Twenty