Thirty-Six

Jarid slipped into the cool room and retrieved a bottle, then climbed the stairs, humming to himself. Using the stock of new weapons that Ky Menin had supplied, they’d beaten back the troublesome Kallathik easily. On top of that, they’d managed to take the youngest Men Darnak. It was much better than he could have expected. Strangely though, he felt little for their victory. It had been easy — far too easy.

He fished around in a drawer, found an opener, then leaned back on one of the counters, lifting the bottle to his lips and took a healthy swallow. At least his father had always made sure that they were well supplied during Storm Season. He took another mouthful, and quickly caught himself as a dribble ran down his cheek and over his chin. Using the back of his arm, he wiped his chin dry. He took the next swallow with a touch more caution. Because his father laid so much importance on the preparations, he wouldn’t have to do anything else for the estates for months. It left time to concentrate on the important things.

The Prophet only knew where Markis might be. It didn’t matter though. Markis had ceased to register as a threat for some time. Jarid was so close he could almost taste it now. Tilting the bottle up, he took another healthy swallow. All right, he had convinced Ky Menin that he was an obedient player in the Guildmaster’s game, but that wasn’t quite enough. He glanced around. All this was effectively his now. It was a start, but he wanted more. The only trouble was, if he was to play Ky Menin’s game, he’d have to wait, and waiting was the hardest thing of all. How many years had he already spent? How many seasons waiting in his brother’s shadow, biding his time? Well the time for waiting was nearly over.

On the other hand, there was Karin. Now that they’d taken the Men Darnak brat, Karin was the only one of the lineage who amounted to anything worth considering, and she was certainly worth the consideration. He rubbed his neck, thinking about her face, her body, the way her fingers lingered on his arm when she touched him, the deep looks that she gave him. There was little wonder she showed interest when she had to put up with what she had. How could a disgusting lump like Yosset Clier keep such a woman satisfied? She had to have had interests elsewhere. Ky Menin? No. Ky Menin didn’t seem to be the type. The only thing he was in love with was his blessed power and his influence on the Principate.

He pushed himself from the counter and wandered into the living room swinging the bottle from his fingers as he walked. He’d have to make some changes here. The whole decoration was old and stuffy. Formal presence — that was what his father had always been about. Well, not any more. But that would keep for later. It was a pity he’d not managed to catch up with the old man.

Taking another sip, he lowered the bottle and swung it back and forth, suspended merely by one finger of his right hand. Hmm, Karin Men Darnak. The problem was, that until everything had settled, until the lines of power and control had been re-established, he needed to rely on Yosset Clier for support. There was no way he could do that if he was caught interfering with his wife. Things might be changing, but there were still clear boundaries. It didn’t remove the possibility; it just meant that he’d have to be more careful. He wasn’t worried about her in that equation. Jarid was absolutely sure that she knew what she was doing.

He lifted the bottle for one last sip, and then held it in his lap, running one hand up against the cold, damp surface. He’d just have to be careful. That was all. And Jarid Ka Vail was always careful, wasn’t he?

As for the Men Darnak boy, Yosset had said that he would be released once everything had settled down. There was no way in the world that Jarid was going to let that happen, no matter what Karin’s odious little husband thought. The boy would always remain a threat, and the best way to deal with threats was to remove them completely. There was no word yet what had happened to the old Principal. And there was another problem. Who would really become Principal now?

Perhaps... no, the thought was unimaginable.

It might just pay to foster the relationship with Karin. If things worked out the way he wanted, if Yosset Clier was suddenly out of the way, there were possibilities. He half smiled to himself as he planted the bottle on the table and leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his neck. In a little while, he would go and question Tarlain Men Darnak, but not for a little while. There was plenty of time yet. Plenty of time to enjoy the victory and to shape the ones to come. Plenty of time to let the Men Darnak brat sweat, waiting for the inevitable. His position would do nothing to help him now. Nothing at all could help him now.

#

The darkness had drawn in by the time they arrived. Jarid was sitting, contemplating, not even having bothered to light lamps to chase away the gloom. He was still fumbling with a light when the man led Clier, Karin and Guildmaster Ky Menin into the room. At last, the light flooded through the room, revealing him standing there, watching them as they descended the stair.

“So, Jarid,” said Clier. “It was a good victory. I think we have them under control for the moment. They will have withdrawn to assess, count their losses. It shouldn’t take us much with the Guildmaster’s new weapons to clean up the rest. What do you think?”

Jarid waved them in, looking smugly pleased with himself. The lingering look with which he graced Karin did not escape Clier’s attention. All well and good. Let him have his little fantasies. There was a game to be played out here. Yosset looked around the room, checking for anything that might be of concern, noted the broad panoramic windows that he’d stared out of so often when meeting with Aron Ka Vail, gave a merest glance at the darkened landscapes outside, barely visible with the light within the living space, then returned his attention to the boy. Everything should be in place by now. He remembered those windows very well.

“We have agreed,” said Clier, “that we are now in a position to be able to find out what we need to know about the opposition’s movements. Guildmaster Ky Menin assures me that he has the means to do just that. If you would have your men release Tarlain Men Darnak to us, we can get on with it. Where are you holding him?”

Jarid crossed to the couch and flopped down on it, put his feet up and gave an insolent smirk. “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” he said.

“What?” said Yosset, barely able to believe the boy’s brashness.

“I have other plans for the Men Darnak boy.”

Yosset stepped forward. “I don’t think you understand your position, Jarid.”

“Oh, I understand it well enough,” Jarid countered, shooting a quick grin in Karin’s direction. Yosset glanced at Karin’s face, but she was betraying nothing. Meanwhile, Ky Menin stood in the background, simply watching.

Yosset nodded. He walked across the room to stare out the window into the darkness. He would play this to its conclusion, whether they thought they could manipulate him by bringing him here or not.

“Whether you like it or not, Jarid Ka Vail, you are a subordinate within the Guild of Primary Production. I hold the rank here. As long as your father or your brother still live, and we have no evidence to say otherwise, then you remain just that, a lesser functionary. I suggest you start to do what I say.”

Jarid rose slowly and turned to face him. “And who are you?” he said, the sneer evident in his words. “Who are you, Yosset Clier? You don’t even come from a named family. The only reason you have position is because of your links with the Men Darnak family, because of Karin.”

“Jarid, no,” she said from across the room.

“No,” he said, swinging around to face her. “I will talk. This fool is like all the rest. It’s not those most capable who get the positions within the Guilds, is it? It’s all families and associations and positions of birth. Well damn it, no! Listen to what you’re saying. You should know better than anyone. We can put up with his self-important speeches for as long as we want, but it doesn’t change anything. We all know what’s happening here.”

“And what is that?” said Yosset quietly, still not turning around.

Ky Menin suddenly loomed from the shadows to one side of the room. “Actually, Yosset, what Jarid is saying is right. We’ve been long overdue for a real change, and this is our opportunity. Let us seize this chance to drive our positions forward. If you can’t deal with that, then I don’t believe you deserve a place in what’s to come.”

Clier stared out the window, holding back his reply.

“In fact,” continued Ky Menin. “I have decided that it makes more sense for Jarid to work together with me in the Guild of Technologists.”

“Such a clear night,” said Clier. He slid open one of the large windows, then moved to open another one.

“What are you doing, Yosset? Have you lost your senses?”

“Nights like this, after a good storm, everything is so clear.” He turned to face them, a slight breeze from the window plucking at his clothes. “Don’t you think?”

There was a frown on both Karin and Ky Menin’s faces.

“What are you talking about, Clier,” said the Guildmaster.

Yosset laughed. “You see, I don’t believe Jarid can work with you at all, Ky Menin. I believe he has already promised his services to someone else.”

Ky Menin tilted his head, an expression of puzzlement on his face. “What?”

Taking his time about it, Yosset reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Carefully, unhurriedly, he opened it, read what was there and then looked up at Karin. For a moment or two, she looked puzzled, and then her eyes widened and she blanched.

“Where did you get that?” she said.

“Oh, I too have my means, my dear wife. You see, Karryl, written here, in Karin’s own fair hand is her plan to have me dealt with, and then to form an alliance with young Jarid here, whatever form that alliance may take.”

“Is that true?” said Ky Menin, taking a step forward, a thoughtful expression on his face. Yosset was surprised at how calm the Guildmaster seemed.

All the smugness had dropped from Jarid’s face. “There’s nothing you can do about it, Clier. Nothing.” He took a step forward.

“Oh, but you’re wrong, Jarid,” Yosset replied. “As much as I have been devoted to my wife, as much as I have loved her and tried to please her in every way I could, it appears that was not enough. I had hoped that perhaps one day she would return those feelings, but I can see now that it was never going to happen. This time she’s gone too far.” Suddenly his voice adopted a hard edge. “This time you’ve both gone too far.”

Jarid laughed. “It’s too late for you, Clier,” he said. “What are you going to do?” Taking another step, he pulled something from his pocket.

Clier recognized it immediately as one of the small hand weapons. He knew just what it could do.

“Jarid, no!” said Karin.

Swallowing back his doubt — he was committed now, committed to act for one of the first times in his long existence within the Guild hierarchy — Yosset took a step back toward the open window. “Markis!” he called.

Out of the darkness behind him, a figure appeared. In one hand, he carried one of the Kallathik spears.

“Markis?” said Jarid. He frowned trying to make out the figure standing in the gloom.

“Don’t you know me, Jarid?” said Markis. “You should know me now.”

The weapon in Jarid’s hand wavered.

“No, but you can’t. Not now,” he said between gritted teeth.

Slowly he swung to face his brother. “Didn’t you learn the lesson before?” He took a step toward the window. “You always got in my way, Markis. You were always there to stop what I wanted. Not now! Not this time!”

He fired then, but the shot sailed out into the darkness. Karin flinched at the noise. Yosset swung to make sure that Markis Ka Vail was unscathed, and was just in time to see the older brother raise his arm and launch the spear. His teeth were bared. The shiny double-ended spear sailed unerringly, catching Jarid Ka Vail firmly in the chest. Jarid stumbled backward, dropping the weapon he carried, groping ineffectually at the hard wooden shaft protruding from his chest.

“No!” cried Karin.

“That’s for Father, for the Guild, for everything,” said Markis. He stepped into the room, fixed Karryl Ky Menin and Karin with a hard glare, and then stooped to retrieve the weapon that his brother had dropped.

Ky Menin looked about himself nervously.

“Markis, no,” said Yosset. “We have better ways of dealing with them.”

“You pathetic fool,” said Ky Menin, taking a step closer to Karin. “Do you think with the resources at my disposal I would really let you do that?”

He suddenly whipped something out of his pocket, and throwing one arm around Karin, pressed it to her neck. Karin had told him about this device; Yosset knew exactly what it was. He stepped forward, holding up one hand. “Don’t hurt her, Karryl,” he said. “Don’t hurt her.” Despite everything, despite everything that had happened, he could not see her hurt.

Markis stood where he was, his brother lying dead at his feet, the weapon held in his hand, wavering.

“Don’t, Markis,” said Yosset. “Please.”

“But — ”

“Listen to him, Markis,” said Ky Menin, gradually maneuvering himself toward the open windows. Markis slowly lowered his arm, all the rage apparently gone.

Ky Menin smiled, ducking his head slightly as he moved closer to the windows. “I think it’s time for us to go,” he said. “And once we’ve all calmed down, we will work out what we’re going to do.” He made one more smirking statement. “Think on it Yosset. Think about the Guilds.” And with that, he backed out into the darkness, taking Karin with him.

Markis turned to look at Yosset with a pleading expression on his face, but he could do nothing more than stand there and slowly shake his head. Perhaps Ky Menin was right. Perhaps there was too much at stake here. They would need Technology in the months ahead.

Suddenly, in the darkness there was a cry, a cry of pain and horror. Both of them turned to the window in shock, just in time to see a huge shape rearing up right outside the windows. A Kallathik! And there were more of them beyond.

Yosset backed away from the opening, away from the huge scaled creature with its twin sets of spears, fixing him with its double-eyed gaze. He stumbled and nearly fell, throwing out a hand to catch himself on the edge of the couch. Markis just stood there, looking back at the creature impassively. Relaxing his fingers, he let the weapon drop to the floor.

“Markis!” said Yosset.

The Kallathik swiveled its head, seemed to take in the picture in the room, the two solitary figures standing there, the body on the floor, the spear protruding from its chest, and then it stopped.

For several moments, nothing stirred, nothing moved. Yosset barely dared breathe.

And just as suddenly, the creature was gone, back into the darkness.

Huge shapes flitted past the windows at impossible speeds, and Markis watched, and then he turned, stepped over his brother, moved to a chair, and sat.

Yosset, still shaken, glanced nervously out into the darkness then back at the older Ka Vail boy. “Markis, what is it? What should we do?”

“I suggest you sit down and wait until it’s over,” he said, staring down at the body in front of him. “There’s nothing else we really can do now except wait.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven