Vergence (53 page)

Ebryn nodded. Despite Vittore's deliberately casual question he sensed a keen interest in the answer.

“Lord Conant, Master Spetimane, and Master Yale,” Ebryn said, pointing at each in turn.

Orim returned to Vittore's library to find him standing in front of the collection of heads. All five were uncovered.

“Why didn't you show him these two?” Vittore asked.

“Return to Fyrenar, he would, were he to see the five together. The meaning of them he would then understand.”

“So you think you know who the other two heads belong to?”

“This has the aspect of one called Sarl, the other of a woman who is Fidela.”

Vittore pursed his lips. “The first three I understand, these two not so much.”

“They are newer, these ones,” Orim said. “Who it is guides this seeks to kill these two for another purpose.”

“Please enlighten me.”

“A man would, for his friends, return home. Were they taken by another his loyalty to them would bind him to serve.”

“So now Ebryn is here, someone wants him to stay, and possibly remove any form of leverage over him. If the last two heads were added later, it suggests an evolving plan. It may be none of this was intended at the start.”

“I should protect this Fidela and Sarl?” Orim asked.

“No,” Vittore said. “For us, it's a distraction, and I prefer the boy to stay here too. Losing Spetimane was unfortunate. Do you have any idea where to find Yale yet?”

Orim picked up the head resembling Yale and studied it. “In Vergence, Spetimane I would have found, had he not learnt of Ebryn's arrival. Were you to hide, where would it be?

“Here, in Vergence,” Vittore said. “Do you think Yale might be here too?”

Orim shrugged. “This head I will need to search him out.”

Phar Salsa

E
BRYN THOUGHT
the strip of land surrounding the lenders guild building looked meagre by the standards of Conant, but generous for Vergence, extensive enough for a hundred or more of the smaller dwellings found in other parts of the city.

He'd discovered the location of the guild house, built on rising ground about halfway between the Vergence menagerie and the library. A single private road turned out to be the only way to arrive at the imposing structure, without cutting across other properties. A high brick wall, topped with effective looking barbed spikes, enclosed the garden.

The garden, in turn surrounded the guild house, a blunt construction of dark stone and black iron, easily the height of four buildings, like a giant anvil pressing down into the earth, leaning forward over approaching visitors.

Plyntoure had cautioned them to make an appointment before they set off. Phar Salsa would be friendlier, he'd argued, if they were expected, and arrived bearing gifts. Addae ignored the advice, insisting on going to see Phar Salsa at once, perhaps bargaining on his own intimidating size and casters-clasps to gain them entrance.

The guards at the gate were solid, efficient looking men, dressed in armour of heavy leather, covered in overlapping metal plates. Ebryn remembered their sky blue and egg yolk coloured helmet decorations from a contingent in the Tranquillity festival parade, belonging to one of the trade guild, although he couldn't recall which one.

To Ebryn's astonishment they were admitted immediately, almost as if they'd been expected, and a junior soldier was detached from the squad to guide them up the winding path towards the guild building. He thought Addae looked surprised too.

The path, made from thousands of tiny pale yellow stones, crunched under their feet as they asceded. It was easily as wide as many of the smaller streets in the crowded parts of the city, wide enough for a carriage, yet Ebryn couldn't see a single one of the small stones out of place.

They walked between ornamental rockeries, filled with a wide rage of exotic looking plants and flowers, a storm of colours and scents, all contrasting strangely with the bleak structure looming ahead.

Looking down, Ebryn noticed Addae wore his tight fitting sandals, the ones strapped almost to his knee, which Ebryn had only seen him wearing on their journeys through the between, and saw the hint of two heavy knives under the fold of his robes.

The soldier led them to the left, around the side of the building and through a gap in a stone wall. Inside, they found themselves in an kind of garden, with dozens of fountains and water features, each uniquely built from carved stone. They walked through the garden surrounded by the sound of slow running water, and the finely perfumed spray of water jetting from decorative spouts.

Ebryn needed no introduction to identify Phar Salsa. Standing under a wide arch where the water garden met the main building, the man looked enormous, almost as if he'd set himself the task of competing with the building behind him.

Surrounding Phar Salsa were dozens of functionaries and servants, all dressed in uniforms of guild colours. Ebryn had never seen one man served by so many at the same time. How they managed to work without tripping over each other, he had no idea. Yet perhaps, he thought, as he watched one bending to retrieve a small flake of pastry from the floor, this is what you needed to keep such a well tended building and garden.

The large man watched them approach, his small eyes giving nothing away.

Melting butter ran down his double chin. It dripped onto a thick white cloth he'd tucked under his neck and draped over the folds of his belly. Phar Salsa licked each finger clean of sticky crumbs with exaggerated care.

When Ebryn and Addae were close enough, he waved a hand towards a small round table crowded with polished plates, each holding an assortment of small pastries, “Help yourselves. You'll find no finer delicacies on any king's plate, I promise you.”

“I thank you,” Addae said, stepping forward. “This is food I am unable to eat.”

“Such a shame. You don't know what you are missing,” Phar Salsa said. He picked anoher morsel from an offered platter, holding it carefully between the tip of a single finger and his thumb, before dropping it into his mouth.

“I do not wish to trouble you,” Addae said. “I am here to—“

“See my bondsman,” Phar Salsa said.

“ Khet'Tuk. How did you know this?” Addae said.

Phar Salsa chuckled. A thin mirthless sound. “There is a saying, money seeks money. Like seeks like. Who else would a caster come here for, than another of their kind.”

“My name is Addae Bohma, and here is—”

“Yes, yes,” Phar Salsa said, waving a hand at Addae. “I know who you are.”

“You knew we were coming to see you?” Ebryn said.

“A little rodent told me,” Phar Salsa said, holding two stubby fingers pointing downwards, like teeth, in front of his mouth.

“Shiggle's assistant?” Ebryn said to Addae, under his breath.

“Yes, that lender's little assistant. He thought he could profit twice from sending you to me. I gave him the payment he deserved for that information.”

“I am here for Khet'Tuk. I have no interest in this assistant man you speak of,” Addae said.

“Ah yes, Khet'Tuk. I sent for him when I heard of your arrival,” Phar Salsa said, the expression on his fleshy face unreadable. “I'm always eager to help my friends amongst the orders, when a chance arises.”

Khet'Tuk stepped silently into the small group around Phar Salsa. Ebryn had no doubt who he was, the moment he appeared. He'd approached, almost invisible amongst the tall plants, his scaly skin colour a mix of evergreen and deep silvery grey.

Khet'Tuk looked vaguely like a cheg, walking on four of his six limbs, but smaller and slimmer, and lacking any kind of fur. His head was on a level with Ebryn's, his body low slung between high arching double-jointed legs.

Large bright yellow eyes, with vertical slit pupils, moved from Addae to Ebryn, and back again. His face and upper body showed dozens of scars, and around his neck Ebryn could see a collar made of sevyric iron.

“Ah, here Khet'Tuk is,” Phar Salsa said, clapping his hands together like a child showing off a favourite toy. “So tell me — have you come to pay off his bond? Khet'Tuk works hard to pay it off, yet it is still a consequential sum.”

Addae frowned. “What is this bond which must be paid?”

“Ah, not a paltry sum, I'm afraid.”

Addae looked at Ebryn. “What is the meaning of this word?”

“I think it means a debt. Money Khet'Tuk borrowed, and owes to the lenders' guild,” Ebryn said.

Phar Salsa waved the food tray away, and dropped the white cloth from his neck into a pair of waiting hands.

“My carriage will be here soon. I have important guild business to attend, but in the spirit of friendship I will labour to improve your understanding before I leave.”

“What is the debt you—” Addae said, speaking to Khet'Tuk.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Phar Salsa said, raising a hand. “He is my bondsman. As I forbid all my bondsmen from speaking without my permission, you must speak with me.”

Ebryn looked over the small crowd of silent servants again, and realised most of them must be bondsmen too.

Any hint of friendliness had slipped from Addae's face. “As you say.”

“See now,” Phar Salsa said, walking slowly towards the front garden. “Khet'Tuk borrowed a great sum — thirty thousand golden guilders, seeking to buy a great forest near the home of his family. Unfortunately, another managed to acquire the land before him.”

“Why didn't he return the guilders you lent him?” Ebryn asked.

“Oh, he did,” Phar Salsa said.

“If he's returned what you lent him, then why is he here?”

“He returned the initial sum, oh yes. But he had no way of returning the interest. Most unfortunate. Now he is mine, until he's worked off the debt and interest accumulated on the unpaid interest.”

Ebryn glanced at Addae to see if he'd understood Phar Salsa's explanation.

Addae's face gave no clue about what he might be thinking “For how long will Khet'Tuk be a bondsman to you?”

“Oh, most likely years,” Phar Salsa said. “The debt is large, and he has few useful skills to earn back.”

They rounded the corner to the front of the building and found a carriage waiting, a small contraption with four large wheels, barely large enough to accommodate Phar Salsa. The whole thing had been painted in guild colours, a gaudy mess of yellow, blue, and gold leaf. Ebryn's eyes were drawn to the two horses hitched to the front, the only ones he'd seen in a pair for pulling anything since he'd arrived in the city.

In common with everything else they'd seen since passing through the gates of this building, the use of horses seemed intended as a casual reminder of the guilds wealth, and power.

“Now if you've not brought funds to pay his debt, I'm afraid our conversation is at an end. However much I enjoy helping my friends in the orders, I'm afraid I am heavily burdened with duties.”

Addae turned away without saying anything, and Ebryn followed. He thought he felt Phar Salsa's eyes on him until they'd passed through the gate. Addae had a face as rigid as stone. He glared from under furrowed brows, with the muscles in his jaws working, and teeth clenched firmly together.

Addae stopped a short way down the road beyond the outer wall. “Were he in my lands, I would cut out his lying tongue, and geld him for his usury.”

“What do you mean?” Ebryn asked.

“Khet'Tuk is not in bonded servitude to Phar Salsa by chance. Is it not clear, the lender is the cause of his misfortune?”

“How would he be able to do that?”

“Khet'Tuk's borrowed thirty thousand guilders from Phar, a very great sum. Did you know there is a fee to be paid to the lender on such a sum, each season or each year?”

Ebryn shook his head. “No, I didn't. Is that what he meant by interest?”

“A part of the amount is added to what must be repaid. In time, if no payments are made, the debt grows larger,” Addae said.

“Phar said when Khet'Tuk couldn't buy the land he wanted, he returned the loan.”

“Yes, my friend, Khet'Tuk repaid the sum lent by Phar Salsa. Yet I fear he could not repay the fee without the land he needed. Is it not strange that another bid such a great sum for this same land? If possession of this land allowed Khet'Tuk to repay the full value of the debt, and the fee, it may be Phar Salsa wanted it for his own—”