“Murara, would you tell my daughter and granddaughter that I’d like to see them here in the study?”
The serving girl who is far more than that, Lerial knows, not only from Kyedra’s veiled references, but also from the look that passes between her and Aenslem, nods and departs. Lerial understands that what has just occurred is Aenslem’s way of showing a degree of trust in Lerial.
What else does he want? Lerial isn’t even ashamed of himself for thinking that, not after a season in Afrit.
A small fraction of a glass passes before the study door opens again and Haesychya and Kyedra enter. Kyedra closes the door more firmly than necessary, and Haesycha moves to the leather couch and sits down.
As Kyedra passes Lerial to also take a seat on the leather couch, she glances at Lerial, not at all happily, and he can sense a feeling almost of betrayal.
“That was my doing,” says Aenslem, who has seen the look. “You can ask Cathylt. I left word that whenever Lord Lerial arrived, I was to see him first.”
“You could have let us know,” rejoins Haesychya coolly.
“I just have. It is my villa, as I recall.”
“That’s something that’s never been in question.” Haesychya’s tone remains cool.
“We’ll discuss that later, Daughter. I will assure you that he was sent to inform you of certain things, and that he has not told me one thing. In fact, the only thing he has said is that he has no intention of returning to Cigoerne in order to gather forces to invade Afrit.”
“That’s ridiculous,” snaps Haesychya. “They couldn’t do that.”
“Unfortunately you’re wrong, Daughter. As a result of the war with Heldya, we now have less than half the forces available to Duke Kiedron.” Aenslem turns to Lerial. “Is that not so?”
“We could muster nine full battalions at present. Although there are officially about twelve battalions of Afritan Guards, most are at far less than full complement. Some are battalions in name only. Neither I nor my sire has any such intent, as I told your father. It would be a victory we would not survive.”
“That’s all you told him?”
“That’s all.”
“Now that we have settled that matter,” Aenslem says gruffly, “I think we all would like to hear what Lerial has to report about his recent journey to the lakes.”
Lerial looks straight at Haesychya. “Duke Rhamuel asked that I inform you first. If you wish me to do that without others present, I will do so.”
Haesychya offers a faint and cool smile. “You actually would, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“There’s little point in that. I’d have to tell father and Kyedra what you said, and repeating it might be doubly painful. Go ahead.”
“The duke requested I travel to the lakes to see if I could discover what happened to his brother and whether certain merchanters might have been involved…” Lerial goes on to relate the story just as he had to Rhamuel, almost word for word.
When he finishes, for several moments, no one says anything. Then Aenslem clears his throat. “There’s no hard proof that Maesoryk did anything, but it’s clear he was as guilty as Jhosef or Alaphyn. You couldn’t do anything? Wasn’t that why Rhamuel sent you to the lakes, rather than one of his Afritan Guard commanders?”
“He never said so, but it doubtless was. The problem is that, just as you know that, so does every merchanter in Afrit. If I’d done anything obvious to Maesoryk, all the merchanters remaining in Afrit would be wondering when Rhamuel might turn on them, because, frankly, not a single one of you is without guilt in doing something against the duke or his predecessor.”
Haesychya nods, although she does not speak.
“You have an answer for everything,” declares Aenslem. “But Maesoryk will feel he can do anything now.”
“He’s likely ill. He doesn’t know it, but he is. We’ll just have to see how matters progress.”
“And you have no obligation to heal him. Is that it?” asks Aenslem.
“Do you think I do … after everything?” asks Lerial.
The merchanter shakes his head. “I just hope you’re right.”
“So do I.” Although Lerial is fairly certain he is, he hopes that matters “progress” as he has planned.
Haesychya looks to her father for a moment, and something passes between the two before she turns. “I have a few matters to discuss with your grandfather, Kyedra. If you would not mind entertaining Lerial for a few moments before he leaves, we would appreciate that. If you can stay,” she adds, looking to Lerial.
“I have some time before I need to return to Afritan Guard headquarters.” He turns to Kyedra. “If it would not be an imposition.”
“I believe I can manage,” returns Kyedra dryly. “At least for a time.”
Lerial manages not to wince, but he and Kyedra stand at the same time. Neither speaks as they leave Aenslem’s study.
Once they enter the lady’s study and Lerial closes the door, he turns to Kyedra. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to offend your grandfather.”