Swordmage by Richard Baker

still-damp hair and said, “Tell me, what brings you to my humble home? How may I be of service to you, my lady?”
    Darsi smiled at that and seated herself in a fine Turmishan couch by the fire. She removed her hat; her maidservant silently took it from her hand and withdrew again. Her hair was her best feature, a splendid cascade of molten gold that fell in soft waves to a handspan below the nape of her slender neck. Twenty years ago she had been a stunning beauty, a green-eyed enchantress with a heart-shaped face and perfect features. Men had killed to win the chance to woo her. She was still an exceptionally attractive woman, but the girlish softness had worn away from her features, and the barest hint of frown lines had crept into her face. “Well, my lord Hulmaster, it seems that your long-lost cousin Geran saw fit to stop my armsmen from collecting council dues from a small provisioner on Plank Street—Erstenwolds, in fact. And I’ve just received a note from your sister requesting an explanation for my armsmen’s behavior.”
    Sergen grimaced. “I heard the same story. What will you tell my dear sister?”
    “I’ll tell her that armsmen in my employ are under strict instructions to follow all local laws, and that if in fact these three men conducted themselves as reported, then it was purely on their own initiative and for their own personal gain. Should their misconduct be proven, I will of course discharge them from my service immediately.”
    “Indeed.” Sergen allowed himself a long, low chuckle. The situation was not amusing at all, really, but the audacity of Darsi Veruna’s lies deserved some measure of approbation. Of course she’d known exactly what the three armsmen were up to, but Kara could never prove that she did. And without ironclad proof, well, the harmach and his agents simply lacked the political strength to accuse a powerful merchant company like House Veruna of unsavory conduct. Oh, Kara could lay out charges on behalf of their uncle, and in all likelihood she would be widely believed. But Darsi
    Veruna would simply hand over a scapegoat or three and House Veruna would carry on with its business. “I wonder what my stepsister will say to that?” he asked aloud.
    “I doubt she’ll be pleased,” Darsi replied. Though her manner was cool and calm, Sergen knew her well enough to recognize the subtle sharpness of her tone as a sign of intense annoyance. “Perhaps I should curtail my efforts to enforce council edicts. If my men are discovered in the very act of extortion—or discovered in some of our less savory activities—even your feeble old uncle will have to do something.”
    Sergen’s amusement vanished. “The council business is not that important, Darsi, but the search for the book must not be delayed. Need I remind you whom we are dealing with?”
    “A reckless gamble, in my estimation. House Veruna is deeply invested in opening this rude little backwater of a town, Sergen. We’ve done well here, but we’ve spent a fortune to get to this point. If your uncle decides to slap my wrist, it could be extremely costly for my family.”
    “When I am harmach, any such costs you suffer will be repaid, dear Darsi.” Now Sergen understood her true concern. The Verunas were nobles of Mulmaster, the powerful city-state across the Moonsea from Hulburg. Like several other important families of Mulmaster, their power was counted in the profitability of their trading ventures throughout the region. Setbacks Veruna experienced in Hulburg would reflect poorly on Darsi and damage her standing among her well-born but viciously competitive relations. It was time to remind her of the stakes of the game. “How much gold would pour into House Veruna’s coffers if your rivals were suddenly subjected to a ruinous tariff? Or if you were given the opportunity to buy out the leases on their logging and mineral rights? A great prize is worth a modest risk, my dear; fortune favors the bold. Should my