ploy work, you will make House Veruna the most powerful merchant company in the Moonsea by the end of the year.”
“But first you must become harmach.” Darsi Veruna folded her hands in her lap and regarded him with her catlike
eyes for a long time, weighing his chances. Sergen met her gaze without flinching. Finally she inclined her head subtly, acknowledging his point. Veruna was the strongest coster in Hulburg, but it was only one of many in Mulmaster. It might cost her a small fortune to put Sergen on the throne, but it would give her a tremendous advantage over her rivals if she succeeded. “Speaking of which… tell me about your cousin Geran.”
“A thickheaded fool who never had to work for anything in his life,” Sergen said. He had no use for any of the so-called “true” Hulmasters, even though he’d claimed the Hulmaster name from the time he’d been twelve. “Don’t worry about Geran. He left Hulburg ten years ago; he’ll soon enough be on his way.”
“Where has he been for all this time?” Darsi asked. “What’s he been doing?”
“Supposedly, soon after he left to see the world, he fell in with a band of adventurers who called themselves the Company of the Dragon Shield. He won himself a small fortune by plundering some dismal dungeon in the Vast.” Sergen swirled his wine in the goblet, stirring up the spices. He’d made inquiries over the last few years to find out more about where his so-called cousin had vanished to. “Seven years ago he bought an owner’s share in the Red Sail Coster of Tantras and enjoyed some small success as a merchant speculating in various cargoes on the Sea of Fallen Stars.”
“The Red Sails,” Darsi murmured. “Yes, I know them. Go on.”
“Geran’s father, Bernov Hulmaster, was killed in a skirmish about eight and a half years ago. Geran came home for the funeral but stayed only a few days before returning to Tantras. His mother retired to an Ilmateran convent near Thentia soon after that. Then Geran simply vanished for several years, leaving the Red Sail Coster in the hands of his partners. No one knew where he’d gone, but a year ago last Uktar he resurfaced in Tantras. I learned that he’d been in Myth Drannor, where he’d won the favor of the coronal.
There were rumors that he was suddenly exiled. I heard stories of a feud with a rival, a duel fought for the favor of an elf princess, even whispers of some black curse hanging over him that forced the coronal to send him away.” Sergen smiled darkly. “I still don’t have the whole tale, but it seems clear that Geran left Myth Drannor under a cloud. You should have seen his face when I asked him about it.”
“My armsmen told me that he used magic when he confronted them in Erstenwold’s shop,” Darsi said, gazing thoughtfully down at her goblet. “They said he carried a blade of elven steel. And I’ve heard that he used the same sort of swordmagic against the Crimson Chains he and his little halfling friend cut apart in the Tailings. Is that something he learned in Myth Drannor?”
Sergen shrugged. “I suspect the reports are exaggerated, since I’ve never known him to demonstrate any such ability. I doubt that Geran would have the aptitude or discipline to learn magic, but I suppose he might have found an enchanted sword during his travels.”
“So what does his return signify for you?” Darsi asked.
“Most likely nothing. I expect that Geran will tire of Hulburg and go back to Tantras, Myth Drannor, or anywhere else but here soon enough. There is little to hold him here. He’ll be gone within a tenday.”
“Most likely,” Darsi agreed in a pleasant voice. “But what if he decides to stay? What happens if you find yourself sharing your family responsibilities with another capable Hulmaster who’s not a spellscarred bitch? Is there any chance that Grigor might decide that Geran would make a better regent for his grandson, Kirr, than you? Or, for that matter, a better
“But first you must become harmach.” Darsi Veruna folded her hands in her lap and regarded him with her catlike
eyes for a long time, weighing his chances. Sergen met her gaze without flinching. Finally she inclined her head subtly, acknowledging his point. Veruna was the strongest coster in Hulburg, but it was only one of many in Mulmaster. It might cost her a small fortune to put Sergen on the throne, but it would give her a tremendous advantage over her rivals if she succeeded. “Speaking of which… tell me about your cousin Geran.”
“A thickheaded fool who never had to work for anything in his life,” Sergen said. He had no use for any of the so-called “true” Hulmasters, even though he’d claimed the Hulmaster name from the time he’d been twelve. “Don’t worry about Geran. He left Hulburg ten years ago; he’ll soon enough be on his way.”
“Where has he been for all this time?” Darsi asked. “What’s he been doing?”
“Supposedly, soon after he left to see the world, he fell in with a band of adventurers who called themselves the Company of the Dragon Shield. He won himself a small fortune by plundering some dismal dungeon in the Vast.” Sergen swirled his wine in the goblet, stirring up the spices. He’d made inquiries over the last few years to find out more about where his so-called cousin had vanished to. “Seven years ago he bought an owner’s share in the Red Sail Coster of Tantras and enjoyed some small success as a merchant speculating in various cargoes on the Sea of Fallen Stars.”
“The Red Sails,” Darsi murmured. “Yes, I know them. Go on.”
“Geran’s father, Bernov Hulmaster, was killed in a skirmish about eight and a half years ago. Geran came home for the funeral but stayed only a few days before returning to Tantras. His mother retired to an Ilmateran convent near Thentia soon after that. Then Geran simply vanished for several years, leaving the Red Sail Coster in the hands of his partners. No one knew where he’d gone, but a year ago last Uktar he resurfaced in Tantras. I learned that he’d been in Myth Drannor, where he’d won the favor of the coronal.
There were rumors that he was suddenly exiled. I heard stories of a feud with a rival, a duel fought for the favor of an elf princess, even whispers of some black curse hanging over him that forced the coronal to send him away.” Sergen smiled darkly. “I still don’t have the whole tale, but it seems clear that Geran left Myth Drannor under a cloud. You should have seen his face when I asked him about it.”
“My armsmen told me that he used magic when he confronted them in Erstenwold’s shop,” Darsi said, gazing thoughtfully down at her goblet. “They said he carried a blade of elven steel. And I’ve heard that he used the same sort of swordmagic against the Crimson Chains he and his little halfling friend cut apart in the Tailings. Is that something he learned in Myth Drannor?”
Sergen shrugged. “I suspect the reports are exaggerated, since I’ve never known him to demonstrate any such ability. I doubt that Geran would have the aptitude or discipline to learn magic, but I suppose he might have found an enchanted sword during his travels.”
“So what does his return signify for you?” Darsi asked.
“Most likely nothing. I expect that Geran will tire of Hulburg and go back to Tantras, Myth Drannor, or anywhere else but here soon enough. There is little to hold him here. He’ll be gone within a tenday.”
“Most likely,” Darsi agreed in a pleasant voice. “But what if he decides to stay? What happens if you find yourself sharing your family responsibilities with another capable Hulmaster who’s not a spellscarred bitch? Is there any chance that Grigor might decide that Geran would make a better regent for his grandson, Kirr, than you? Or, for that matter, a better
Similar Books
