vanish like morning fog. House Varl learned that lesson as well, and more than once! No, thought Fyrelm, this time his foes would have something of substance.
Fyrelm's comm beeped.
"Your guests have arrived, sir," reported Jackson Osbury, Fyrelm's butler for as long as he could remember, "I've served them wine and cheese and they both seem in good cheer."
"Thank you, Osbury."
Fyrelm couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. In Osbury's world serving the wrong cheese with the wine constituted a greater catastrophe than the impending collapse of the House he had served for most of his life. He knew his Laird would handle such trivial matters so long as he and his guests received proper attention.
Fyrelm took a moment to collect his thoughts and review what he planned to ask before rising. No House, Great or Lesser, especially one allied, would refuse an invitation to dine with the Laird of House Brightcrown. It pained Fyrelm to think of his dearest friends thusly, but better that than any of the alternatives. He took a moment outside the library to compose himself and summon a smile.
"My Laird Brightcrown," announced his herald, "is most pleased to welcome you, my Laird Edders. My Laird Brightcrown is most pleased to welcome you, my Laird McReely. Please to find comfort and welcome at our hearth and home."
Fyrelm, Edders and McReely all shared a warm smile at the announcement. Though not as old as Osbury, Brightcrown's Chief Herald certainly lived in the same world. As long as he announced their guests properly and saw them receive due courtesy all disasters would fall to nothing.
"M'Lord Reginald," said McReely, "Always a pleasure. You as well, m'Lord Luther."
"Always and ever," affirmed Edders.
The three Lairds bowed and acknowledged each other properly and the herald bowed and left. Then they relaxed, dropped all formality and sat. They discussed mundane and amusing matters pertaining to their Houses until Osbury appeared and announced dinner. That luxury, at least, they still had.
The three of them kept the conversation light during dinner. Once again Fyrelm's chefs did their Laird and House proud. Even McReely praised it and he'd spent his youth traveling and trading throughout the League. Then, as they relaxed in a meeting room with an excellent aperitif, Edders spoke seriously.
"I take it you've heard the rumors, Reginald."
"Indeed so, Luke. They are of some concern but I have other matters troubling me more."
"How so?" To Edders nothing outranked possible Moot action against one's House.
Fyrelm garbled the room, called up the summaries of his data and presented them.
"Interesting," said McReely, himself a very astute businessman, "Have you checked their cargo manifests, shipping records and trade schedules?"
"Thoroughly, Savn. I've asked the Elder Guards, my own agents and even the League officer here. None of them reported aught off the beam."
"That means they're being sneakier than we are," said McReely. Then, sarcastically, "That's a coronation week surprise."
"What do you wish us to do," asked Edders, "Without regretting the necessity and despising the fact that you must ask it. We are friends as well as allies and you know we'll gladly help."
Fyrelm winced at that but McReely merely smiled and nodded.
"Thank you, Luke. It does pain me to ask but ask I must." He handed each of them a datacube. "This is the extent of what I've found so far. Please help me investigate this as best you're able. Luke, House Edders is as capable and tenacious as its roots to the Founding. Savn, nothing escapes House McReely's notice. Whatever Josef Fadding is planning will not bode well for any of us and blind surprise will only sauce it worse."
"With pleasure and with honor!" "Absolutely!"
"Thank you both," said Fyrelm sincerely, "Make no mistake. House Varl is cunning and devious past all sanity. Our ignorance of its plans makes it even more dangerous. I shall do all that I am able to distract, but do not
Fyrelm's comm beeped.
"Your guests have arrived, sir," reported Jackson Osbury, Fyrelm's butler for as long as he could remember, "I've served them wine and cheese and they both seem in good cheer."
"Thank you, Osbury."
Fyrelm couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. In Osbury's world serving the wrong cheese with the wine constituted a greater catastrophe than the impending collapse of the House he had served for most of his life. He knew his Laird would handle such trivial matters so long as he and his guests received proper attention.
Fyrelm took a moment to collect his thoughts and review what he planned to ask before rising. No House, Great or Lesser, especially one allied, would refuse an invitation to dine with the Laird of House Brightcrown. It pained Fyrelm to think of his dearest friends thusly, but better that than any of the alternatives. He took a moment outside the library to compose himself and summon a smile.
"My Laird Brightcrown," announced his herald, "is most pleased to welcome you, my Laird Edders. My Laird Brightcrown is most pleased to welcome you, my Laird McReely. Please to find comfort and welcome at our hearth and home."
Fyrelm, Edders and McReely all shared a warm smile at the announcement. Though not as old as Osbury, Brightcrown's Chief Herald certainly lived in the same world. As long as he announced their guests properly and saw them receive due courtesy all disasters would fall to nothing.
"M'Lord Reginald," said McReely, "Always a pleasure. You as well, m'Lord Luther."
"Always and ever," affirmed Edders.
The three Lairds bowed and acknowledged each other properly and the herald bowed and left. Then they relaxed, dropped all formality and sat. They discussed mundane and amusing matters pertaining to their Houses until Osbury appeared and announced dinner. That luxury, at least, they still had.
The three of them kept the conversation light during dinner. Once again Fyrelm's chefs did their Laird and House proud. Even McReely praised it and he'd spent his youth traveling and trading throughout the League. Then, as they relaxed in a meeting room with an excellent aperitif, Edders spoke seriously.
"I take it you've heard the rumors, Reginald."
"Indeed so, Luke. They are of some concern but I have other matters troubling me more."
"How so?" To Edders nothing outranked possible Moot action against one's House.
Fyrelm garbled the room, called up the summaries of his data and presented them.
"Interesting," said McReely, himself a very astute businessman, "Have you checked their cargo manifests, shipping records and trade schedules?"
"Thoroughly, Savn. I've asked the Elder Guards, my own agents and even the League officer here. None of them reported aught off the beam."
"That means they're being sneakier than we are," said McReely. Then, sarcastically, "That's a coronation week surprise."
"What do you wish us to do," asked Edders, "Without regretting the necessity and despising the fact that you must ask it. We are friends as well as allies and you know we'll gladly help."
Fyrelm winced at that but McReely merely smiled and nodded.
"Thank you, Luke. It does pain me to ask but ask I must." He handed each of them a datacube. "This is the extent of what I've found so far. Please help me investigate this as best you're able. Luke, House Edders is as capable and tenacious as its roots to the Founding. Savn, nothing escapes House McReely's notice. Whatever Josef Fadding is planning will not bode well for any of us and blind surprise will only sauce it worse."
"With pleasure and with honor!" "Absolutely!"
"Thank you both," said Fyrelm sincerely, "Make no mistake. House Varl is cunning and devious past all sanity. Our ignorance of its plans makes it even more dangerous. I shall do all that I am able to distract, but do not
Similar Books
