Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away. Proverbs 4: 14-15
Count Wyeth Poldara was a very unhappy man.
Though he personally had acted bravely in the final battle of the Tedrel War and his regiments had performed well, Wyeth was stung by the fact his son had been branded a coward.
Kensie had admitted fleeing when the Tedrels had made a breech in the line, but the boy claimed he had rallied and attempted to return to the fight only to be banished to the rear by the Count's lieutenant. Kensie claimed that he had joined the universal charge after King Sendar had fallen, but no witness had come forward to support Kensie's claim. The fact that Kensie and his horse were both completely uninjured made the boy's claim sound dubious.
Though Wyeth desperately wanted to believe his son, he had learned long ago not to let wishful thinking cloud his judgment.
Kensie's claim that he had seen a man in Lord Orthallen's livery emerge from the ditch that had hidden the infiltrators who had brought down the King seemed a fantastical invention to bolster his story. Dangerously fantastical.
Orthallen was the most powerful man on the Royal Council and his patronage was sought by all of the nobles of Valdemar, including Count Wyeth. Wyeth supported Orthallen because he was an effective and able administrator as well as a skilled negotiator who had helped Sendar and his heir Selenay resolve many sticky issues.
But Wyeth knew that Lord Orthallen was as ruthless as he was able. Nobles who crossed or offended Orthallen found their ambitions thwarted and petitions stalled. Sins and peculations that nobles had thought forgotten would suddenly come to light, causing hardship and even ruin. A few had even perished under mysterious circumstances. None of this could ever be traced to Orthallen, but very few of the nobles of Valdemar dared displease or oppose him.
Wyeth had ordered his son never to breathe a word of his claim to anyone under any circumstances. He told Kensie bluntly that repeating it could prove disastrous Kensie and the family. He had gone so far as to tell Kensie not even to mention it again to Wyeth himself, flapping his ear to signal to his son that even Wyeth feared the consequences of being overheard by spies.
Since the battle, the Count had spoken to his son only once. Wyeth's first problem had been to return the village militias to their homes. He took his duty to his vassals seriously and tried to restore the men and women who had fought under him to their previous condition. For those who had died, Wyeth tried to ensure their families would be cared for. He sought ways to place disabled soldiers in meaningful work.
Wyeth's diligence had caught the attention of the Lord Marshal. At the request of the Lord Marshal, Wyeth had been appointed as Special Marshal for the entire kingdom, charged with seeing to it that the other nobles took equal care of their own vassals.
The post had only a small stipend attached to it, so it did nothing to relieve the enormous bills that Wyeth had incurred during the war. Wyeth desperately wanted to get back to his own estates and work on clearing his debts.
Still, the Count had a strong sense of duty and worked diligently at his assigned task. His high rank and gracious tact made him the best man for the job, which he managed efficiently. Seldom did he have to invoke the powers he'd been given to compel a noble to care properly for the vassals who had served under them.
A few nobles like the odious Baron Futcher or Lord Gartheser attempted to bribe Wyeth to get him to 'look the other way'. Wyeth simply pretended to misunderstand them – in a way that made it clear that he understood perfectly – while insisting that they carry out their feudal obligations.
When Baron Futcher accused Wyeth of disloyalty to his class, Wyeth told him the tale of his ancestor Count Miron Poldara. Count Miron succeeded his father Dashan as Lord Marshal of Valdemar. Though militarily brilliant, Miron had a reputation as a harsh disciplinarian.
During a campaign against an army of mercenaries and pirates who had attempted to set up their own territory in scarcely populated lands south and east of Lake Evendim, Miron wanted to avoid alienating the few inhabitants, whose loyalty to Valdemar was not yet firmly established. Among the many orders that Miron had issued, he had decreed that any man whose horse strayed into the grain-fields of the local inhabitants would receive ten lashes.
Less than a fortnight into the campaign, Miron's horrified batman brought the general word that Miron's own horse had so strayed. Miron's own lieutenants had tried to dismiss the matter, saying that, as commanding general, Miron was naturally exempt.
Miron would have none of it. The next day, in front of the entire army, the Lord Marshal's Herald read out the general's offense and Lord Marshal Count Miron Poldara received ten lashes.
"So you see, My Lord Baron," Count Wyeth concluded, "adherence to the law of the land is my family's tradition. Her Majesty has put this task upon me: I will see that you fulfill your duties to your vassals."
By late fall, Wyeth had finished most of the task. He had done well enough that Selenay herself had once come personally to his office to commend him. Only a few loose ends remained and Wyeth began to turn his attention to restoring his finances.
He had mentioned his need for income to Lord Orthallen, who had suggested that he speak to Guildmaster Vatean of the Merchants' Guild.
Count Poldara personally disliked Vatean. The Guildmaster had all the irritating mannerisms of the parvenu and social climber that he so obviously was. Vatean blatantly flaunted his wealth and seemed to be prospering despite the high taxation of the war years. He also lavished extravagant gifts on those whose favor he sought. Wyeth was not clear on the source of Vatean's income as the Guildmaster had no connection with the enterprises the Count currently invested in.
The Count was perfectly willing to invest in new businesses and learn something new. Nor did his personal feelings about his business partners prevent him dealing with them. Many of his current investments were managed by people Wyeth would not associate with socially.
Prudence, however, demanded that he fully understand what he was involving himself in. While the promise of large profits was alluring, Wyeth Poldara had never allowed himself to join any enterprise without knowing everything he could about the trade. To that end, Wyeth had directed his spymaster to investigate Guildmaster Vatean.
Count Wyeth's spymaster was the fourth daughter of a cloth merchant. In her youth, Odelle Deschner had been one of the great beauties of Haven. Being the fourth daughter, her only marriage options had been elderly men seeking a trophy wife or the younger sons of other merchants. The elderly men were decidedly unattractive. The younger sons had either been arrogant twits or pimply sprats lacking social graces.
Neither option had appealed to her. To the horror of her family, Odelle found another: She became a courtesan. Wyeth had been one of her first clients and soon found he appreciated her intelligence and wit more than her skills in bed.
Odelle became fond of Wyeth and. when Wyeth told her of his impending betrothal to Delia Soman, had warned Wyeth against the marriage. Through one of her other clients, Odelle had learned that the Soman family savagely mistreated the inhabitants of their Duchy. Realizing it would take more than the word of a courtesan to dissuade Wyeth's father from contracting the betrothal of his son to Delia Soman, Odelle used her contacts to gather convincing evidence. She passed the evidence to Wyeth who in turn gave it to his father, Count Jolyon.
Odelle's evidence had been so convincing and damning, that Count Jolyon not only broke off the negotiations with Duke Soman, but took the evidence to the newly crowned King Sendar.
The subsequent trial of Duke Ryder Soman had shown that the entire family was involved in the scandal. The family was disgraced and degraded from the nobility and the estates were confiscated.
For his own reasons, Count Jolyon had not wanted his role in the exposure of Duke Soman to be known; Sendar had arranged for a team of Heralds to 'discover' the evidence and charge Duke Soman. With Count Jolyon apparently not involved, Odelle's role was likewise concealed.
Grateful for Odelle's information, Count Jolyon had set her up in her own establishment and enlisted her in his network of spies. When his own spymaster retired, Odelle became Jolyon's spymaster, a position she kept when Wyeth inherited the County.
Lady Lora knew of Odelle; it was Odelle who had discovered the capable youngest daughter of Duke Marduk during one of her missions on behalf of Count Jolyon. Lora was aware of Odelle's spying activities and accepted that Odelle had been her husband's lover, though that was now only a cover for Odelle's true role. Lora's apparent acceptance of her husband's receiving visits from his lover even in their own house caused much tongue wagging among her peers.
Odelle Deschner arrived at Count Wyeth's townhouse in Haven the night before Sovran. Wyeth's majordomo, unaware of Odelle's true role, escorted the fashionably dressed, handsome woman to Wyeth's office. The majordomo smiled knowingly as he closed the door behind Odelle.
Once the majordomo was gone. Wyeth stood and drew the curtain across the doorway to prevent anyone listening through the door. When he returned to his desk, Odelle handed her report on Guildmaster Vatean to Wyeth and said "This is the only copy. I suggest you burn it after reading it." Wyeth blinked at her statement and picked up the report.
The spymaster had sat patiently while Wyeth read the report. By the third paragraph, the hairs on the back of Wyeth's neck had been rising. When he finished the report, Wyeth fought to control his revulsion and fear. Not only was he disgusted, but he realized the terrible danger the simple fact of knowing what had been written represented.
"Does anyone else know what is written here?" He asked.
The elegantly dressed spymaster arched her eyebrows. "If you mean 'has anyone else read this?' the answer is no. I finished writing it just before I left to come here. I burned all of the information from my agents once I was done with it.
"Obviously, some of my agents have bits and pieces of the picture. They are smart men and women, they can make astute deductions from partial information. I would assume they would have a good idea of the implications of what they learned.
"I told them all that the information was dangerous to know and even more dangerous to let it be known that it was known. They are all intelligent enough to keep their mouths shut. None of them wants to swim the Terilee with a piece of steel in their back."
"Good." The Count replied. "I can't protect them if they aren't discreet."
"What are you going to do?" The spymaster asked.
"Find other investments." Count Wyeth said. "Even if I wanted to soil my hands with such filth, the risks of being entangled are too great. Exposure would destroy me and my House."
"I'm glad you feel that way," she said, "I don't think I'd want to work for you any more if you associated yourself with that man."
Wyeth smiled. "I will try not to disappoint you. Has there been any progress on the other matter?"
Odelle sighed. "I am sorry, my friend. I can find no one who can say they saw your son return to the battle. Everyone tells my agents the same story: They were too busy trying to stay alive themselves to notice who was beside them."
The Count's shoulders sagged. "Thank you for trying. Please keep at it. I can't even begin seeking a betrothal for him until this cloud over his head has dispersed."
Odelle rose. "I will, Milord." Privately, she thought Wyeth should disown Kensie and let the title go to Grayson, but she could see that her employer and friend was not ready to do that.
After Odelle left, Wyeth threw the report into the fire. As he watched it burn, he puzzled over why Orthallen had recommended a partnership with Vatean.
Did Orthallen know what Vatean was up to? Wyeth snorted at his own question. Of course Orthallen knew. The man's spy network was larger than Wyeth's; Orthallen was obsessive about learning everyone's secrets. Orthallen would never recommend someone without knowing everything about the person he recommended.
Blackmail! Wyeth felt a chill run down his spine as he realized Orthallen's purpose. Orthallen wanted Wyeth involved in a matter that would allow Orthallen to expose and destroy the Count if Wyeth ever became a threat or opposed Orthallen. Orthallen himself was not involved with Vatean –at least not in a way that anyone could trace – so Wyeth would not have a counterbalancing threat against him. Orthallen could even admit that he had recommended Vatean to Wyeth, but only on the basis that the Guildmaster had appeared to be nothing more than an astute businessman. If Wyeth entered into a partnership with Vatean, Wyeth would be Orthallen's man, body and soul.
Unwilling to confront or oppose Orthallen, Wyeth would have to find a graceful way to decline involvement with Vatean. The simplest would be to claim that his current investments and activities consumed so much of Wyeth's time that he could not give a new partnership the attention required.
Wyeth would have to content himself with taking longer to clear his debts.
As he stirred the ashes to ensure the report was completely consumed, Wyeth thought once more of Kensie's tale about seeing a man in Orthallen's livery at the battle. In the light of what his spymaster had told him, Wyeth wondered if there was more to his son's story than he had guessed.
Could Orthallen be playing a vaster, deeper and more sinister game? Maybe. And maybe not. Whatever the answer, Wyeth did not wish to be involved. For now, he would curb his aspirations of gaining a seat on the Royal Council and seek Orthallen's favor less.
Wyeth poked the fire once more and turned his mind to his other problem: What should he do about his son? Wyeth knew that many thought he should disown Kensie, but he could not bring himself to do so. For better or worse, he loved his son.
Wyeth prayed for the merest scrap of evidence to show that Kensie had indeed redeemed himself in battle. Until he found that evidence, the world would believe his son a coward. Beyond the social stigma, the reputation would make it extremely difficult for Kensie if he were to succeed Wyeth. The blot could only be expunged by disproving the allegation or by Kensie performing some act of personal bravery that would rescue his name.
But, outside of a war, the opportunity to show bravery was rare. In peacetime, members of the army seldom wielded arms in combat and, even when fighting battles against bandits, individual soldiers and guardsmen were just one of many combatants. Any personal act of bravery was wrapped up with the courage of others. Finding a commission for Kensie would not solve the problem.
A desperate situation required desperate and often strange measures. Wyeth wanted to give his son the chance to redeem himself. To save Kensie's reputation, the Count would enlist the services of a man whose reputation was beyond reproach.
Wyeth took a sheet of paper and wrote a note to Kensie, summoning him to Haven. He sealed it and called a servant to take it to Bransat.
When Kensie arrived, there would be another meeting.