The Masters of Taryan

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The fire in the grate had all but gone out, but the young man sitting in a nearby armchair made no move to poke it back into life despite the fact that the wind was howling outside and the rain fell in sheets. From time to time, he rose and paced the length of the massive drawing room, mussing his dark hair because he kept running a hand through it in frustration. Aside from the crash and roar of the storm outside, the only other sound was that of the grandfather clock in the corner: seconds ticking and tumbling one after the other, minute following minute in the relentless march of time. And, for the young man, every passing second only served to worsen the dread he felt within. Master! a voice suddenly cried, breaking the unbearable silence. Master! The young man spun around and saw the family majordomo running into the room. At first, the young mans heart sank and he feared the worst. Then, as the lights in the room flickered on, he saw that there was joy and relief on the old butlers face. Nelchin? the young man exclaimed as the majordomo gripped his arms. What news? Master Arties been found, mlord, Nelchin declared joyously. How is he? Come, mlord. Schendal von Haikahn felt his heart pounding as he followed old Nelchin out to the main entrance of the manor. It had been nearly three days since his younger brother failed to come home from school, nearly two since a note was left at the manor gates advising the young Matre de Cieux to give his brother up as lost. And now It was like the Scripture read at Aifreann just the previous Sabbath: the lad who was lost, given up for dead by all save for his father. It was the old tale of the boy who came home; the boy who was forgiven for his debauchery so long as he came home safe and sound.

Only, in this particular case, Artie had done nothing wrong. His only crime, perhaps, was that hed been born to their fathers mistress rather than his rightful wife and that sad fact was most probably why hed been taken in the first place. Artie! he cried, breaking into a sprint when he saw the shaking, blanketwrapped form of his younger brother. Schend! Sobbing, the boy flew into his big brothers arms. Schendal noted that his clothes were drenched, but made no move to release him. Instead, he embraced young Artavian as tightly as he could, resting his chin onto the crown of the boys damp-haired head. Praise on High! he mumbled, his deep voice shaky with relief. Hush, laddie; youre home. Youre safe now. Hed better be, a young womans voice remarked bluntly from behind. When Schendal turned, he saw a familiar figure leaning in the archway leading to the manors east receiving room. Ill think very badly of you if he comes into any more harm, Schendal von Haikahn. She was a shapely girl dressed comfortably in mannish garb: mud-stained boots and breeches, a damp white shirt with its sleeves rolled to her elbows beneath a black vest. Her vivid red hair thick waves the color of fire was damp and pulled back behind her head save for a few loose tendrils clinging wetly around her perfectly oval face. Amis! Schendal exclaimed, extending one arm towards her while keeping the other around shivering Artie. How? I asked around, Amis replied with a shrug as she shook hands with him. Plus, your mother was behaving rather, ah, suspiciously when I saw her at the Centrum this morning. Schendals heart froze at this. My mother? he asked, frowning darkly as he spoke. Oh, my apologies, my dear. The hag who bore you, then. Thats better, Schendal grunted. He had never really considered his mother as such; it was, after all, Artavians mother who had raised them both and loved them all unconditionally.

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Anyway, I managed to trail her to the salon and, wonder of wonders, she let slip that she had our Artie here picked up and sold to one of those flesh-markets over on Brandenwilde Road. Schendal stared first at her, then at his brother. His heart sank. Did? Artie shook his head vigorously, scattering droplets of water as he did so. No, sir, he replied tremulously. But theyd put me on the block already and they were about to sell me to someone when Miss Amis came in. He gulped nervously and added that the auctioneer and the buyer had already ripped his clothing off and were on the verge of taking him when Amis arrived and started shooting everyone who got in her way. Miss killed the man who bought me before he could even touch me, he said. Then she grabbed the mask off the auctioneer and threatened to ruin him if he didnt let me go. It was Baron Lumley, Amis declared angrily. The one who bought him was one of those nouveau riche scum with too much in the way of money and bad habits but too little in the way of either sense or brains. You threatened to expose Baron Lumley?! Schendal half-screeched, his eyes widening in amazement. Youre forgetting that the old goats currently on parole, Amis reminded him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. One false move, and its either he goes back to the big house or he gets the block. Schendal whistled admiringly at this. commended her. Aye, well, hell not be bothering you or Artie anymore, she assured him, smiling kindly at Artavian and smoothing back the boys damp hair. Nor will he be entertaining any bulls-crap from the bint who bore you. What do you mean? I told him that anyone who tries to mess with Famille Haikahn via Petra nahn Cobblin answers to me personally, if I may add. You dont have to do this, Amis! Dont put your own life and rep on the line for That took serious balls, lass, he

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Amis held a hand up. Your family and mine have been friends and partners for generations, she said. Anyone messes with you, they answer to us and vice versa. No one would mess with you, Miss Amis, Artavian chimed in, blue eyes wide in admiration. Thats sweet of you, laddie. Gently, she bestowed a kiss on his forehead. Schendal noted this and said, And I recall that you have certain, ah, personal commitments, as well. And then some, Amis agreed, pulling the blanket around Artavians slender form. But thats far off. In the meantime, get someone to run this lad a bath, bring him a hot supper, and a proper nightcap. She playfully prodded the tip of the boys nose and smiled. Then its off to bed with him. At this, the boy yawned and wearily nestled his head against his older brothers chest in complete trust; it was a gesture that tugged at Schendals heart. Schendal murmured to the servants who hovered nearby and turned Artavian to their gentle ministrations. Then, he turned to Amis who was preparing to leave. Stay and sup for a bit, he said as he followed her out. No, but thank you. Amis adjusted the chignon at the back of her head as she pulled on her helmet and goggles. I apologize for bringing your brother home in such a drenched state, she said as she straddled the hoverbike shed parked out front. But the carriage would have made flight more complicated than it already was. You truly are a Grand Duchess, Amis, Schendal said as she gunned the motor to life, its lights glowing and cutting through the rainy gloom. Just doing my job, sirrah, Amis grunted bluntly. Ive no patience for social climbers or gold diggers of any stripe. I know. Keep the lad safe, my friend. You have my word, Schendal assured her. Ill see you on Fairday morn, then, she said. Theres a Masters Conclave at Omarch Hill; someones proposing a new sea-ship franchise and I understand that there will be a divestiture of certain holdings. Lumleys?

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Perhaps. Amis saluted him jauntily, then sped off into the night. Bemused, Schendal reentered the manor and went up to his brothers chambers. Within, he found Artavian just out of his bath and curling up beneath the soft blue quilts. Nelchin himself was serving the boy rather than any of the maids or menservants and he placed the bed-tray at the foot of the bed as Artavian made himself comfortable. Here, laddie, let me prop you up right, Schendal said as he eased Artavian into a sitting position, propped up against piles of soft, feather-plumped pillows. Sip this slowly, Master Artie, Nelchin advised the boy as he handed him a steaming mug. Egg-flip! Artavian sighed happily as he accepted the mug. He drew a deep breath of the steam that wafted over the mug and smiled. Cooks added plenty of cinnamon. Do please thank her for me, Nelchin. Of course, sir. Nelchin bowed respectfully to the brothers and took his leave. When the majordomo had gone, Schendal handed something to his brother. Headmistress Cope has been apologizing profusely for the past two and a half days, he told his brother. It wasnt her fault, Artavian said between sips. I was already out of school grounds when those men grabbed me. He replaced the mug on the tray and drew a fingertip across the screen of the scribble-pad his brother handed to him, flickering it into glowing life. He sighed. Two days behind on class-work, he moaned. Its not like you cant catch up, Schendal said. Your class-master tells me youre already several units ahead of the rest of your class and the one ahead of yours, as well. Yes, but You neednt hurry, laddie. But I want to be done with school soon! Artavian declared petulantly. I want to help you out with the line, Schend! Youll be helping me out soon enough, Schendal assured him in soothing tones, patting his hands. By the time youre done with school, well have even bigger and faster air-ships. In the meantime He opened the cloche that covered his

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brothers supper. Get some of Cooks good tomato soup and that cheese sarnie into your system, clean your teeth, and head back to bed. Okay, Artavian yawned, scarcely covering his gaping mouth. But, Schend? Aye? Um Artavian blushed and meekly lowered his eyes. Would you think it babyish of me to ask you to leave the light on when I sleep? Schendal regarded his brother sympathetically and shook his head. If it had been me, he said, Id sleep with all the lights on. He rose and solemnly planted a kiss on the crown of the boys head. Rest up now, he admonished him. Ill see you in the morning. You act and sound like Papa now, Artavian chuckled. He regarded his older brother admiringly. I think you will be as great a Matre as he was. Thank you, Schendal replied with a faint but sheepish smile. But only time will tell. He walked over to the small panel mounted beside the door of the room and fiddled with some of the knobs to adjust the lighting within to a soft glow. Then, after taking a last glance at his brother now safely home and unharmed, praise on High! he sought his own chambers.

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