Death in Winter - Michael Jan Friedman [35]
“We have also made inroads into the hand weapons market,” Eborion went on. “Before the year is out we hope to be the second biggest supplier of such items, and a year later we should be at the top of the mountain.”
“Excellent,” said Claboros. He glanced at Eborion’s cousins as well. “All of you.”
The last three words got under Eborion’s skin. He wasn’t like his cousins in the least, and he hated being lumped together with them. But out of deference to Claboros, he kept his objections to himself.
The young ones’ reports made and accepted, the family’s real agenda got under way. It was at this time that they would identify threats to their accumulated wealth, as well as unexplored opportunities to expand it.
“As you know,” Claboros said soberly, “the praetor has to this point managed to put down any serious threats to her rule. However, Admiral Braeg seems to represent an exception.”
“The people love him,” Obrix observed.
Rijanus dismissed the remark with a gesture. “The people are fickle, brother. Today they love Braeg. Tomorrow they will love someone else.”
“I don’t think so,” Obrix insisted. “Braeg is a war hero, remember. And he comes from common stock.”
“And he has the loyalty of many of his old comrades,” said Cly’rana. “Enough, some believe, to hold his own in a civil war, if it comes to that.”
“It won’t,” Rijanus argued.
“But what if it does?” Claboros asked. “How will it affect us? In the long term? The short term? And what measures should we take to protect our assets?”
“In the short term, it will bolster our weapons business,” Eborion reported dutifully, though it was a rather obvious conclusion.
“In the longer term,” said Solops, “there may be food shortages. The price of our grain will go up.”
“But our security costs will go up as well,” Obrix noted. “There will be widespread looting, and the occasional mob of commoners who have gotten their hands on a weapons cache.”
“Yes,” said Rijanus, “civil conflicts always bring out the worst in the common people.”
“Perhaps we should speak with Admiral Braeg,” said Cly’rana, “to get a sense of his intentions. Surreptitiously, of course. We wouldn’t want Tal’aura to imagine our unmitigated support for her has diminished.”
“Our father dealt with a rebel once,” said Obrix. “And that fact preserved us when other families fell.”
Claboros made a face. “It would be a delicate maneuver. And a dangerous one.”
“It might be more dangerous to assume a posture of complacency,” said Cly’rana. “If we are precise, we can play both sides with a minimum of risk.”
“We need to find out what the other houses are doing,” Claboros told them. “We don’t want to inadvertently put ourselves at odds with any of our allies-or in league with any of our enemies.”
“Would Braeg even be receptive to an overture from one of the Hundred?” asked Obrix. “Sometimes these rebels are too idealistic to accept help from a noble house.”
“Or too stupid,” added Cly’rana. “But I don’t believe Braeg is guilty of either charge. If it pleases the council, I will personally see to the- “
“The praetor will deal with him,” Eborion announced, though it was customary for the family’s elders to resolve their differences of opinion before anyone else had a say.
It was as if he had dropped a pebble into a still mountain pool. Everyone turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise and-in the cases of Cly’rana and Rijanus, at least-amusement.
“How can you be so certain?” asked Claboros.
How indeed, Eborion thought, feeling a cold drop of perspiration make its way down his back.
He had resolved not to reveal his position in Tal’aura’s court until he knew it was perfectly secure. He had promised himself that he would keep his mouth shut. But he was sorely tempted now to tell his uncle everything he had done and where it had gotten him, and where it would get all of them if they accorded him the respect he was due.
No, he insisted inwardly. It was not the proper time. And as his uncles