Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [121]
“And where does my brother stand?”
His father breathed deeply. No answer. He sat limply in the chair of authority, where he ruled the family business. Was he asleep? Had he had another spell that rendered him unconscious?
“Father?”
“Your brother has abandoned the problem. It was too big to tackle, so he has taken a trip. Ostensibly to secure land in Brodgenican or Shalmar, but really to be out of harm’s way.”
“Now that is something I would never have expected.”
“Nor I.” His father sat up. “I should send for the king’s men and have them here to arrest Mernantottencat and his men.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
“It means that the whole city—the whole country—will know of my betrayal.”
“You were doing business with Baardackians before the war. It took time to realize they were using our ore to make weapons.”
He shook his head. “No, if I am to do the honorable thing, I shall not add dishonorable to the mix. I will not pretend that I did not know how low I had fallen.”
“Yes sir.”
“Call my secretary. I will send for the king’s men.”
“Yes sir. Are you expecting Mernantottencat?”
“No, but we shall make arrangements.”
With the decision made, the older man relaxed. His whole demeanor changed to one of patience.
His son breathed a sigh of relief and went to have the king’s men summoned. Bealomondore also asked for the secretary to bring a restorative tea and a light repast.
She objected. “Master Bealomondore never eats in his office and rarely takes tea during business hours.”
“My father’s energy has been tasked by our discussion.”
She looked into the office and spotted the dragons. “My word.” Her eyes popped. “Should I call for someone to catch and remove those beasts?”
“The dragons are with me. They stay.”
Giving him a disapproving glare, she nonetheless went off to do his bidding.
Bealomondore sat with his father and tried to start a conversation, asking about news of his sisters and mother and aunt. Master Bealomondore did not respond with more than a word or two, and the tumanhofer artist soon gave up. He decided to go by the house after he’d finished with the business at hand.
The tea, miniature cakes, and tiny sandwiches arrived. Master Bealomondore made disparaging remarks about the fancy display of delicacies but took a few bites. Evidently the food pleased him. He helped himself to more and ate heartily until only crumbs remained on the tray.
The secretary removed the remnants, and before she finished, four men walked in. She scurried to leave the room and close the door.
Bealomondore cringed. These men dressed well, but not in the uniforms of King Yellat’s men.
Master Bealomondore came to his feet, and Bealomondore took his cue from his father. He stood off to one side as the men approached the desk.
“Greetings, Master Bealomondore,” said the tumanhofer in a business suit. “We have good news. A ship has become available, and we will take possession of our purchase tomorrow.”
His father assumed a familiar posture. He leaned over his desk with fists planted firmly on the wood. “I will return your money. I cannot sell to your ‘company’ any longer. I must give the ore into the hands of my king.”
All pretense of congeniality dropped from Mernantottencat’s manner. “That is not a wise decision, sir. I believe we’ve discussed the repercussions of such a move before.”
“Even so, I refuse your business.”
Mernantottencat studied Master Bealomondore and then turned his gaze upon the other gentleman in the room. “And who is this?”
Bealomondore gave the slightest of nods, not anything like the respect that would be given an honored customer. “I am Graddapotmorphit Bealomondore, second son.”
“Have you been advising your father to take this foolish course?”
“I back his decision but did not make it for him.”
“This is entirely unfortunate.” Mernantottencat gestured to his henchmen and then toward the tumanhofer son. “Seize him.”
Bealomondore leaped backward and drew his sword. Instead of the whisper of metal against leather,