The Fall of Clan G’ladheon
K arigan’s staff clattered to the floor. She backed away. “What? What did you say?”
“I’m sorry, girl, to be the one to tell you,” Sutton G’ladheon said.
“It—it can’t be true. She was doing so much better.”
“It’s true enough,” he replied. “Her heart was weak from her earlier illness. It gave out. Here is the letter Brini wrote you.” He extended a paper to her pressed with the G’ladheon seal.
She took the letter with a trembling hand. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Aunt Brini explained within how Aunt Stace’s heart gave out, how she’d spent the evening before baking muffins and laughing with her sisters over a game of Knights.
For the most part, Aunt Brini wrote, we were able to insulate her from the clan’s financial difficulties to keep her as untroubled as possible. She had a happy life and loved you very much. In the end she did not suffer and transitioned peacefully in her sleep.
Aunt Brini went on to say they’d have a full ceremony in the spring for clan members and friends. Aunt Stace’s body would be stored in the icehouse, Karigan knew, until the ground thawed. She’d be interred in the family plot.
Her tears smudged the letter’s ink and she looked up unseeing and numb.
She thumped into a chair Robert must have moved to receive her.
Aunt Stace, eldest sister to her father and other aunts, the mother who stepped in when Kariny had died.
Sometimes stern, but always fair, she was not only Karigan’s foundation, but the heart of the family.
“I can’t believe it.” Her body quaked with sobs she tried to choke back.
Robert placed his hand on her shoulder. Sutton just stood there shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking very uncomfortable.
“I should leave, I guess,” he said.
Karigan did not stop him. As far as she was concerned, they might share blood, but he was estranged from her family, and a stranger.
She returned back into her own office, swallowing back tears. An image returned to her of Aunt Stace standing in the field of the G’ladheon estate. Kari, she had said, be careful, you could poke out an eye. And then she had made Karigan promise to be careful. This brought on a new freshet of tears.
“Damn the gods,” she said. “Damn Westrion.” How could he do this to her when she had risked so much as his avatar? How could he take Aunt Stace from her? Was this his repayment? “WHY!” she cried, but she was answered only by silence. An icy darkness spread through her.
“Madam?” Robert stood hesitantly in the doorway.
She grabbed her gloves off her desk. “I’m leaving for the rest of the day.”
“That is probably wise. Where—?”
She swept past him and stepped out into the cold.
· · ·
Karigan left Aspen tethered to the hitching post in front of the guild house and ran up the steps, darkness clinging to her like a haze.
She embraced it, embraced it and the bitter cold that accompanied it.
She itched for a confrontation. Itched to take action in her helplessness.
Itched to quench her grief in rage. A part of her noted she was not behaving rationally.
She did not care. Her shadow self urged her on.
She carried her staff at walking cane length. No one would know it was anything more. She was not attired in her fancy gown to show off her nonexistent fortune, and she didn’t care.
She did show her clan ring to the doorman and he let her in without question. She strode across the marble atrium, her footsteps echoing in the hard empty space.
Another doorman at the entryway to the triumvirate’s chamber halted her and gazed at her askance, not recognizing her in such unadorned garb.
She showed him her ring. “I am Sub-chief Karigan G’ladheon of Clan G’ladheon.” Somehow, she managed to speak without a quavering voice.
“Ah,” he said. “You’ve been on the list for weeks, and you’re just in time. They are about to break for the day.”
He let her into the chamber, which boasted deep red pile carpets and statues and portraits of past guild masters and leading members as though they were great heroes of the realm.
Few merchants lingered within chatting among themselves in the audience section of the chamber.
The guild masters sat at the high desk upon a dais, which forced all who came before them to crane their necks.
All three were present and engaged in seemingly casual conversation. One of them was—
Celesta Suttley! The horror of that realization almost overcame the darkness Karigan had wrapped herself in.
How in the world had Celesta become a guild master?
Bribes, Karigan thought. Bribes, lies, and political maneuvers to push her opponents out of the way.
As her surprise ebbed, the realization of what this meant for her clan sank in.
Cold rage wrapped her in yet another layer of darkness.
Six footmen who were actually lightly armed guards stood at attention along the walls. She gauged their readiness. Each was armed with a truncheon. Most appeared bored and half asleep. At least two looked like they couldn’t ascend a flight of stairs much less win a fight.
Kari, be careful. You could poke out an eye.
She snarled back a sob and strode up to the dais and waited to be acknowledged.
“Well, well,” Celesta said. “Clan G’ladheon has finally deigned to answer our summons.”
“Sub-chief,” said Master Cleaven, who sat in the center, “we’ve been expecting you for weeks.”
“I was indisposed.” Ice rimed her words.
“Any news of your father’s return?” Master Highlake, the third member of the triumvirate, asked.
“No,” she said, without even a “Your Grace.” Some merchants liked to fashion themselves as a sort of noble class.
Her clipped answers were blatantly discourteous.
“Any business you have with Clan G’ladheon must come through me as before.
” She turned her attention to Celesta. All three guild masters wore extravagant fur capes and gold chains of office.
“That chain looks heavy around your neck, Celesta,” she said. “Clan Suttley’s fortunes have changed.”
“Yes,” Celesta said with a smile that was no smile. “Master Higgins fell down a flight of stairs to his death and needed to be replaced. The guild’s body found me a superior candidate than all others and I was voted in.”
Karigan wondered about Master Higgins’ fall. “That is unfortunate.” She did not clarify which of Celesta’s statements she found “unfortunate.”
“To be voted in as a member of the governing body of the guild,” Celesta continued, “is an honor I could only dream of. Such a position offers many benefits of which you will never know. And fortunately, the rumors you threw at me about banning Suttley tobacco last time we met were malicious and completely false.”
“I doubt it,” Karigan muttered, recalling their confrontation on the guild house steps the same day the Turvals had attempted to abduct her.
“Sub-chief,” Master Cleaven said, “your comportment leaves much to be desired.”
Celesta motioned an attendant to her side and whispered into his ear. He trotted from the chamber on some errand.
“My apologies, Your Grace,” Karigan said, “that you find my comportment lacking, but if I am guessing right, it little matters at this point.”
Master Cleaven glowered at her. “Your attitude does not serve your clan well, nor does it alleviate the burden of your present circumstances.”
Karigan shrugged, the cold darkness making her reckless.
Moments later, the attendant Celesta had sent away returned bearing a parchment and passed it to her.
“We have been quite displeased by Clan G’ladheon’s inability to pay its annual tithe to the guild,” Master Cleaven said, “and I understand our fellow guild houses in other districts feel likewise. Clan G’ladheon has further dishonored us by leaving its debts uncompensated, which does not speak well of the guild as a whole.
It is a taint upon all members that diminishes the trust and respect of the populace that seeks to conduct business with us.
” He shook his head. “Clan G’ladheon has fallen hard from its once grand perch. ”
His sorrowful expression was not at all genuine. He, and many others, and especially Celesta, were likely celebrating the “fall” of Clan G’ladheon. Greed and envy were in plentiful supply in the merchants guild.
Celesta held up the parchment. “This is Clan G’ladheon’s certification in the Sacor City District of the Merchants Guild.
” She grinned, then tore it in half. “I have it on good authority our fellow districts will do the same. You’ll be pushing a hand cart in the poorest neighborhoods to sell your trinkets. ”
It was no insult. It was how her father had gotten started, and he built it into a successful organization. They might no longer push hand carts, but river cogs, ships, and wagons now carried their goods to far distant lands.
“Is that all?” she asked in a dangerously soft voice.
Celesta leaned forward over the desk. “No. We are going to formally petition the clan chartering commission to dissolve your clanship.” She held up a second document. “They will examine your clan’s many failures.”
“You can’t do that,” Karigan said. The first blow she had expected. The second she had not. “Queen Isen herself signed our charter.”
“Oh, we absolutely can, and we will.”
The other two masters nodded in agreement. Dissolving the clan...It would mean everything her father had ever accomplished would be washed away, and all his connections and support would shun them.
Not on my watch, she thought. Not when she had just heard Aunt Stace had died, she who had been integral to helping build the clan, all the sacrifices she and her sisters had made to support their brother.
The dark draped Karigan like a cloak. Without a second thought, she bounded up onto the dais and knocked Celesta’s hand onto the desk with the bonewood and trapped it there beneath the metal handle.
Celesta screamed in surprise, and Karigan snatched the document.
She tore it to pieces as Cleaven attempted to soothe Celesta.
“Sub-chief!” Master Highlake said. “This is beyond unacceptable.”
Celesta cradled her hand to her chest. “You will answer for this, G’ladheon.”
“Indeed,” Cleaven said. “Not only will we write up a new document, but you will be escorted to the constabulary for this assault. And,” he added, “we will ensure any and all charges lock you away.”
“You would jail one of the king’s own messengers?” she demanded.
“I believe,” Celesta replied, “even the king’s own messengers are bound by king’s law.”
In other words, Karigan thought, the constabulary would be bribed to do as the guild masters wished. She glanced about and saw that the attendants were closing in around her. The confrontation she had been itching for was coming to pass.
She glanced once more at Celesta. “Your time will come.”
Celesta must have heard the danger in Karigan’s voice for fear flickered across her features. She stared at Karigan as if she didn’t recognize her.
Karigan whipped around, extending her cane to a staff even as she swept it toward the first attendant. The dark pumped through her veins and overtook her.