The Invisible Hand

by Chris Northern

  "I think you judge your father harshly."

  He had never liked me. "I don't. We will set a trap for Silgar. I want him alive. I want to know who hired him. Was it someone out of Battling Plain as Duprane supposes, or someone closer to home? Someone who knows more than we do. Someone intent on keeping secrets."

  "Balaran?"

  They were closer now, the riders who I had thought allies but suddenly suspected. Were my soldiers loyal to me? I shook that thought off. Paranoia. They were Orlyn's men, my uncle’s men, effectively my father’s men. Probably. But Balaran had worked with them and amongst them for a time... perhaps a long time. Perhaps long enough to subvert them. Yet he was a sorcerer of the city, a member of the first or second class, I supposed, though I had not heard his name mentioned as I had others who moved in the higher political circles. He could not be an enemy of the city. But that didn't mean he was not my enemy, or my father’s. The thought made me wonder if his first loyalty was to the city itself or to the college that was his home. Paranoia.

  "Maybe Balaran. He is surely as hungry for wealth and advancement as any other of my people. Maybe someone else. But whoever is behind Silgar, we need to know. Think about it. We will talk later."

  Sapphire shrugged and stepped out of the shadows to meet the riders. "We can talk any time you like. I'm done with skulking."

  He walked away from me. After a few moments I joined him and together we moved on. After a short time we met with the riders on the plain before Darklake. As they came to a halt before us, two of my soldiers dismounted and led their horses forward for us.

  Balaran leaned out of the saddle and smiled. "Ah, Sapphire," he said. "I wondered what you had been doing."

  Sapphire gestured to his own blood soaked tunic and took the reins offered him. "Dancing with wolves," he said.

  "I have made an agreement with Duprane; in return for her assistance in certain matters I have guaranteed her autonomy. No one is to intrude upon her lands. Not for any reason."

  Balaran looked over our heads, gaze drifting over the woodland behind us. "I see," he said. "Well, perhaps that is for the best."

  "For the best or not, it is done," I said, picking out a soldier I recognised by name. "Geltan, I expect you to make it known." I took the offered reins and stepped into the stirrup. "Anyone who enters Duprane's lands, save at her leave, will become my enemy by breaking my word to her, and I will react without restraint."

  The man grinned. "Understood, Patron.

  I climbed into the saddle. The two soldiers who had given up their mounts doubled up behind their fellows. I turned my mount in a circle, nodded shortly to Balaran, who met my gaze without expression, and urged my mount into a walk. "Someone ride ahead and make sure a healer is awake and ready to tend Sapphire as soon as we arrive."

  Geltan called an order, and one man kicked his horse into a canter.

  Balaran moved to ride beside me. I tapped the stone in my forehead. "Can you remove this without killing me?"

  He frowned at me, glancing at the stone in my forehead before meeting my gaze. "Not without a sorcerer’s loupe; didn't I say?"

  Perhaps he had. My memory was not what it had been, and I was now enough myself, enough recovered from the blows to my head, that I was aware of it. I shrugged, trying not to show the fear I felt, the horror that I might have lost part of my mind, part of myself, that I might have become less than I was. Suddenly I snorted a half-laugh.

  "What?" Sapphire asked, sounding tired.

  I rubbed my hand over the lengthening stubble, which was the only thing covering my head. "Still not wearing a helm," I observed, wryly.

  "Aye," he said. "Some people never learn."

  "You aren't wearing one," I pointed out.

  He shrugged. "I am not you."

  #

  We gave up the horses at the new fort that was taking place around the ruined gate, and took time to have Vesan heal Sapphire’s wounds.

  "Move your things up to hall," I told the older healer as he worked. "I'm going to want you close."

  "You can bunk with me and take my room when I'm gone," Balaran offered.

  I noted the location of the guards and saw Sapphire doing likewise. He seemed content with the dispositions, and so was I. My gaze lingered on the temple and the guard there. I'd have to hold court again soon, cases were piling up. I would order the temple cleared, as I'd intended, and have it prepared as a courthouse and offices of government; the entrance was public, as it should be so that people had ready access to the administration. No sense magistrates existing if people couldn't talk to them. At some time I would have to appoint representatives of the people; officers whose sole duty it was to curb government, to stop it from doing things. There was no doubt in my mind that people would look to the magistrates to solve their problems. I let slip a sigh. There was so much to do, and so much that people had to understand before this place could become what I needed it to be.

  Sapphire glanced my way, hearing my sigh. "What?"

  "I was just wondering why people insist on thinking more government is any kind of solution."

  He gave a grunt, neither agreeing nor taking issue. "How can government solve your problem when it is government that is the problem," he quoted one of my ancestors.

  I gave a little grunt of surprise. "Chagan. You've read him?"

  He nodded. "Your father insisted. And we talked. Endless talk. I preferred the thoughts of Oledarun;" he quoted again. "Remember that bureaucracies are the worst expression of government, that they will feed and proliferate on their host like ticks and will grow ever fatter, sucking the blood from the people even unto the death of their host. And worse, that they will see no evil in it, for is not the bureaucracy the very point and purpose of the organisation?" He shrugged. "I proposed allowing the people to prosecute them whenever they felt like it for anything they cared to, and make the penalty for conviction death."

  I chuckled. "And what did he say?"

  "That the representatives of the people did well enough at prosecuting bureaucrats, and that removal from office and confiscation of all a man's wealth was sufficient penalty; that and whipping them through the streets to their exile, of course." He shrugged. "I said that if you put someone in a position of power over you and they act against your interests then they are your enemy and should be dealt with as such. Not to mention that you are a fool for letting someone have power over you; what do you expect them to do?"

  I knew what my father said. "And he said, a defeated enemy knows that you beat him his whole life and stands as a warning to others by living forever in your shadow; but a dead enemy does nothing to enhance your status."

  We crossed the courtyard and turned into the hall, Vesan and Balaran with us and two guards behind. As we entered the silent hall, I became aware of how tired I was. I needed my bed. I wondered if Anista would be in it. I wasn't just physically tired, I admitted to myself; I could use some comfort. No matter how difficult and complicated and hard life is, it always feels a little bit better when there is someone to hold in the night.

  As we split to head for our separate rooms I remembered something.

  "What have you done about Talin's murder?"

  Balaran stopped at his door and turned. "Everything I could. The sentinels are enhanced, sight and hearing as much as I can; also they have strength, speed and endurance as though for battle. I considered setting traps," he shrugged, "but anyone could trigger them and come to harm. It didn't seem like a good idea, on sober reflection."

  I gave it a moment’s thought, and had to agree. "And tomorrow?"

  Balaran glanced at Vesan, who answered. "I am a Battle Mage, Patron, as well as a healer. I can do what needs to be done in Balaran's absence."

  Vesan was an old man; maybe fifty; his voice calm but with a hint of steel in it despite his kindly face and eyes. I gave a nod, accepting his assurance. "Good enough, then."

  When I opened my door and stepped into the office, I found that Elendas was sitting at t
he table reading by the light of a dozen candles. He looked up as Sapphire and I entered then dropped his gaze back to the report in front of him.

  "What are you doing?"

  He glanced up again. "Learning," he said and looked back to the papers in front of him.

  "Get some sleep," I told him. "The morning is soon enough to do more; first thing," the thought just occurred to me, "seek out all the orphaned children in Darklake and bring them here to the hall." At least no more would be taken if they were all safe here.

  He opened his mouth to protest or to question me, but his gaze drifted past me at the same moment; he paled slightly at what he saw, then lowered his eyes and got to his feet. He came round the table and I moved aside to let him pass.

  He stopped in front of Sapphire, deliberately. "We haven't met," he said.

  "No, we haven't," Sapphire said.

  I headed for my bed chamber. The boy was instinctively afraid of Sapphire, which showed insight; and brave enough to challenge him, at least verbally. I decided I liked the boy.

  "I am Elendas, son of Anista and of Orlek, who was chieftain here before the patron came."

  "I know who you are," Sapphire said.

  "I am the patron's scribe, and privy to his counsel."

  I closed the door of my bedchamber on them. I didn't think Elendas would make much progress grilling Sapphire, but maybe the practice would be good for him. In any case, there was no need for me to listen. I had done enough for one day, and believed I had at least achieved one or two things of value.

  The bed was cold and empty. I climbed into it anyway, too tired to care, and slept almost at once.

  #

  I woke at once when my bedchamber door opened, tense for a moment before I recognised Sapphire as he stepped through the doorway with a bowl of steaming water. The false dawn lightened the room. The start of another day. I groaned and sat up in bed as he placed the water and a towel on the cupboard close by.

  "Where's Renik?"

  "I removed him. He is Anista's creature and not to be trusted."

  I sighed. "I knew that. Never mind," I swung out of bed and pulled on some trousers. "It doesn't matter now." Anista was an inept and obvious conspirator, the few people who were loyal to her were either old or women without much influence: letting Renik spy on me had made her feel like she was achieving something and cost me nothing. "Where is she?"

  He gestured. "She took the room Meran had been using."

  Right next door. Perfect.

  "I'll bring breakfast."

  "Don't forget to taste it first," I tried for irony but am not sure I succeeded.

  "I won't," he said, and left.

  Won't which? I wondered. Taste it or forget to? It didn't matter; as I saw things Anista's purposes would not be served by my removal. To begin with, I would be horribly avenged. I could only hope that she saw things as clearly as I.

  I washed and dressed in fresh clothes, tensing and relaxing muscle groups and stretching to warm up for the day. By the time I stepped into the office the table was laid with food. Elendas was there, seated at the table with Sapphire. Both were eating, Sapphire seemingly absorbed in the task and Elendas watching him, sometimes glancing at a sheaf of papers placed close by. I noticed that Sapphire had chosen the throne as his seat, and that Elendas had noticed it too. I figured it was because the chair had a high back and no one could slide a knife in his back while he ate; I guessed Elendas conceived a different reason. He turned and greeted me as I sat and picked up a spoon.

  "You made a deal with Duprane?"

  I gritted my teeth for a second, then spooned in some gruel and swallowed quickly, nodding. "I did."

  "She is your enemy."

  "Was," I said, spooning in another mouthful.

  "Do you plan to make allies of all your enemies?" The idea seemed to offend him.

  "Not all, no. I'm content to ignore some of those who no longer oppose me."

  "Speaking of which," Sapphire interjected, "I think we should visit Treleth this evening."

  "He is not your enemy," Elendas said.

  I ignored him as I tried to follow Sapphire's train of thought. "Late?" I asked, then turned to Elendas and answered him. "More a competitor; we compete for a greater share of the same things, but by our methods also increase the amount available for anyone who can grasp it; in the past he has committed what I consider unfriendly acts but no, we are not enemies."

  "About time he invited you to dinner, don't you think?" Sapphire said.

  Actually, it really was. He should have extended that kind of courtesy already; but then, so should I have, and I said so. "I'll send a messenger, one of the household, and plan to wander over to the trading post after dark."

  Sapphire nodded. "Good plan."

  "You two are up to something," Elendas said.

  Sapphire and I exchanged a glance. "When you guess something," I said, "it is sometimes wiser to keep your guesses to yourself."

  Sapphire did that thing with his lips that some people might think of as a smile. "Knowledge can also be a weapon."

  "That is what Caliran says, and that knowledge is power."

  Sapphire and I kept out eyes to ourselves. We both chose to ignore the comment, but I thought about it and I'm pretty damn sure Sapphire did, too. You do not think of knowledge being power unless you desire knowledge for the power it brings. You don't think in those terms unless you want power. So Caliran wasn't a bookish academic religious loon as I had pretty much supposed. Caliran wanted power, which meant that he was certainly taking action to acquire it. Caliran was a player. He was isolated, locked up in his library and no one had access to him. I worried at that for a moment. I had access to him, but that wasn't the exception that bothered me. Silgar might have the power to gain access; Caliran might have the power to sneak moments of freedom; I had no clear and certain idea of his capabilities. I had assumed that all his abilities centred around knowledge. But knowledge is power. Knowledge can be a weapon.

  "What are you thinking now?" Elendas said.

  "What are those papers?"

  "These?" He ran a thumb through them, flicking the pages. "I was thinking that we should fix prices to make things fairer and stabilize the economy. There are many who cannot afford to buy but if the prices were fixed they might better be able to afford them."

  I felt my eyes glazing over and deliberately blinked to stop it from happening. Randomly I picked up a glazed plate, spilling some bread onto the table. "So, what price should we fix this plate at?"

  He looked at me, sensing something of my mood but not understanding; he began flicking through the papers, looking for something. "I stayed up through the night thinking about this... I'm sure I have it here..."

  "We know, of course, where the clay comes from. Does the potter live at the source or does he have to move it? You have to keep clay damp when transporting it; hessian cloth and water carried in jars, fodder for the draft animal, upkeep of the wagon, the drover’s time and sometimes risk all add to the cost of the clay. The potter has to own premises and a wheel and maintain it, then there is the kiln to be made and maintained, charcoal is best to heat the kiln to fire the plate. How much is charcoal? Glazes must be made or purchased, mixed, the glaze applied and the plate fired again. Then the plate has to be transported to market, that's time and cost, plus market fees, and there is the potential for breakages. Do we know who makes the glaze? What is it made from? What is the extraction price, the cost per batch? Is it local or brought in?" Elendas had stopped looking through his papers, his gaze fixed on one page; but he wasn't seeing the page anymore. Now he was thinking. "What is the cost of fodder right now? How much does it take to feed a draft animal to travel the distance necessary to bring the clay, the charcoal, the glazes? Look at me." His gaze jumped to mine. "I have no idea of the cost of producing this plate. None whatsoever. And I do not need to know. The potter knows, or he’d better soon figure it out. It's his plate. He made it. He will bear all the burden and risk of i
ts making and presentation at market. It is for him to know its value and for others to decide if the value is a good investment of their money for their purposes. He is free to make plates, others are free to buy them or not. I have no idea what the value of this plate is. Should I enact a law to fix the price and get it wrong, what would happen? Say my guess is close, say I fix the price at a coin a dozen. Say that is exactly right, exactly what it costs to produce them. What will the potter do? Don't answer. Just go think about it." I tossed it to the floor, where it shattered. Elendas jumped just a faction. I ignored the fact. "While you are about your thinking, go find out how much a plate costs. Buy one if it seems a good price to you. Look elsewhere if it seems too much. Make your own damn plate of wood if you cannot afford one right now. But never ever raise the subject of price fixing in my presence again except to explain to me exactly why it is one of the most stupid and most pernicious impositions of the state into the affairs of others ever conceived by a human mind."

  Elendas was blushing. His mouth was tight, taking its cue from the rest of his face. I guessed he couldn't yet tell if he was angry, offended or merely embarrassed, or possibly all of the above and more. I didn't care much. I was too busy reining in my own temper and wondering when it had become so hard to do, when anger had become my default response to anything that happened.

  Silently, and with surprising dignity, he gathered his papers and left, closing the door softly behind him.

  "You were a little hard on the boy, don't you think?"

  "Price fixing?" I ground out the words. "You fix the price of wheat so that everyone gets bread regardless of the simple fact that the volume of wheat available remains the exactly the same and you expect what to happen in the real world?"

  "Hoarding, a thriving black market, supply drying up as farmers stop bothering to produce because it costs them more to produce than they can sell at market, almost immediate worsening of the problem you have tried to solve. Seed grain becomes too expensive to put in the ground and speculators will sell it for flour rather than see it planted. I know. Ultimately your people starve because you are too stupid or wilfully ignorant to realise that helping them is the worst thing you can do."