The King's Blood(134)

Geder glanced at Basrahip, who nodded. A twist of anxiety Geder hadn’t known he was carrying relaxed. He was glad she wasn’t avoiding him. And he hadn’t made an effort to seek her out, as full as everything had been on his arrival. There would be time. The thought of seeing her again left him feeling a little breathless.

“Tell her I’m sorry she wasn’t here,” Geder said, smiling. “And I’m very sorry that all of this happened when you were in Camnipol. Really, armed insurrection isn’t as common as it’s seemed these last couple of years.”

Paerin Clark laughed, and Daskellin followed along.

“That does bring me to the reason we came in the first place,” the banker said. “Antea is in a difficult transition. The passing of King Simeon followed by the war, and now all of this. Any one of these could shake a kingdom. All three coming as they have are certain to.”

“Yes, I’m told that the harvest’s going to be a bit thin this year,” Geder said. “But it won’t be a problem.”

“You sound very confident. That’s good. Antea will want a steady hand. In that regard, I’m here in part to—”

“Oh stop it,” Daskellin said, with a chuckle. “Clark’s here to say that his bank would want to put their toes in Camnipol. They don’t lend to the nobility. It’s policy, and likely a wise one. But they can bring in gold to lend to artisans and merchants. When I went to Northcoast, I thought we’d still be fighting a war when I got back.”

“Banks are at their best when there isn’t war,” Paerin Clark said. “Trade in peacetime is always more reliable and regular. And stabilizing.”

“Have you thought about opening a branch here?” Geder asked.

For the first time, Paerin Clark seemed at a loss.

“Yes, actually,” he said. “But the climate of court didn’t seem open to the idea.”

“I think you should,” Geder said. “Camnipol’s the center of the world. Antea’s the greatest empire there is. Seems silly that you shouldn’t be here. More trade, right?”

“You heard the part about not lending to nobles?” Daskellin said, and Geder waved the comment away.

“Lend to other people,” he said. “Then they’ll have enough money on hand that we can tax them.”

“Well, if that’s something we should consider,” the banker said, “perhaps we can talk about the challenges facing Antea in the coming years, and how we might be able to help.”

The meeting went longer than Geder had intended, the conversation ranging from the division of Asterilhold into new baronies and holdings under the control of Antean noble houses to the possibility of buying up grain supplies from Sarakal to ease the coming harvest to the new Antean border with Northcoast and the changing diplomatic position with King Tracian. In truth, Geder didn’t care deeply about any of it, but Paerin Clark knew Cithrin, and so Geder wanted the man to think well of him.

When at last the meeting ended, Geder made his farewells and walked back to his private rooms, Basrahip at his side.

“So?” Geder asked. “What do you think of him?”

“He means the things that he says,” Basrahip answered, “but he chooses what he says very carefully. He is a wise man, but not holy. We will be careful of him.”

“Good idea,” Geder said. “I agree.”

“There is another matter.”

“Kalliam,” Geder said.

“No. With him, nothing need be said. All his roads have ended. But in his fear of the coming justice, he made the servants of the goddess his targets. His hatred of us has taken its toll. We have lost many, my lord. With the new temples you are sworn to build in these cities that fall before you, I must ask that more of my brethren are permitted to join us.”

“How many more?”

“I would send for ten cohorts of ten,” Basrahip said.

“A hundred?” Geder said. “Is that all? Of course you can. If it’s a question of seeing them with food and shelter, I can send a hundred servants away tonight and not miss them tomorrow. In fact, why not take Kalliam’s mansion? I mean, it won’t be enough space, I don’t think, but there’s a poetry in it.”

They paused at a small fountain, water pouring over the shoulders of an ancient king and flowing down the half-sized noblemen and women at his feet, and then a miniature horde of carved-stone peasants. Political philosophy as decoration.

“I am grateful to you, Prince Geder.”

“You don’t need to be. I couldn’t do any of this with-out you.”