"Mother, the upside to this venture is going to make us ten times the size we are now. When we're finished, we'll be considered up there with the really big Houses. House Matrell will stand tall in Arrabar."

Bartimus looked to Grozier, waiting for some sort of signal that the man would like him to act. For the moment, though, Grozier seemed to be listening intently on the argument in front of him.

"No, Dregaul. I'm sorry. You are not going through with this. I am still the head of this household, and I still have final say on what business ventures House Matrell enters into. I truly am sorry." and she turned first to Anista, then to Grozier, "but the deal is off the table. House Matrell won't be a party to an invasion of another city for profit."

"I'm afraid it's a little too late for that," Grozier replied. "Armies are already hired, marching orders have already been given. Things are in motion now, and not so easily stopped."

Hetta Matrell drew herself up to her full height, then, straightening shoulders that had not always been stooped.

"Then you will just have to find the way to stop these 'things,' or else find other business partners to replace your lost revenue. But you cannot have ours."

"Mother! That's enough!" Dregaul seethed, rising from his chair to fully face Hetta. "You're past your prime, Mother, and I'm sorry to say it, but you no longer have the clarity of thought to see that this merger is important-important!-to our future as a player in Arrabar's most prestigious financial arenas. I think it's time you officially stepped down and handed the reins completely over to me, Mother."

Hetta actually began to laugh then, shaking her head. She had to put a hand out to the other woman for support at one point, until she could get her breath back. Her chuckles only served to anger Dregaul, though, who drew his lips tight and grimaced until her mirth had subsided.

"I should have yanked full control of House Matrell back from you a long time ago," the matriarch said at last. "I could see you had no good understanding of what your father and I had tried to build here, but I kept holding off, thinking perhaps you'd finally figure it out. Sadly, I was wrong."

"And what was that?" Dregaul asked hotly. "What were you and Father trying to build? A second-rate, copper-and-silver operation? Because that's what we got. Hesta, Obril, Xaphira, and I got to grow up being the laughingstock merchant clan. House Matrell was nothing. All the other Houses turned their noses up at us, led by the bastard of House Mestel. Our own kin wouldn't even give us the time of day!

"And now, when I have a chance to do something truly remarkable, to finally let House Matrell make a respected name for itself in all the right circles, you come along and try to ruin it. I don't understand you. Don't you want to leave your mark? Don't you want to go to your grave knowing House Matrell was bigger than when you started it?"

Hetta was shaking her head, obviously hurt and saddened by her son's words. But she stood firm.

"Clawing our way to the top of the heap was never what this family was about, and I'm sorry I didn't do a better job of teaching you that, my son. But the time for lessons is past. I hereby remove from you all responsibility regarding this family's business interests and resume full control of them myself." She half-turned to the pair of guards behind her. "If he will not get up from that table quietly, remove him by force and lock him in the cell in the basement. Then come see me.

"As for the rest of you, I'm sorry it has come to this. I must respectfully ask you to take the remainder of your meeting somewhere else."

With that, Hetta turned and began to exit.

The two guards didn't move.

"I'm sorry, Madam Matrell, but it isn't quite going to work out like that," one of them said. "Please, go back into the room."

"Well, I'm glad we finally got a chance to gather for this meeting," one of the thugs surrounding Kovrim said with a laugh. "I've been waiting for this for quite a while." He motioned toward Vambran and Xaphira. "Come on over. Join our little party."

Vambran approached cautiously, freeing his crossbow from the hook on his belt and cocking it in one smooth motion. Xaphira fanned out to the opposite side of the alley, staying even with Vambran but not too close, giving them both room to fight.

"Oh, now, that's not very sociable," the man said in response to Vambran loading his weapon. "You really might want to rethink that. Someone could get hurt."

Vambran could see then that his uncle was unarmed, standing in the midst of the men with his arms stretched out to his sides, as though he had already surrendered to them.

"Uncle Kovrim? You all right?"

Before the priest could answer, the man who'd been acting as spokesman for the rest of the group responded, "Of course he's all right. We haven't harmed a hair on his balding head. Yet." The thug turned and leveled his crossbow at Vambran. "But that might change very soon, if you don't see reason and lay down your weapon."

Vambran halted his advance and studied his opponent, considering. If he gave in to the demand, Kovrim would almost certainly die. The men had no doubt been ordered to hunt him down and prevent him from sharing the information he had with anyone else. But if the lieutenant and his aunt decided to fight it out with them, Kovrim would likely fall within the first moments of the battle anyway. Either choice seemed like a bad proposition for the mercenary's mentor. Vambran chose to stall.

"It's too late," he said, hoping to bluff the thug. "I already know the news. Even as we speak, the alliance of the three Houses is being dissolved. The fight is already over; you just don't know it yet."

The lead thug laughed and said, "That's a pretty good story, my friend, but sadly, I recognize a lie when I hear one. I would know if something was going wrong back at your estate. I'd have heard about such events as quickly as they occurred."

Vambran knew it was a possibility that the fellow was in some sort of magical communication with his employers, but he'd hoped for the outside chance that he wasn't. Still, Vambran refused to diminish any of his family's chances by acting hastily.

"Maybe your lord just can't think straight," said Vambran. "Maybe he got caught so unaware that he never had the chance to warn you."

"Sort of like how I caught you and your grandmother unaware earlier tonight?" the thug responded.

Vambran's eyes narrowed, and his jaw jutted out in anger.

"You," was all he said.

"Me," the thug replied. "It's so easy to assassinate someone when you have the house guards on your side. They just let me through, easy as you please."

Vambran raised his crossbow, sighting down it at the thug, who raised his eyebrows.

"Careful, boy, you might accidentally shoot someone important," the thug said, smiling knowingly. "Wouldn't want that to happen again, would we?"

Off to his right, the lieutenant heard Xaphira gasp softly, but then she said, "Vambran, don't be a fool."

The mercenary only stood there, looking past the fletching of the bolt at the thug who had shot his grandmother, wondering how the man before him might know his secret. He could barely restrain himself from firing.

"You think you can hit me somewhere that will keep me from shooting back?" The thug asked, aiming his own crossbow. "We just might kill each other, but then, where would that leave your uncle?"

"I will see your blood on the cobblestones tonight, one way or another," Vambran said menacingly, but he lowered the weapon.

Pulling the bolt free, he set the crossbow itself down on the street and shoved it away with his foot. Then he slipped his sword free and let it fall, too. Finally, with the bolt in his hand, he took a few steps closer to the thug, his arms out to his sides, showing that he was unarmed.