A burnished servitor brought in a tray of refreshments soon after that. It lowered it onto a marble-topped occasional table and trundled out.
'Solian tea!' Bequin squeaked, lifting the lid of a porcelain pot. 'And nafar biscuits!' she added with a smile, through the crumbs of the first one.
She poured me a cup and I stood by the fireplace, sipping it, striking an appropriately haughty pose.
The guild representative flew in through the doors a moment later. He was a small, spiky-haired man with flowing gowns and far too much jewellery. The Guild Sinesias brand mark was proudly displayed on his forehead.
He was, the brand indicated, property.
His name was Macheles.
'Sire Farchaval! Madam! Had I known you were visiting, I would have cancelled meets to be here. Forgive my tardiness!'
'I forgive it/ I said. 'But I'm afraid Lady Farchaval may be fast losing her patience/
Bequin yawned on cue.
'Oh, that is not good! Not good at all!' Macheles clapped his hands and servitors trundled in.
'Provide the lady with whatever she requests!' Macheles told them.
'Ummm… vorder leaves?' she said.
'At once!' Macheles instructed.
'And a plate of birri truffles? Sauteed in wine?'
I winced.
'At once! At once!' Macheles yelped, shushing the servitors out of the room.
I stepped forward and put down my cup. I'll be straight with you, sir. I represent grain merchants on Hesperus, a significant cartel of grain merchants.'
I handed him my holo-dent. It was fake, of course. Betancore and Aemos had run it up, using Aemos's profound knowledge in general and his knowledge of Hesperus – gleaned from interviews with Maxilla – in particular.
Macheles seemed impressed enough by my identification.
'What sort of… size cartel are we talking about, sire?'
'The entire western continent.'
'And you offer?'
I produced a sample tube from my pocket. A gene-fixed strain of cereal that could be easily managed by many of your landowners now that their workforce is depleted. It is indeed a wonder.'
The servitors reappeared, delivering Bequin's delicacies.
As she munched the soft-fleshed birri, she said, The other guilds are bidding for this product, mister. I do hope Guild Sinesias won't miss out.'
Macheles shook the sample tube and looked at it.
'Is this/ he said, his voice dropping, 'xenos cultured?'
'Would that be a problem?' I asked.
'No, sire! Not officially. The Inquisition is of course very tight about such things. But that is precisely why we offer these discreet interviews. The entire guild buildings are buffered against trackers, intercept beams and vox-thieves.'