“More than that. They’ll hang Weith and the other man. Keithell will use it for all it’s worth. He was always a nasty bastard, and no flogging could change that. Begging your pardon, sir, but it might have been better if you’d executed him.”
With a wry expression, Charyn shook his head. “Then it would have come out that I killed the father, and my failure to work out a solution to the problem between the crafters and factors led to the son’s death. One way or another, it wouldn’t be good, but if I had executed Keithell, it would have been worse. I take it that the rewards are bringing in some information.”
“Some.”
“We’ll have to see where they lead.”
“They’ll lead to more men being hanged, sir, and that won’t be good.”
“Given all the destruction they’ve caused, what else can the justicers do?”
“What about exiling the young ones, the ones that are only boys, to the Montagnes D’Glace?”
“That hasn’t been done in hundreds of years.”
“Or indenture them to the navy if they’re under eighteen?”
“That might be possible. I’ll have to check with Marshal Vaelln.”
“That would be better for you and for them, Your Grace.”
“I’ll see what’s possible, Maertyl.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Once the captain left, Charyn immediately wrote a letter to Vaelln inquiring about penal indenture through naval service, then had Moencriff arrange for it to be sent. After that he headed down to the main level to find Norstan, whom he located in the dry produce storeroom.
“Sir? You could have sent for me.”
“I just had a question. Since I’m likely to be taking on a personal scrivener, as we discussed this morning, I forgot to ask if there is a decent room in the servants’ quarters?”
“There are several in both men’s and women’s spaces.”
“The scrivener will likely be a young man. There are several young people who come highly recommended by Maitre Alastar, but whichever one I choose will be one who doesn’t have the imaging talent of his parents.”
“You do need a scrivener, sir. Someone beholden to you and the Maitre would be good.”
Charyn nodded. “I’ll introduce you once I make a choice. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Later that afternoon, Charyn finally received the letter he’d been anticipating for some time. Again, he hoped his anticipation was warranted. He only waited long enough to be alone in his study before opening it and beginning to read.
Your Grace—
To begin with, I must thank you, on my own behalf and on behalf of my father, for the exquisite dinner you provided on Samedi. The refreshments and food were excellent, and you were indeed the perfect host, as even my father had to admit. I must offer my sincere regrets for the tardiness in expressing our appreciation, a tardiness that is especially unwarranted, given the grace and wit that you displayed throughout the evening and your graciously reserved, but quiet concerns for my feelings and situation.
I must also apologize for my delay in replying to the substance of your last two letters. I regret my lack of punctuality, but that delay was occasioned by my desire to consider fully the questions that you posed so thoughtfully and eloquently …
Most likely neither. Charyn smiled and kept reading.
You have, perhaps in not so many words, suggested that the word “evil” is often used to describe acts undertaken with deliberate intent to cause harm, as opposed to those acts undertaken for other purposes, even if such acts have indeed caused great harm. You cite the worker and the factor who each find the other’s acts to be evil in intent, because those acts have adverse impacts upon the other. Whether one calls the act “evil” or not does not change the result or remove the injury. That being so, what is the purpose of calling an act or individual evil? In this regard, I would be most interested in your further thoughts about the use of the word “evil” as an appellation.
As for your observation about improvements in means of production being shared between those who create the improved means and those whose labor employs those means, I would agree that such means should not decrease the pay of those who labor, or worsen their working conditions, but if all the cost and effort of improving the means of production is borne by the factor or High Holder, should not his share of those rewards be greater than that of the laborer, who has contributed no more than his previous efforts? In my most humble opinion, the role of the Rex should be limited to preventing harm, rather than ordering how such rewards might be shared. For a Rex to order how the revenues received from a factoring enterprise shall be divided would take rights from the factor or High Holder, and possibly even from the workers, and invest them in the Rex. Yet the Rex has provided none of the golds to pay and build improvements, nor any of the labor required to utilize them.
From what you have pointed out in the example of the Codex Legis imposed by the first Rex Regis, one of the duties of the Rex is to protect the people of Solidar. Thus, while there is an obligation to prevent harm to both those who labor and those who factor, for what reason should a Rex go beyond that duty?
As you, my most diligent correspondent, can see, I fear that your efforts to draw out my thoughts may only reveal my shortcomings in philosophy and law, whether that law be natural or crafted by the minds of men, for women are seldom involved in the formulation of legal codes.
I do look forward to your thoughts in reply and remain, with the warmest of regards,
Her signature remained full and formal.
Charyn reread the last two sentences, pleased by the single underlined word, yet wondering how many letters would be ended with warm or warmest of regards.
Then he went back over the letter.
For what reason should a Rex go beyond that duty? The clear implication was that he should not go beyond that duty, but that he did have a duty to protect the crafters and workers from practices that worsened their condition. Still … even if the factors did provide the means to increase rewards, they wouldn’t be able to realize those rewards without their workers, and that argued that at least a small portion of the increased rewards should go to the workers.
After close to a glass of scrawling down thoughts and ideas, he put those aside. She’d waited awhile to write him. There was no sense in rushing a reply.
28
Charyn wasn’t looking forward to reading the newssheets when he reached his study on Vendrei, and wanting to get the worst over first, he immediately picked up Tableta. The first part of the story on the capture of the two arsonists was reasonably factual and straightforward, but a later section bore out Maertyl’s concerns.
… the younger man, one Weith from the southwest riverside district, claimed he’d been forced into acting against “the selfish High Holders, factors, and Rex” because the Rex had flogged and fired his father for no reason at all except not wanting to pay him what he was worth and because the factors had fired Weith so they could hire boys for half the wage …
Does that sound like our caring factors and beloved Rex?
No, but it certainly sounds like Tableta. Charyn read through the rest of the scandal sheet, noting the story on the loss of another merchanter off the coast of Otelyrn, reported strictly factually, as was a report on the growing loss of crops in Antiago.
The Veritum report on the arson and apprehension was straightforward and factual, without any speculation, but Charyn wondered how many more acts against factorages would occur and whether those perpetrators would be caught … and how many others were occurring in other cities and towns.
Promptly at first glass, Sturdyn announced, “Wyllum D’Imagisle to see you.”
The young man who entered was rail-thin, several digits taller than Charyn, with black hair and wide-spaced brown eyes. He looked to be a year or two older than Bhayrn and wore dark brown trousers and a matching jacket over a pale tan linen shirt. He immediately inclined his head
. “Your Grace.”
Charyn motioned to the chairs. “Please take a seat, Wyllum.”
“Thank you, sir.” As the young man approached the table desk, he handed a sealed envelope to Charyn. “Maitre Alastar requested that I give this to you.”
“Thank you.” As Wyllum seated himself, Charyn opened the letter, which briefly described Wyllum and noted that he had assisted Maitre Thelia and others in scrivening tasks, and that he had been a solid and careful worker. “Maitre Alastar recommended you as qualified to serve as my personal scrivener. Why do you think he did so?”
“He must believe that I can meet your standards, sir.”
“Can you?”
“I don’t know, sir. I don’t know what your standards are. Maitre Alastar likely knows that far better than I do. I have a good hand. Maitre Thelia says that my hand is as good as that of any merchant clerk.”
“Do you know standard merchant hand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What other styles?”
“The only other one that I’ve trained in is Collegium formal, sir. With a little practice, I could likely learn others.”
Charyn turned and extracted several sheets of paper, then placed them on the desk in front of Wyllum, moving an inkwell and pen to where the young man could reach them. “If you would write a line in standard merchant hand and then write the same line in Collegium formal beneath it.”
Wyllum took the pen, frowned slightly, but immediately and quickly wrote two lines, replacing the pen in the holder.
Charyn read the lines. Each read: “This is a test for Rex Charyn.” The second line was similar to that used by the ministers and their clerks, if slightly more ornate. “Your hand is good, not that I would have expected otherwise. Why did you frown when you picked up the pen?”
“I would have cut the quill a little differently, sir. That was all.”
“Can you make a pen?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Besides being a scrivener for Maitre Thelia, what sort of work have you been doing at the Collegium?”
“I’ve acted as a duty messenger or runner. I can groom a horse, but if I stay around the stables too long, my eyes and nose get red and swollen, it’s hard to see, and I sneeze a lot.”
“Can you ride?”
“I can ride, but not well enough to be a courier. That was what Maitre Kaylet said.”
Charyn talked to Wyllum for almost a glass, asking questions and listening, before he said, “As my personal scrivener, you’d be required to live in the Chateau. You’d have your own room, but it’s not large. Would that be a problem?”
“No, sir. I have to share a chamber with Ashcryt now, and he snores.”
“To begin with, if you decide to be my personal scrivener, you get your livery, a room, meals, and a silver and a copper a week.”
“That seems fair, sir. More than a first, but less than a second.”
“And you’ll start on Lundi at seventh glass.”
“You’re really taking me on, Your Grace?”
“I am.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Charyn stood. “I’ll take you down and introduce you to Norstan the seneschal and to the guard captain. Norstan will take care of your room and livery.”
Once Wyllum was in Norstan’s hands and Charyn had returned to his study, he took a deep breath. Having a scrivener would definitely help, although it was likely to be almost more work for the first week or so, possibly longer, since it was clear that Wyllum didn’t have the range of experience that Howal had possessed.
Still … it would make his life easier.
Just after third glass, he received a reply to his inquiry from Marshal Vaelln.
Your Grace—
Thank you for your inquiry of yesterday.
The navy presently accepts some penal-indentured youths as sailor trainees, although most have come from coastal cities. Still, we do have supply barges that could transport such youths to Solis and would certainly accept youths receiving such sentences from justicers. Given the loss of sailors to the Jariolans, it would appear that such a punishment might well serve everyone’s interests.
Charyn took the letter, walked to Sanafryt’s study, and handed it to him.
The Minister of Justice read it, nodded, and said, “This might help everyone.”
“Then you’ll make sure that all the youthful prisoners found guilty of destruction of factors’ structures and goods receive such sentences in lieu of execution. If they’re not guilty, however, I don’t want this used as a means to create more sailors for Sea Marshal Tynan.”
“I’ll make that clear.”
With that matter in Sanafryt’s hands, Charyn decided to undertake drafting a response to Alyncya. That took a good glass before he was even halfway satisfied with what he had put to paper. He also wondered, absently, how differently Wyllum might cut the pens.
My dear Lady-heir Alyncya—
As always, your correspondence leaves me pondering questions that many would say are inquiries long-since settled by history, great philosophers, or even by the brute force of successful conquest. When questions involve living breathing people, each generation must find its own solutions while considering the accepted wisdom of the past and weighing it against the concerns and discoveries of the present.
You asked if there happened to be a special reason to call an act “evil,” and I would reply that an act perpetrated for the specific purpose of inflicting pain and suffering deserves that appellation.
You also made the point that when a High Holder or factor improves the means of production through new devices or procedure that he pays the costs, and therefore should reap the rewards. I would also grant that when such happens the factor or High Holder also bears the risk, for not all changes work out. Even if he did provide the means to increase rewards, he would be still unable to realize those rewards without the workers, and, for that reason, I would submit that at least a small portion of the increased rewards should go to the workers. Yet it appears that, in practice, not only do the workers not receive small increases, but in many cases, those who are necessitated to work in such manufactorages because their former livelihoods have been destroyed now earn far, far less than before, while those owning such manufactorages have increased their earnings multifold.
The results of this disparity are now appearing with regularity, and I doubt that the strict application of existing laws will reduce such violence, that is, unless a veritable army of civic patrollers invests itself in every area where large manufactorages exist. The cost of such patrollers must fall upon someone, and since the Treasury of Solidar has few reserves remaining at the moment, any such army of enforcers of the law will, of necessity, be paid by those with golds, either directly or through their tariffs. If they choose not to pay, then they will pay through continued events of destruction, which will likely fall more greatly on smaller factorages without the silvers to pay for adequate guards for their facilities. Would it not be better, and likely less costly, simply to pay workers slightly more?
Since I am neither factor nor High Holder, I may have missed some crucial aspect of this situation, and, if I have, I would honestly appreciate your enlightening me in instances where my logic or facts are inadequate.
There is, however, one area upon which I may be able to shed some light. According to the materials in the rather capacious archive of the Rex, the Codex Legis was written almost exclusively by two individuals, Vaelora Chayardyr and Quaeryt Rytersyn, with close to equal contributions to its content. What they created was not amended or changed in the lifetimes of either the first Rex Regis or his successor. Not only that, but she was the sister of the first Rex Regis and served for a number of years as his Minister of Administration. The archives show that the Codex Legis still remains largely as she and Quaeryt Rytersyn wrote it. He was an imager who married her and became the first Maitre of the Collegium Imago. Also interesting is the fact that Maitre Alyna, one of the two most powerful
imagers in Solidar, and perhaps the world, is Vaelora’s descendant.
With this historical note, I will close and await your reply.
Finally, he signed and sealed it, then gave it to Moencriff for dispatch.
29
On Solayi afternoon, Charyn, again attired as a guard undercaptain, rode to Imagisle with three guards, attended services at the anomen there, enjoyed conversation and refreshments at the Maitre’s dwelling afterward, and then rode back to the Chateau. It didn’t appear that anyone even gave him a second glance.
By Lundi morning, since he hadn’t heard anything from or about Chorister Saerlet, it also appeared that the chorister was still in hiding. Or disregarding your order to come to the Chateau. Just to determine exactly which might be the situation, Charyn asked Maertyl to send a few guards to the Anomen D’Rex to see if Saerlet had returned or left any word.
Wyllum appeared promptly at a quint before seventh glass on Lundi morning. “What would you like me to do?”
“First, set yourself up at the end of the conference table there. Then I’m going to give you several petitions to read, just so you have a little understanding of what you’ll be copying. Once you’ve read through them, then I’ll tell you what to write.” Charyn smiled. “Some of it will be rather dull, I fear.”
Charyn picked up the draft reply on the matter of the courier road bordering the property of High Holder Leomyk. “This is what Minister Sanafryt drafted. Most of it is agreeable to me, with the exception of the third paragraph. I want you to write down what I say, then I’ll look at it, possibly change it, and then you’ll rewrite the reply with the change.”
“Then what, sir?”
“Then it goes back to Minister Sanafryt so that he can make sure that what I changed is in accord with the law as laid out in the Codex Legis. If it is, he returns it, and I sign and seal it, and you make another copy for the archives. That’s so there’s a record of decisions.”
“Maitre Alastar does that, too.”
Endgames Page 25
