Rex Regis

by Jr. L. E. Modesitt

  “But it might have,” said Quaeryt.

  “You can torture yourself about that forever, dearest, and it won’t change anything.”

  “I know that. You know that. Skarpa would probably even have said that. But it doesn’t make it right.”

  “Will telling anyone but me make things better? Here? Or in Antiago?”

  He shook his head. “It’s just that I owe so much to Skarpa.”

  “He owed much to you.”

  “I put him in danger.”

  “He would have been in danger without you, and he might well have died in battle without everything you did. It’s not as though you gave an order that caused his death. And you weren’t the only one, dearest. Kharllon made it impossible for the imagers to protect Skarpa. Don’t forget that.”

  Quaeryt just stood there for a moment. “That’s true … but he wouldn’t have needed protection—”

  “Are you sure of that? He was still the submarshal. In the minds of all the southern High Holders, he was the one responsible. Also in the minds of all the surviving Shahibs of Antiago.”

  Quaeryt said nothing.

  Vaelora stepped forward and put her arms around Quaeryt. “You’re upset. You made a mistake. It was such a small mistake. How could you have known? But he was your friend, and you feel like all the blame is on you. I understand.”

  For a time, neither spoke.

  Finally, Quaeryt stepped back. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore right now.”

  Vaelora nodded, then asked, “Do you think that it’s wise to set up two separate locations for your Collegium?”

  “I thought I’d prefer one location, but what happened with Skarpa made me think differently. The imagers will always be vulnerable if they and those who lead them are in one place.”

  “And Voltyr is the best one to lead the imagers in Antiago. That was what you had in mind, wasn’t it?”

  “I did, but I was thinking of months, perhaps a year, when I did. Now…” Quaeryt shrugged, then shook his head. “Oh … with what happened to Skarpa, I forgot to tell you. Gauswn showed up this afternoon. Straesyr sent him and four student imagers.”

  “That’s just the beginning,” said Vaelora.

  Quaeryt hoped so, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Skarpa.

  21

  Quaeryt did not sleep well on Mardi night, disturbed as he was by vague nightmares, and one in which he tried to tell the assistant steward that he was not a submarshal even as the winds kept blowing his words away. That was followed by another in which a tree was falling on Vaelora, and he couldn’t reach her … or do anything at all as she immediately gave birth to another daughter who died as he tried to hold her. He much rather would have had any of the dreams in which Erion appeared and admonished him, he reflected, as he dressed on Meredi morning.

  He and Vaelora hurried through breakfast. Then each copied one of the dispatches Quaeryt had received. Next, Quaeryt wrote dispatches to Alazyn, and then to Voltyr, both confirming their actions. After that, Quaeryt made his way to Bhayar’s study, while Vaelora headed down to finish setting up the studies for the supply ministry.

  The guard didn’t finish announcing Quaeryt before Bhayar called, “Send him in!”

  Quaeryt immediately crossed the room and handed the copies to Bhayar, who, as usual, was standing beside his writing desk. “Here are the copies you requested.”

  “Thank you.”

  “There’s one thing I forgot to tell you yesterday. I’m sorry, but it skipped my mind with everything about Skarpa’s murder. That upset me more than I realized.”

  Bhayar nodded, but remained standing behind the desk, waiting.

  “Chorister Gauswn, I may have mentioned him before. He was a captain in Tilbor, and when his term was up, he left to become a chorister at the scholarium. He arrived at headquarters yesterday with four young imager students. Straesyr sent them here.”

  “Straesyr sent him and four imagers?” asked Bhayar. “Four?”

  “He sent him with the two student imagers I knew about when I left Tilbor. I didn’t finish learning where Gauswn picked up the other two because I got the dispatches about Skarpa just after he arrived at headquarters. I made quick arrangements for them and then rode to see you as quickly as I could.”

  “It appears that fate and every officer I trust wants you to lead the imagers and build that Collegium,” said Bhayar dryly.

  “I had no idea that Straesyr felt that way, sir.”

  “I assume he sent a dispatch or letter?”

  “Oh … yes, sir.” Quaeryt extracted the governor’s letter from his uniform and extended it to Bhayar, who set the copied dispatches on his desk before accepting and beginning to read the short letter from Straesyr.

  Bhayar stopped reading and looked at Quaeryt, then said, “Straesyr saw what you had in mind. Otherwise he wouldn’t have written, ‘you will certainly need the imagers, as will Lord Bhayar, and any that Gauswn can find along the way.’ Would he?”

  “That might have been because Gauswn wrote me while we were advancing up the Aluse, and I wrote Gauswn back, and advised him to consult with the governor if he had continuing difficulties.”

  “And what about his concluding lines, where he requests that you ‘try not to destroy more than necessary in seeking your aims’?”

  “He is a perceptive man. I never told him what I hoped for the imagers.”

  “He’s also a good governor.” Bhayar handed back the letter. “I don’t need a copy of that one.” He smiled briefly. “Is there anything else?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. We’ve had enough news for now. I would like you and Vaelora to join me for dinner this evening. I’ve invited some of the councilors from Variana and a few High Holders and factors, and their wives. When and if appropriate, I thought you might tell them about the Collegium and how it will improve that isle of piers.”

  “We can do that. I’d thought that we might be able to build a bridge to the isle from the west shore today. Once we have more work done, when it seems feasible, we’ll build one to Variana itself.”

  “You’d mentioned a change in names for the city. I’d like you to think about that.” Bhayar held up his hand. “Don’t say a word. That must wait, but the name for the city must be carefully considered. City names last a long time.”

  For successful rulers. “And the name of the lands you hold?”

  “I have to admit that your suggestion of ‘Solidar’ does sound good, but not until Khel agrees to terms … one way or another.” Bhayar’s face turned stern. “That’s another reason why I’ve agreed to your Collegium. It won’t hurt to have those pigheaded Khellan councilors realize that you’re building a force that could make what you did to Liantiago and Variana look small.”

  “I’d hope that building it will make its use unnecessary.”

  Bhayar’s expression softened. “So would I … but there are those who fail to understand.”

  “If the matter comes up in dealing with Khel,” Quaeryt suggested deferentially, “it might not hurt to mention that part of the Collegium is being built up in Westisle. It’s much closer, especially by sea.”

  “Good point … even if it does serve your aims.” Bhayar shook his head. “Your aims somehow seem meshed with mine.”

  “Several of those with farsight have told me that neither of us will succeed if we both do not.”

  “I can guess who one of those was. The others?”

  “An old Pharsi woman in Extela that Vaelora rescued from the mob when we first arrived, and one of the Eleni in Khel.”

  “Eleni?”

  “One of the outland wise women and seers we encountered west of Saendeol. There are two kinds of farseers in Khel. The Eherelani are part of the councils and the towns; the Eleni live isolated lives away from the cities and towns. Most of them are women.” But not all, because they didn’t hesitate to claim you were Eherelani after the Hall of the Heavens, and that means there have been other men who are or
were.

  “What else did they tell you?”

  “That Vaelora and I would fail if we attempted to take credit or any power other than that which you bestowed upon us, and that neither of us could or should ever be rulers.” That was true enough, reflected Quaeryt, if not phrased in the way the Eleni had.

  “And you believed them?”

  Quaeryt laughed softly. “I knew that before anyone told me anything. So did Vaelora.”

  “She’s known too much before she was told.”

  “She told me she knew I would be in her future … and it frightened her for years.”

  “She was wise young … wise but willful … as I suspect you have discovered.” Bhayar shook his head. “You need to go before Deucalon arrives.”

  “He’s still furious, I assume.”

  “He’ll be coldly angry for the rest of his days about how you’ve maneuvered around him. He can live with it.”

  Or die if he can’t. Friendly as Bhayar was, Quaeryt had no illusions about the man he had known for half his life.

  “We’ll see what we can do with the roads today.” Quaeryt inclined his head, then turned and left the study, making his way down and out to the stables behind the chateau.

  Zhelan, Calkoran, and Khaern were waiting when Quaeryt walked to the study at headquarters that had become his, if largely by default. Together, they went over the plans for the day. Then, while Zhelan mustered the imager undercaptains, Quaeryt met with Gauswn.

  “How are your students?” asked Quaeryt.

  “They’re tired.” Gauswn smiled. “We had to keep up with the dispatch riders, and they weren’t used to it at first.”

  “We’ll be heading out to work on roads and a bridge. I think they should see what imagers can do. It won’t be hard riding, and I’ve arranged for other mounts for them and you.”

  “Roads … bridges?” Gauswn raised his eyebrows.

  “Some of the imagers can image stone structures, paving…”

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. That’s why I didn’t want you making me into something I’m not … or claiming that the Nameless protected me.”

  Gauswn smiled. “But the Nameless granted you the ability, and you worked to make it so you could. I’ve found that is the way the Nameless most often works.”

  Even though Quaeryt had his doubts about the Nameless, he couldn’t dispute Gauswn’s view of the world. He also could see that Gauswn had matured a great deal over the past two years. Haven’t the past two years changed all of us? Or most of us? He had his doubts about how beneficial the changes had been among some of the most senior officers.

  With one thing and another, two quints passed before Quaeryt and the imagers, along with Gauswn and his students, and the fourth company of Khaern’s third battalion, rode south from headquarters toward the Chateau Regis and the remaining section of the south road that needed rebuilding.

  By slightly after noon, the roadwork was complete to Quaeryt’s satisfaction, and the imagers continued eastward until they reached the west river road. From there they rode north, past dilapidated shops and warehouses, many of them empty, until they came to a point slightly north of the midpoint of the isle, a location across from one of the higher parts of land on the isle. There Quaeryt called a halt and ordered a rest for the company and the imagers.

  Two quints later, Quaeryt assembled the imager undercaptains on the riverbank facing the isle of piers. “We’re going to need a solid bridge across here, wide enough for two wagons and high enough above the water for flatboats and small sailing craft to pass under.”

  “How much clearance between the water and the bottom of the bridge?” asked Horan.

  “Five yards at the current water level,” replied Quaeryt. “The river’s running a good three-four yards above normal, I’d judge. You’ve got the plans Lhandor drew?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Just the basic bridge structure, Horan. Khalis will add the side walls and the approach causeways.”

  Quaeryt watched as the square-bearded and slightly graying imager looked at the plans, then at the river and the riverbank. Finally, Horan squared himself in the saddle and concentrated.

  White mist swirled everywhere, but in the middle of the fog and mist was a gray stone structure spanning the river with a single massive pier in the middle, the two spans arched down but slightly on each side, only enough so that rain or melting snow would drain. A slight film of frost coated the stone, but quickly vanished. The layer of ice on the water beneath the span broke up into chunks that the current soon carried downstream and out of sight.

  Once the mist and ice vanished, Quaeryt turned to Khalis. “The causeway down to the river road, if you would. Then the side walls. We’ll save the causeway on the isle side for when we start work there.”

  In moments Khalis had imaged the walls and causeway in place, with some icy fog and mist.

  When that had cleared, Quaeryt said, “Lhandor … can you image iron grillwork across the bridge so that brigands can’t take wagons over it and steal everything that’s left on the isle? Even without a causeway on the isle side, they’d try.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After the grillwork was in place, and the imagers had some time to rest, Quaeryt announced, “Now we’re going to ride up the river road to a point opposite the north end of the isle.”

  Given the uneven and neglected paving stones of the west river road, which explained why the merchant had suggested the need for repairs, it took almost two quints to reach a slight spur of riverbank a hundred yards north of the tip of the isle. From there, Quaeryt surveyed the rocky escarpments that suggested why the isle had survived years of flowing water and riverine abuse.

  Finally, he spoke. “We need a gray granite wall deep into the riverbed and rising a good three yards above the stone ledges there. In time, we’ll raise the entire isle close to that height. That will keep it above the spring floods.” Quaeryt glanced back at the imager undercaptains, Elsior, and the student imagers. All of the undercaptains looked exhausted, their uniforms showing sweat.

  He turned back to the isle and concentrated, drawing all the heat and power he could from the River Aluse.

  A blast of wintry air rocked Quaeryt and all the others back in their saddles, and tiny crystals of ice rained down on them. A thick white fog covered the entire river from the water to a good ten yards up, totally obscuring the isle … and the view of Variana to the east. Quaeryt’s head throbbed, and flashes of light flared across his eyes. He swayed in the saddle for a moment, then reached for the water bottle filled with lager. After several swallows, the throbbing subsided somewhat, and the light flashes became less frequent.

  The gentle breeze out of the northwest slowly began to disperse the fog into fragments that revealed that the entire river was covered in ice from at least two hundred yards north of where the imagers had reined up to somewhere south of the fog. In addition, the north end of the isle, a distance of well over half a mille, was sheathed in what appeared to be white stone. As the imagers watched and the breeze and warm spring sun further shredded and evaporated the mist, the thin white ice that covered the stone began to crack and shatter revealing a stone battlement similar to the prow of a vessel, a structure that covered the entire end of the isle and a good hundred yards south on each side.

  Quaeryt took another long swallow of lager from his water bottle, then corked it and replaced it in its holder. “I think that’s enough for today.” He raised his voice, image-projecting it slightly. “Captain! We’ll head back to headquarters!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Quaeryt flicked the reins of the black gelding and guided him around north toward the north bridge—and the north road.

  Gauswn eased his mount up toward Quaeryt. “If I might ride with you, sir?”

  “As you wish.” Quaeryt managed a smile, despite the continuing headache. You shouldn’t have let your impatience get the better of you. He took another swallow
from the water bottle.

  “You didn’t exactly explain why you’re changing that isle,” ventured Gauswn.

  “I’m sorry. We’ve talked it over so much … I didn’t think. Lord Bhayar has agreed that we can build a Collegium—a scholarium for imagers—on the isle.”

  “You mentioned the school, but not where.”

  “The isle is one place. There may be another in Antiago.” Quaeryt went on to explain the general idea behind the Collegium.

  When they finally reined up in the headquarters’ rear courtyard, Gauswn looked to Quaeryt. “Lydar will never be the same.”

  “That may be, but would we have wanted it the way it was heading?”

  Gauswn shook his head. “I talked to some of the captains last night, and a major or two. They all say you’re as powerful as any submarshal or marshal. Far more powerful from what I saw this afternoon. The students haven’t said a word. Usually, I have to remind them not to chatter.”

  “That’s not because of what I did. They were quiet before that.”

  “You’re right. They never dreamed of what they saw today.”

  Quaeryt sighed. “Having them accompany us may have been a mistake. If you’d gather them up after the mounts are taken care of and bring them to the study … I’d better talk to them. Immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m not trying to be commanding, Gauswn. If any of them try a fraction of what they saw, it could kill them. I need to get that across before they do.”

  Gauswn smiled sadly. “It’s hard to believe you’re only a commander.”

  “That’s the highest rank I should ever hold, and I’ll be happy when I can relinquish it.”

  The chorister nodded slowly. “I can see that. There are many commanders, and a few submarshals, and an imager who became a submarshal would create much fear in the hearts of the powerful.”

  “In the hearts of most people,” corrected Quaeryt. “The idea behind the Collegium is that the imagers are protected and in turn protect the ruler who protects them. It will give parents hope for those few children who are imagers, and will provide a check on the power of the High Holders and the wealthy factors.” He dismounted, then handed the gelding’s reins to the waiting ranker. “I’ll be waiting for the students.”