He rose. “I’ll do my best to keep you informed.” Then he turned and motioned to Seliora.
25
By a quint before second glass, Alastar, Seliora, and Taurek were less than half a mile from the gates of the Army High Command.
Alastar turned to Taurek. “Your father was a commander, wasn’t he?” Alastar knew that, but didn’t want to presume too much.
“Yes, sir.”
“Was he posted here?”
“No, sir. Well … not as a commander. He was posted to Estisle when I was little. He was the base commander there.”
“Wasn’t that unusual?”
Taurek laughed. “He asked for it. Figured he’d never make commander any other way, and he didn’t much care for all the second sons of High Holders who were always jockeying for position here.”
“He’d just taken his stipend, as I recall, when I became Maitre. Is he…?”
“He’s fine. He was when he sent his last letter a couple of weeks ago. He keeps his hand in by training merchanter ship guards. Says he doesn’t miss L’Excelsis at all, especially the High Holders’ sons who become officers.”
“We just might recommend to the marshal that there be a limit on the number of them in senior officer positions here in L’Excelsis. It wouldn’t hurt if they spent more time in places like Tilbora or Solis, or Estisle.”
“You know, sir, it wouldn’t hurt to have a branch of the Collegium in Estisle.”
“I’ve thought about it.” Alastar smiled. “Are you jockeying to head it up?”
“No, sir.” Taurek grinned. “Not until I’m at least a Maitre D’Structure. But I do know a bit about Estisle. My da walked me over every street and out every pier, both in Nacliano and Estisle.”
“We’ll talk about it after this mess is over … and after you become a Maitre D’Structure.”
“Of course, sir.”
Alastar looked toward the gates. Beyond them, where stood two guards with rifles, Alastar could see a faint haze, or perhaps a thin wreath of smoke. As he started to rein up, a squad leader emerged from the gatehouse.
“You’re Maitre Alastar, sir?”
“I am.”
“Go on in. The marshal left orders that if you showed up, he’d like to see you. You know where the headquarters building is?”
“If it survived and hasn’t moved in the past year,” replied Alastar dryly.
The squad leader smiled. “Same place, sir. It’s got some holes in it now, though.”
“Thank you.” Alastar inclined his head, then urged his mount forward, noticing that the gelding tossed his head just slightly as a vagrant puff of air carried an acrid odor to him.
As they neared the headquarters building, Alastar saw a gaping hole at one side, where he thought Wilkorn’s study had been. A handful of rankers were already busy with picks and hammers, breaking apart the rubble and stacking the good bricks in neat piles.
When he reined up in front of the building, he couldn’t help smiling at the polished brass of the main entry. Then he turned to the junior maitres. “If you’d wait here, but hold your shields. I hope I won’t be too long.”
He dismounted and tied the gelding to the hitching rail, then walked toward the steps.
The trooper on duty started forward, then caught sight of the imager grays and stepped back. “The marshal is in the procurement study, sir.”
“Thank you. Where is that … from where his study is … or was?”
“It’s two doors to the left, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Two more troopers studied Alastar as he crossed the center hall and turned to the left, but did not move toward him. A third trooper rose from behind a narrow table in the corridor, obviously moved there temporarily. “I’ll announce you, Maitre.” He turned and opened the door slightly, “Maitre Alastar is here, sir.”
Alastar was vaguely amused. Clearly his description had been passed around headquarters. “Thank you.” He stepped past the table and opened the door, entering the study.
Although Wilkorn’s left arm was splinted, he rose from behind the small desk, if somewhat slowly, but before Alastar could gesture for him to remain seated. “You look to be in better shape than I am, Maitre.”
“For which I have to admit that I’m grateful,” returned Alastar humorously.
Wilkorn settled back into his chair. “I don’t know whether to be angry at the Namer-damned High Holders or just relieved to survive.”
“Maybe you should just promote more sons of factors,” said Alastar, “and post the offspring of High Holders in out-of-the-way installations.”
“I’m giving that great thought. Vaelln would, too, I suspect.”
“How is he? Your message said he was severely injured.”
“Not quite so bad as we thought, but he was cut up all over, and there was a lot of blood. The surgeon thinks he’ll recover fully before I will.”
“How many troopers do you have ready to fight?”
“Two battalions, but five companies to a battalion. We’ve had to restructure, but they’ll fight, and they’ll fight well. I put Commander Maurek in charge.” Wilkorn coughed and cleared his throat. “Frigging dust. Still everywhere. I heard that a cannon shell wiped out four of the five High Councilors.” He smiled. “Had to be a pretty good gunner to hit a window with one round and no ranging shots.”
“Perhaps someone placed the shell there and set it off with a fuse of some sort.”
“Anything is possible, I suspect. Not that I’m going to worry about a single misplaced shell when I’ve got two missing battalions, and two thousand stolen rifles to worry about.”
“I have the feeling that Commander Aestyn…”
“So do I. No proof, but with two High Holder brats running in the direction of a third, who used maintenance to get an additional thousand rifles, I’d be a fool to think anything else.” Wilkorn frowned. “You and your imagers took out a whole regiment years back. They have to know that.”
“I’ve thought of that. Right now, we have two missing imagers. One of them … let’s say … might have ties to a High Holder … and even to one High Holder Regial…” Alastar went on to give his version of the messenger in scarlet and black. “… and then there’s the problem that someone was sending notes to Lady Chelia providing her and Lorien with information about the killing of young student imagers … and the fact that initially we were unable to do anything.”
“Implying that Lorien shouldn’t back the Collegium … or something might happen to their children.”
“That was the conclusion I drew, and the one they did.”
“Who is that someone?”
“The notes were unsigned and the hand disguised. It has to be a High Holder, but she couldn’t name him.”
“Probably her brother or someone acting for him. That’s just the sort of indirect scheming that family is good at … and they’ll sacrifice their own as quick as anyone else.”
“That’s the most likely possibility, but there’s no way to tell, and probably less chance of proving it.”
The marshal snorted. “Could be he’s worse than his sire, and that’s saying something.”
“How soon do you think we’ll see their forces?”
“That depends on how much they’ve got in the way of reinforcements and where they’re coming from.”
“I’d wager that all the reinforcements are already with Aestyn and on the way toward L’Excelsis from Ferravyl.”
“A good week, most likely.” Wilkorn frowned again. “Might be longer. They’ve got to be bringing cannon.”
“Because cannon are the only weapon a good imager can’t stop?”
“That’s the way I see it.”
It was also the way Alastar saw it, although he hadn’t initially thought of cannon. “Did Aestyn also requisition cannon to use against the pirates in and around the Sud Swamp?”
“He did, and I granted the request, the more fool I.”
“Might I ask whe
n?”
“Last Mayas.”
In Mayas? How long have they been setting this up? Much longer than Alastar wanted to think, that was clear. “Do you have cannon to deal with theirs?”
“Not what they have. We moved most of them to Solis and the port cities.” Wilkorn looked to Alastar.
“At my recommendation, I know.”
“Nothing like being sunk by your own guns, is it, Maitre?” Wilkorn’s words were warmly ironic.
“You do have some, I take it?”
“An even half score.”
“That might be enough. Do you remember what Chesyrk attempted.…” Alastar went on to explain, outlining how it might be possible to use one past rebel tactic against the latest rebels.
Less than a quint later, he left headquarters and mounted the gray for the return to Imagisle.
“That didn’t take too long, sir,” offered Taurek as the three imagers rode toward the gates.
“Longer than I would have liked, but Marshal Wilkorn does have some capabilities that we can adapt.” At least, I hope we can.
“Do the High Holders really believe they can win?” asked Taurek.
“Those who are rebelling believe they will lose if they don’t fight,” replied Alastar. “The rex has turned down their petitions. Those petitions asked for the reinstatement of their ancient and excessive rights, not that they believe they were excessive.”
“But all of them have so much.”
“Many would have to sell lands to pay those debts, and if they sell enough to pay, they well might not hold enough to be High Holders. They feel threatened, and those with power who feel threatened are always dangerous.”
Seliora nodded, while Taurek just shook his head.
Just before fourth glass, Alastar walked into the anteroom in the administration building to find Cyran waiting for him.
“Come on in.” Alastar motioned for the senior imager to join him in the study. “When did you get back?”
“About a glass ago.”
Alastar shut the study door and asked, “How did matters go with Elthyrd and Meinyt?”
“They’re not happy men, either of them,” replied Cyran.
“I don’t want them to be happy. I want them to get on with developing a working relationship between factors and High Holders.”
“You made that clear enough. Meinyt is willing to work with Elthyrd, but he wanted me to convey to you that there’s little if anything he can do about the rebels, and unless or until they come to terms or are defeated, nothing that he and Elthyrd agree on can be implemented. He did have one good suggestion, and Elthyrd agreed with it.”
“What was that?”
“There should be a council of factors for all of Solidar just as there is a High Council.”
Alastar nodded. “That makes sense. It will probably have to start as a coordinating and advisory group.”
“That’s just what Elthyrd said.”
“At least we’ve got those two talking.” Alastar shook his head. “Now all we have to do is defeat a rebel army that has enough cannon to pound down almost any imagers’ shields.”
“They have cannon?”
“That’s what Wilkorn believes. Far more than he has, ever since a certain maitre suggested that the cannon at headquarters might best be employed elsewhere.” Alastar’s last words carried a certain amount of rue.
“How could you have known?”
“I should have seen that times were changing and that the old ways of the High Holders couldn’t last, not unless they changed and became more like factors. Some have, but most haven’t, and they’re afraid and angry at what’s happened, and they blame the Collegium and the rex. They think we’ve helped the factors at their expense, when all we’ve done is to keep the High Holders from squashing the factors. The High Holders don’t see it that way, of course. Most of them don’t, anyway.”
“How soon will they attack, then?”
“Wilkorn thinks it will be at least a week. It might be longer. Cannon slow things down.”
“What do you think we should do?”
“I’d like to have you, Akoryt, Alyna, and me meet tomorrow morning at seventh glass to talk over some of the things we might be able to do. I need to think before we meet, and it might be better if we all do.”
Cyran nodded.
“Has anything else happened?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, that I know of.”
“That’s somewhat reassuring.” Alastar’s tone was dry. “Then I’ll see you in the morning. Leave the door open.”
Once Cyran left, Alastar looked at the master ledger, then shook his head. With the accuracy Thelia applied to the Collegium’s accounts, he really didn’t need to study the ledger as much as he did, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood, anyway.
He couldn’t help worrying that, as far as the rebels were concerned, they knew something he didn’t, and that bothered him. Perhaps in the meeting tomorrow …
“You’re looking very thoughtful.”
Alastar looked up as Alyna stepped into the study.
“I’m worried, I have to say.”
She smiled warmly. “You’ve always worried a lot. Did you find out anything more from Lorien? I assume that’s where you went. You’d mentioned that at breakfast.”
“I saw Lorien and Chelia, and then went to see Marshal Wilkorn.” He summarized what he had learned. “… and all that means matters are worse than we expected.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I’ve confirmed that they’re worse. I can’t prove it. I may never be able to prove it, but guess who’s likely behind all of this?”
“High Holder Ryel.”
Alastar nodded. “And he’s likely enlisted Ryentar to the cause, most likely promising that he can be rex.”
“The messenger in scarlet and black? Those are his colors as High Holder Regial? That makes sense, given his attitude. Do you think Ryel has also co-opted Bettaur?”
“It’s possible, but I have no way of knowing.”
“That may be, but is there any other explanation?”
“I can’t think of one,” Alastar admitted.
“How do they think they can defeat the Collegium?”
“With a great number of cannon.”
“That didn’t work last time,” Alyna pointed out.
“We had the advantage then.”
“We did?”
“They were attacking us, and we knew where their positions were, and they didn’t know where ours were. They also didn’t know what we could do, and their cannon were lightly guarded. This time, their cannon will be heavily guarded, and they may even have two imagers.”
“That shouldn’t be enough, and Ryel has to know that.”
“I know that, and so do you, and so does he, and that makes me wonder what we’ve overlooked.”
“Maybe that’s what he wants us to think.”
Alastar shrugged.
“You’re not thinking well. Your eyes are pinkish again. Let’s go collect the girls and go home. You need some lager and some quiet.”
Alastar didn’t argue.
After returning to the Maitre’s house, he did indeed have a lager, and then a solid dinner, and it was solid, with potato dumplings, no doubt because the root crops, such as potatoes, hadn’t suffered nearly so much as the grains and maize. When the main part of the meal was over, he gave Lystara and Malyna a brief summary of the day’s events, beginning with his meeting with Meinyt and Elthyrd, followed by the meeting with Lorien, and then the meeting with Marshal Wilkorn. He did avoid mentioning anything about Ryel and the twisted family relationships, involving Chelia, Ryel, Ryentar, and Bettaur.
Lystara immediately asked, “Why do the High Holders want things to be the way they were? Most people were poorer and unhappier, weren’t they?”
Alyna and Alastar exchanged glances before she nodded to him, if with the hint of a smile.
“Most people were, but the High Holders were more po
werful, and they could do almost anything they wanted, especially in the parts of Solidar that used to be Tilbor, Telaryn, and Antiago. They also had more of the golds. Now the factors and even some crafters have more golds, and some of the High Holders have less. They don’t like that. This isn’t true of all High Holders. Your uncle Zaerlyn, for example, has done quite well, but that’s because his family has always stayed in factoring and manufacturing as well.”
“Isn’t his family ours?”
“We are all part of a large family,” Alastar agreed.
“How many High Holders will join this rebellion, Uncle Alastar?”
“Right now, we know of at least ten, and there are probably another ten, although that’s just a guess.”
“That’s not very many. There are more than a thousand High Holders.”
“If we don’t defeat them, it’s enough to unseat Rex Lorien and change the laws, and weaken the Collegium, if not destroy it.”
A puzzled expression crossed Malyna’s face.
“Most people really don’t care who’s rex, just so long as their lives aren’t upset and they aren’t put in danger or impoverished. They worry more about putting food on the table, clothes on their back, and a roof overhead … and about being able to walk the streets safely. That’s a simplification, but it’s true for most people. The factors want to be able to build bigger factorages and make more and better things.” Alastar paused for a moment, trying to summarize his answer. “If the High Holders defeat the army and the Collegium, and remove Rex Lorien and make someone else rex, and nothing else changes, most people won’t want to fight anymore because it won’t gain them anything … and those who wanted to make things better will have been defeated or scattered.” Or dead.
“That’s…” Malyna shook her head, apparently unable to find a suitable adjective.
“That’s human nature,” added Alyna. “Only a small fraction of people in any land determine what happens. When the first rex regis decided to unify Solidar, he had only a small army and a handful of imagers. We were fortunate that he had good ideas. Others have had bad ideas. The ancient Naedarans turned against their imagers, and everything collapsed. That’s often why it’s important to stop people who have bad ideas before they get too far. That’s what your uncle is trying to do.”
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