Madness in Solidar

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “She’s apparently come a long way.”

  “Very long. She told Tiranya you were very stern. Stern in a nice way, though.”

  “She’s very enthusiastic about the Collegium and very positive about you and Tiranya.”

  “More likely positive about Tiranya and accepting of me.”

  “She said you explained things patiently and well.”

  Alyna looked slightly surprised. “She did?”

  “She did.” Alastar paused. “I’d like to ask you a question. You don’t have to answer it, but I’d appreciate it if you did. Did you find it hard to adjust to the discipline of the Collegium? When you first came, I mean?”

  Alyna opened her mouth, then closed it, shaking her head and laughing softly.

  “I take it that the adjustment wasn’t difficult.”

  “Discipline at home was absolutely firm, and the punishments swift and very certain. The Collegium was certainly not any more demanding, and the punishments less so. The only things I missed were my brothers and sister … and my parents … and maybe the food. But I could image … after a while, that is, and I’d worried about that for over a year.”

  The punishments less so? Alyna’s upbringing had been very strict, particularly for the child of a High Holder. “I take it your household was stricter than that of other High Holders?”

  “Far more so, from what I overheard.”

  “That’s a loss for High Holders and a gain for the Collegium.” He paused momentarily. “I’d appreciate it if you’d continue to keep very good notes. I may have to explain some of the difficulties to Rex Ryen … and thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  By the time Alastar reached his study, Dareyn was already in the anteroom. “Good morning. Did you find out anything from Obsolym about that older imager—Aurelya?”

  “I did, sir. She was the senior imager when Elestor was Maitre. She was at least a Maitre D’Structure. Obsolym said she might have been more powerful than Elestor. He also said that Elestor never disputed her, and always took her advice. She was very quiet. Looked a bit Pharsi, but she never said.”

  “What else?”

  Obsolym shrugged. “There’s not much else. Her husband was a Maitre D’Aspect, but he died in the first mess at Estisle, the one where the local council head started burning books because he said they were the tools of the Namer. She didn’t go. Might have been because her son was born about then. When the second burning occurred, she did go. There’s not much about what she and the three with her did, but Estisle and Nacliano pay their tariffs and still send a token of fifty golds a year to the Collegium.”

  That was something else Alastar didn’t know. “What happened to her?”

  “She died in her sleep, several years before I came here, sir.”

  “And her son?”

  “He wasn’t an imager. His name was Rousel. He went into trade. Woolens, maybe.”

  Alastar concealed a frown. Usually, a child of two imagers was also an imager. “Did Obsolym say anything else?”

  “No, sir. There’s a file on her in the locked section.”

  “I’ll look at it when I have time.” Alastar looked up as he saw Desyrk walking toward him. “How are Bettaur and Taurek this morning?”

  “Bettaur’s fine, except he’s worried about speaking before five masters.”

  “He should be. While there’s no excuse for what Taurek did, nasty comments also don’t have any place in the Collegium.”

  “You’re thinking of reprimanding him?”

  “And assigning him some messy cleanup duties.” Alastar hadn’t forgotten being the smallest and youngest student imager at Westisle.

  “They’re just boys. And Maitre Fhaen…”

  “What about Maitre Fhaen?”

  “He said that we needed to remember that.”

  That’s not what he was going to say. But Alastar doubted that he would get a straight answer, not from the stubborn set of Desyrk’s jaw. “I don’t think you understand. Allowing hazing and nasty teasing is an invitation to revenge. Taurek’s obviously not the subtle type, but what happens when the smallest and weakest boy grows up to be a talented imager? What happens if he’s particularly subtle as well … and holds a grudge? And can wait … and wait? Or what happens if that youngster can’t wait and hurts or kills the son of a powerful factor or High Holder? Good, no … excellent manners are a necessity, at all times, even when no masters are watching, especially among the younger students and the older ones who deal with them. Once the students get older and begin to understand what imaging can do, they tend to become more aware. Part of our job is to make certain they do. Just what would have happened if Bettaur had made that comment after dinner in the darkness while they were walking back to their rooms?”

  Desyrk didn’t quite meet Alastar’s eyes.

  “We can’t afford to lose a single imager to another imager’s anger. We lose enough from mistakes in imaging,” Alastar added. “And I seriously doubt that the student imager who ‘ran away’ the month before I arrived did any such thing. You have all the other witnesses?

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now … if you’ll set up the conference room for the meeting, and have the other maitres who will hear what happened join me in my study when they arrive.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Alastar walked into his study, he was not quite seething, both at himself for getting irritated at Desyrk and at Desyrk for not understanding. But then, too many of the senior maitres don’t seem to understand just how precarious the situation of the Collegium is—even after you’ve explained it more than once. It’s as though, because nothing this dangerous has ever occurred, they can’t even see that it’s dangerous. He didn’t have long to consider that, because Tiranya and Obsolym arrived in less than a tenth of a glass, and they had barely entered his study when Akoryt followed.

  “This about that boy Taurek?” asked Obsolym. “He’s been trouble since he got here.”

  “From the initial report from Maitre Desyrk, apparently there was more than one side to the altercation. It happened while he was instructing.”

  “I wondered why you were heading the meeting, rather than him,” said the oldest maitre. “He usually acts as justicer.”

  “I’d just as soon have had him doing it, with everything else that’s going on,” said Alastar, not exactly truthfully.

  “Who else will be on the panel?” asked Akoryt quickly.

  “Gaellen,” answered Alastar.

  “He’s usually early to everything,” observed Tiranya.

  Another two quints passed before Gaellen hurried into the study, breathing heavily. “I apologize, Maitre. One of the cook’s assistants cut herself when another spilled boiling water … I had to clean and stitch the wound.”

  “Those things happen.” Especially when everything else is not going well. “Let’s go into the conference room and get ready.” Alastar left the study, followed by the others, and crossed the anteroom to the conference room. The conference table had been turned and placed at one end of the chamber. Behind it were five chairs. Alastar took the center seat, with Obsolym to his right, Akoryt to his left. Tiranya sat to Akoryt’s left, and Gaellen to Obsolym’s right. Glaesyn and Neiryn stood flanking the closed doors. There were two empty chairs set against the wall on the right side of the chamber, midway between the table and the door.

  Once the five maitres were seated, Alastar said, “Bring in the offender.”

  Neiryn opened the doors.

  Desyrk led Taurek into the chamber. The student wore a thick black blindfold, and his hands were manacled behind him, so that he could not lift his hands to remove the blindfold.

  “This hearing is in order,” Alastar announced. “Taurek, Imager Tertius, step forward.”

  Prompted by Desyrk, Taurek stepped forward. He was almost as tall as Desyrk, and broader across the chest.

  Indeed, almost bull-like, thought Alastar before asking, “What is the offense repor
ted?”

  “The student imager raised shields around a classmate,” began Desyrk. “He refused to drop those shields when ordered by a senior maitre. He almost suffocated the classmate to death, then attacked the senior maitre with shields before he was restrained.”

  Alastar could feel a tenseness from the maitres seated beside him.

  “You are charged with three offenses, Taurek,” Alastar declared, “attacking a classmate, willfully disobeying a maitre, and attacking that maitre. Do you dispute those charges?”

  “Not the charges, sir. I ask for consideration of the circumstances.”

  “That request for consideration is noted. Please seat the offender.”

  Desyrk guided Taurek toward the two chairs, where Taurek sat, leaning somewhat forward on the chair, given that his hands were manacled behind him. Then Desyrk returned to stand before the conference table.

  “Maitre Desyrk, please describe exactly what happened.”

  “Yes, sir.” Desyrk began. “I was instructing the lower-level thirds in the use of technique in imaging. I was having them image copies of intricate figures, and I had made the comment that there was no substitute for technique. I then said that substituting strength for technique could get them in trouble. Tertius Bettaur made a remark I was not meant to hear to the effect that most bulls that were strong and obstinate got gelded, like some thirds might.”

  “Were those Bettaur’s exact comments, to the best you can remember?” asked Alastar.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Go on.”

  “Then a number of the other thirds snickered. Taurek squirmed in his chair, and his face twisted. Bettaur didn’t move at all. Then Bettaur began to turn red, and I realized that Taurek had clamped shields around Bettaur. I ordered Taurek to drop the shields. He didn’t. I don’t think he even heard me. I imaged ice water over him, and then he tried the shields on me. I managed to collapse his shields back on him. I had to hold them until he passed out. I immediately sent Orlana to fetch Maitre Gaellen, but both students recovered before he arrived.”

  “Did either student say anything after they recovered?”

  “Bettaur said that Taurek was always losing his temper and that he couldn’t take a joke.”

  “Was that all he said?”

  “That was all he said. Taurek said that Bettaur was always setting things up to trick and tease him, and that he’d had enough of his—Bettaur’s—pretended innocence. Bettaur started to say something else, and I told him to be quiet.”

  “Why did you say that?”

  “Because I could see that he was likely to say something else to irritate Taurek, and Taurek was still upset.”

  “To your knowledge, is this the first time that Taurek has attempted to use imaging against another student or maitre?”

  “It is.”

  “Is it the first time you have observed taunting or untoward behavior on the part of Bettaur?”

  “I have heard murmurs before, upon occasion, but I could not determine what was said, or by whom. Most of those times, I could see that Taurek had some reaction.”

  “How many times has this happened?”

  “Not that often. Perhaps half a score.”

  “Did you say anything on those occasions?” pressed Alastar.

  “Not for the first time or so. After that, I immediately said that murmurs and other comments were not appropriate to an instructional period.”

  “You were not able to determine who made those remarks?”

  “No, sir. They usually occurred when I was working with one student on something or not looking at the students.”

  “Do any of you have any questions?” Alastar looked first to his left and then to his right.

  “If I might,” offered Tiranya.

  Alastar nodded.

  Tiranya looked squarely at Desyrk. “Did you talk this over with other maitres to see if they had observed this behavior in their dealings with students?”

  “I didn’t think it was appropriate. That would have been asking about gossip.”

  “Thank you,” replied Tiranya.

  “Are there any other questions?” asked Alastar.

  “Just two,” replied Akoryt. “You said that Taurek had not used imaging against any of the other students. Had he ever acted physically against them?”

  “Not that I ever saw.”

  Akoryt nodded. “You said that right before Bettaur turned red, Taurek squirmed and his face twisted. Do you have any idea why?”

  “No, I don’t. I thought it was because he was getting angry.”

  “Did you talk to him after you restrained him?”

  “He said he wanted to explain. I told him it was too late for explanations and that he could explain at a disciplinary meeting. He said that I would have done the same thing. I told him not to say another word until the meeting.”

  “That’s all I wanted to ask,” said Akoryt.

  As usual, there’s more here than meets the eye. “You may take your seat, Maitre Desyrk,” said Alastar. “We’d like to hear your side of the story, Tertius Taurek. You may remain seated. Please begin by addressing what happened with Bettaur in the imaging instruction. You can offer additional explanations after that, if you feel it necessary.”

  “Yes, sir.” Taurek paused. “At first, most everything happened the way Maitre Desyrk said. Except after the maitre talked about technique being more important than strength, Shannyr whispered that I’d rather be strong like a bull. Then Johanyr snorted like a bull, and Bettaur murmured that was why they gelded bulls, and he…” Taurek swallowed. “He used shields … well, like he was trying to … to make me an ox. He’s always doing sneaky things like that. That’s why I try to carry shields all the time, but that’s hard, and I was tired. I didn’t think he’d do something like that, not in front of a maitre. It really hurt. He didn’t just jab. He kept squeezing. So I put my shields around him, but he wouldn’t stop, not until he turned red. I knew Maitre Desyrk wanted me to stop, but Bettaur didn’t stop. As soon as he did, I dropped the shields around him. It was either a moment before or a moment after Maitre Desyrk dropped the ice water on me. Then Maitre Desyrk put shields around me, and they hurt where Bettaur had hurt me even more. I tried to stop him, but … I couldn’t.”

  Alastar watched Desyrk, but the Maitre D’Structure’s face revealed little. That’s not good, not at all. “What happened after that?”

  “When I woke up, I was blindfolded, and my hands were shackled behind me.”

  “Do you wish to offer any additional explanations?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’m not quick with words, sir. I believe people when they say things. Bettaur would say things, like Maitre Obsolym said he would be late to his session, and we don’t have to be there until a tenth past the glass. Then when I turned the other way, he and the others sneaked around the building and were there on time. I was only a little late, but I was late, because I was looking for them. Then a month later, Bettaur says the same thing. I don’t believe him, and I go to the room, and Maitre Obsolym is still working with the primes, and he gets gruff for my walking in, because he’d told the others to wait a tenth of a glass…”

  Alastar listened to another five examples laid out by Taurek, where the student imager claimed that he’d been set up or tricked, to the point where he never knew whether what the others said was so, and that led to his questioning various maitres because he never knew something to be so unless he heard it himself.

  “… I’ve forgotten a lot of the little things Bettaur and the others did, but it was always something…”

  Alastar looked to his left. “Are there any questions?” He looked to his right. All he saw were headshakes.

  “That will be all for now, Taurek. You’re to remain here and be silent.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Summon Tertius Bettaur.”

  This time, Glaesyn opened the door, and Neiryn stepped out, returning almost immed
iately with Bettaur, who could not have presented a better physical example of a young imager—muscular, but not overly so, and well-proportioned, slightly square-chinned with a slight dimple, a straight nose, a fair but not pale complexion, fine blond hair, and brilliant blue eyes.

  “Step forward, Tertius Bettaur,” Alastair said.

  Bettaur did, inclining his head politely.

  “Tell us what happened yesterday when Maitre Desyrk was instructing you and the other thirds in imaging technique.”

  “We arrived at first glass, Maitre. Everyone was there before the bell rang the glass—”

  “Who were the other student imagers?” interrupted Alastar.

  “There were just five of us. The others were Johanyr, Klovyl, and Shannyr … and Taurek, of course.”

  “Go on.”

  “Maitre Desyrk showed us an object. I don’t know how to describe it, Maitre. It had angles, and curves. It was hollowed out, and had an oval wooden top…”

  Alastar refrained from nodding to himself as he took in Bettaur’s pleasant baritone voice.

  “… with an octagonal base. It looked to be entirely of wood, but parts were painted different colors. One part was red, and the curve—it wasn’t a semicircle, but an arc—it was gray … the maitre let each of us examine it, and then he put it on a stool in front of us. He said that, in a few moments, each of us would have to image the best copy of the object. He started to talk about how important technique in imaging was. He said we had to concentrate on the image we intended to image into being. He said being a strong imager wasn’t enough. Then he said that strength without technique would get an imager into trouble. Shannyr murmured that he’d rather be strong like a bull. Johanyr snorted like a bull. I said there was a reason why they gelded most bulls.”

  “Did you say anything else?”

  “No, sir. All of a sudden there were shields around me. I couldn’t say anything. The next thing I knew, Maitre Desyrk was looking down at me and asking if I was all right.”

  “Did you touch or jab Taurek?”

  “I didn’t lay a hand on him, sir, the Nameless knows.”

  “How did you get along with Taurek?”

  “We didn’t, not really, sir. He was always doing stupid things. I just tried to stay out of his way.”