Madness in Solidar

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “You didn’t play pranks on him, then?”

  “Oh, sometimes, but I played pranks on others, too. Just little things, like telling him Maitre Obsolym had delayed an instruction. I didn’t think he’d believe me. Maitre Obsolym never delayed an instruction.”

  “What about Maitre Shaelyt needing a left-handed pair of scissors?”

  “There aren’t any left-handed scissors. I thought he’d know that.”

  “Actually, there are, and Taurek knew that.”

  “Oh … I really didn’t mean any harm, sir.”

  After several questions from Akoryt and Gaellen, Alastar said, “You may return to the anteroom. You’re to stay there until the meeting is over and you are dismissed.”

  “Yes, Maitre.” Bettaur inclined his head politely, turned, and left.

  The next student was Johanyr.

  After Johanyr’s statement, almost identical to that of Bettaur, Alastar asked, “Did you snort like a bull after Maitre Desyrk said that strength was not enough?”

  “No, sir. I might have coughed. I don’t remember.”

  Again, Johanyr did not quite meet Alastar’s eyes. Alastar could also see the rigidity and even a slight trembling of anger in Taurek’s form.

  Shannyr’s statement, and then Klovyl’s, echoed, close to word for word, that of Johanyr, and their answers to questions were almost identical.

  When Klovyl left the conference room, Alastar gestured to Neiryn and Glaesyn. “Escort Tertius Taurek out into the anteroom and remain with him. Maitre Desyrk, please remain here.”

  Alastar saw Desyrk’s face stiffen.

  After the conference room door closed behind the three thirds, Alastar turned to Desyrk. “Has Taurek complained to you about Bettaur in the past?”

  “He did, several times. He said that Bettaur was doing sneaky things, and jabbing him when no one could see. I never saw anything that he complained about, and he couldn’t explain more than that. I asked him if Bettaur or the others had physically abused him. He said that they had not. I told him that I couldn’t do much if they weren’t hurting him, and that he’d have to find a way to deal with it. Boys have always been boys.” Desyrk looked boldly at Alastar.

  “That’s true enough, but when those boys are almost grown men and they’re imagers, telling them to work it out is akin to lighting a torch in a gunpowder magazine. You’re relieved of your duties as discipline master and preceptor … and as an instructor until I review those assignments. You may go. You’re not to leave Imagisle until we talk further.”

  Desyrk stiffened, as if he’d been slapped. “I did my duty—” His voice contained a petulance that Alastar had not heard before.

  “The fact that this incident happened right in front of you is proof you did not. There will be no discussion of this right now.” Alastar’s voice was like ice. “Go.”

  Desyrk tightened his lips, then turned.

  Doesn’t anything work right here? Even as Alastar thought that, he realized it was unfair and inaccurate. Some things did work. It was just that too many did not.

  “Weren’t you a little hard on Desyrk, Maitre?” asked Obsolym after the door closed behind the departing maitre. “You know, he doesn’t see that keenly, not beyond five yards.”

  “He never mentioned that,” Alastar replied.

  “He wouldn’t. He’s too proud,” said Tiranya.

  “That’s part of the problem, too. If he couldn’t see what Bettaur was doing and refused to listen to Taurek, he let his pride get in the way of his duty.” Alastar turned back to Obsolym. “Do you really think I’m being too hard. Think about the implications. Very carefully.”

  The silence in the conference room stretched out.

  Finally, Alastar cleared his throat. “Do any of you have any information that bears on what we have heard?”

  “I do,” said Tiranya. “On two occasions as duty maitre, I observed Bettaur and several others making comments to which Taurek reacted by either flushing or immediately turning away. In both instances, I asked Taurek what it was about. He said that Bettaur was up to his usual tricks, but he was unable to explain what those tricks were. I asked Bettaur, and he offered the statement that he hadn’t meant to upset Taurek. The second time Bettaur said that, I told him that I didn’t expect to ever ask him again about his words upsetting another student. The last incident I observed was in Agostas.”

  “Thank you,” said Alastar. “Might I ask what Bettaur’s subsequent interactions were when he saw you were duty maitre?”

  “After that, his behavior was exemplary whenever I saw him. Whenever he came into the dining hall, he made a point about smiling at me.”

  “Anyone else?” asked Alastar.

  Gaellen nodded. “I don’t know if it was an accident or one of the ‘tricks’ that Taurek mentioned, but last Juyn, Taurek came to the infirmary with a burn on the back of his hand. He said that when he’d picked up his mug at breakfast, it split and spilled hot tea on his hand.” After a moment, Gaellen said, “That’s all.”

  “So they teased him,” declared Obsolym. “An imager needs to be able to withstand that. He still broke the rules, and he attacked a maitre. We can’t allow that.”

  “You’re right about that,” Alastar agreed. “But we also can’t allow a clique of junior thirds to take control of anything, especially when we’re training them to become stronger and better imagers. I’m appalled at the surreptitious use of shields to torment and harm another imager, and in a way designed to make him appear to attack a maitre when he was trying to escape excruciating pain. That kind of planning bespeaks a cruel and devious mind.”

  Alastar was surprised when Obsolym actually nodded.

  “I don’t like the control that Bettaur has over the other three,” said Tiranya.

  “So how can we handle this?” asked Akoryt.

  Alastar smiled grimly and began to explain.

  When he finished, he looked to Obsolym. “Does that meet your criteria for appropriate discipline?”

  “It does, Maitre. I’m sorry it’s necessary, but … I have to admit that Maitre Desyrk should not have let matters get this far.” The words seemed almost to have been dragged out of Obsolym.

  “Akoryt? Gaellen? Tiranya?”

  The other three nodded.

  “Maitre Tiranya, would you have the escorts bring in all five thirds?”

  “Yes, Maitre.”

  In less than a tenth of a glass, the five thirds stood in a line before the table.

  “Tertius Taurek,” began Alastar, his voice cold. “From your actions, it is clear that you did not consider the consequences of those actions. Attacking any other member of the Collegium with the intent to inflict severe harm or death can be punished by death. As Maitre of this Collegium, I have the authority to condemn you to death. You did not consider this. The circumstances of your provocation indicate that your intent was not murder, but uncontrolled anger. You have been warned about this. You did not consider that, either. You were in effect goaded by other students, but you did not describe the extent of that goading, and you did not bring it to the attention of any maitre in a fashion that could be addressed.”

  Alastar then looked at the handsome Bettaur, forcing his voice into the same cold impartiality as he spoke. “Tertius Bettaur, you are far from without guilt and complicity in this matter. You have manipulated words and shaded the truth. You have in effect hazed a fellow student, seemingly with the intent of goading him into breaking Collegium rules. You employed covert imaging in doing so as well, and that is against Collegium rules, to an extent that your acts fall under the provisions dealing with harm to other imagers. The same rules apply to you as to Tertius Taurek. You committed an offense that can be punished by death. You knew that your acts were against Collegium rules. Your twisting of words and truth and your attempts to conceal what you did is proof of that. In addition, you have persuaded others to assist you in this goading and teasing.

  “Tertius Johanyr, Tertius Klovyl, and Ter
tius Shannyr, you allowed Tertius Bettaur to persuade you to assist him in acts that are against both the rules and the spirit of the Collegium.

  “Therefore, the following disciplinary sentences are necessary. Tertius Taurek, you will be confined to a disciplinary cell for the next two weeks. Thereafter you will be restricted to Imagisle until Avryl thirty-fifth. You will have additional special assignments, as determined by the Maitre. Failure to meet the terms of this discipline will result in a hearing to determine whether you are fit to remain an imager.”

  Taurek swallowed, as well he might, reflected Alastar, because if the disciplinary panel and the Maitre agreed that an imager was no longer fit to be an imager, there were only two possibilities—death or being blinded and being exiled to Mont D’Glace.

  “Tertius Bettaur, for your lack of concern for others, for your willful twisting of facts, and for your willingness to harm another, you will be confined to a disciplinary cell for the next two weeks. Thereafter you will be restricted to Imagisle until Avryl thirty-fifth. You will have additional special assignments, as determined by the Maitre. Failure to meet the terms of this discipline will result in a hearing to determine whether you are fit to remain an imager.”

  Bettaur’s mouth opened, if momentarily. Then he clamped his mouth shut.

  “Tertius Johanyr, Tertius Klovyl, and Tertius Shannyr, you will be restricted to Imagisle until Avryl thirty-fifth. You will have additional special assignments, as determined by the Maitre. Failure to meet the terms of this discipline will result in a hearing to determine whether you are fit to remain an imager.

  “Whether any of you understand it or not, every imager’s fate is tied to every other imager’s fate. The Collegium cannot afford the pettiness and scheming we have uncovered here. Nor can the Collegium allow individual imagers to take justice into their own hands.” Alastar paused. “The discipline applied is effective immediately. Maitre Akoryt and Maitre Obsolym will convey Tertius Bettaur and Tertius Taurek to disciplinary quarters. This meeting is concluded.” Alastar stood, then turned and said in a low voice, “Akoryt … before you deal with Taurek…”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Thank you for asking questions about the way Taurek looked. I didn’t catch that, and it was important.”

  “Good observation,” added Obsolym.

  Alastar thought the redheaded maitre looked slightly embarrassed and added, “That was a good example why we need to work together.” And Desyrk’s failures that led to this hearing are an example of what happens when we don’t … and he doesn’t understand. Alastar feared that he never would, either. “Once you have Bettaur confined, I’ll need a moment with you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As the two Maitres D’Structure left, with their charges, both Gaellen and Tiranya moved toward Alastar.

  “You’ve handled disciplinary hearings before, haven’t you?” asked Tiranya.

  Alastar nodded. “The senior imager at Westisle was usually the one who acted as justicer.” He waited for Gaellen, who clearly had something on his mind, to speak.

  “I’ve been thinking about that burn Taurek suffered. Looking back, I can’t believe I didn’t see what seems obvious now. Do you think…?”

  “I think most young imagers are decent at heart,” replied Alastar. “But they want friends; they want to belong, and someone who is talented, handsome, and manipulative, like Bettaur, can lead them astray. When that happens, the leader often focuses on someone else who is different, lacking in some way. Taurek isn’t as dense as Bettaur wanted everyone to believe, but he’s socially less adept, and he has great difficulty speaking up for himself, despite his size and physical strength. That makes him a target. We have to watch the ones like Taurek, because they can either become the bullies or the bullied, and neither situation is good where developing imagers are concerned.”

  “What will happen now, do you think?” asked Gaellen.

  “Bettaur is the one to watch. From my experience, he’ll want to get even, and he’ll play the perfect student until the right opportunity presents itself.”

  Tiranya nodded. “Like he did with me.”

  “You had an idea about this from the beginning, didn’t you?” asked Gaellen. “Did you know about Taurek?”

  Alastar shook his head. “What I knew is that, in this sort of situation, where there’s a group and someone on the outside, in eight out of ten cases, the one who gets caught doing something wrong is usually the victim, who’s had enough and is lashing out because they can’t take it anymore. And that’s exactly what a cunning plotter like Bettaur has in mind.”

  “You don’t care much for him,” declared Gaellen.

  “I don’t care for anyone who wants to succeed by hurting others, rather than triumphing through positive efforts. Especially within the Collegium, we need each and every imager to be the best they can be, and we need to work together, not at cross-purposes.” Alastar grinned, self-deprecatingly. “End of homily. Now, we all need to get back to work.”

  Alastar had no more than left the conference room than Dareyn approached.

  “While you were conducting the hearing, sir, the rex sent a messenger. He would like to see you immediately. Your horse and escorts are waiting. Factor Elthyrd also sent a message. He will be available after second glass at the factors’ building.”

  Alastar thought about putting off that meeting, but then remembered that Elthyrd only liked handling the affairs of the council on Mardi and Vendrei. “If you’d send a messenger saying that I’ll be there at half past two.”

  Dareyn nodded.

  “I’m going to wait a bit until Maitre Akoryt gets back.” Alastar hoped that wouldn’t take too long, but Ryen would be angry in any event, simply because Alastar wasn’t immediately available, and Alastar needed to tie up one loose end. “Also, will you post a notice that for the next week, Maitre Desyrk’s instructional sessions will be canceled.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Fortunately, Alastar had to wait only a tenth of a glass before Akoryt returned, and he used part of the time to gather and roll up the imaged copy of Ryen’s map, since Alyna had the original. Although he had no idea if that might be what the rex wanted to discuss, he wanted to be prepared for that possibility. He stood as Akoryt entered the study.

  “Sir, you wanted to see me?”

  “I did. First, though, how is Bettaur?”

  “He doesn’t understand that he did anything wrong. Other than that…” Akoryt shrugged.

  “I was afraid of that. We’ll have to be very careful once he leaves confinement. That wasn’t the reason I wanted to see you. I need you—the Collegium needs you—to take over Desyrk’s duties. I realize I’m asking a great deal, but it’s something I can’t do.”

  “I’m the most junior Maitre D’Structure…”

  “You’re also perceptive, and that’s going to be even more necessary. Obsolym isn’t temperamentally suited to the position. That leaves you and Taryn, or one of the junior maitres.”

  Akoryt nodded slowly. “I’ll do my best. If I’m not doing what you need, please tell me.”

  “I will.” Akoryt’s words confirmed to Alastar that he was the best for the position. “You’ll make mistakes. We all do. The only question is whether we learn from them.” Alastar smiled. “Thank you. I do appreciate it. If you will excuse me, Rex Ryen has once more summoned me.”

  Akoryt offered a faint smile. “Better you than me, sir.”

  Alastar followed Akoryt from the study and then continued out of the building to where Belsior and Chervyt were mounted and waiting with his gelding. While they made good time, it was still just before noon when Alastar strode up the chateau steps and was escorted to Ryen’s study on the second level.

  The rex was seated behind his desk. He did not rise, but glared at Alastar. “You took your sweet time to get here.”

  “I came as soon as I returned to my study and received your message. I can’t stay in my study and run a Collegium.”

&nb
sp; “Hmmmphh.”

  Alastar approached the desk, but did not sit until Ryen motioned for him to do so.

  “I could see your imagers yesterday and today. They were there, but nothing happened. That isn’t progress.”

  “There is an old adage that applies to cabinetmakers and other builders. ‘Measure once, cut twice. Measure twice, cut once.’ We’ve been studying the route for days, and we’re surveying it now.”

  “You don’t need to survey it. I gave you the route. Just get on with building it,” snapped Ryen.

  “Sir … there are no sewers along that route. We need to know the grades and how to slope the avenue so that the sewers we will build with the avenue will drain properly.”

  “Sewers? I didn’t say anything about sewers…”

  “No, sir. You didn’t. That isn’t your task. It’s ours. You like things done correctly. If we image an avenue without sewers or one with sewers that won’t work, the avenue will stink. An avenue named after you should not stink.”

  Ryen opened his mouth and then closed it. Finally, he said, “You do have a point.”

  “There is also one other matter about the route…”

  “What about the route?”

  “The route you outlined passes less than a full block from the Anomen D’Rex. If we angled the avenue from the ring road to the anomen square and then constructed an oval road around the square, and then angled the avenue to the Bridge of Desires, the ride or drive would only be a few moments longer, but you would have a direct route to both the anomen and the Collegium, and imagers would still be able to reach the chateau easily.”

  “Let me see the map.”

  Alastar stood and unrolled the map, spreading it on the desk.

  Ryen studied the map, frowned, then said abruptly. “For once you’re telling me how to make something better rather than how hard it is to do what I want. That makes sense.”

  “You do know that the apothecaries and others are already complaining about the route and that they will not be adequately compensated—”

  “Let them complain. People always complain. That’s not your business. Your task is to complete the avenue.” Ryen smiled. “I understand Marshal Demykalon demonstrated his new cannon to you. Marvelous weapons. They can destroy the strongest stone structures even across hills and rivers, even in the dark, I understand, if they’re properly ranged and laid.”