Madness in Solidar

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Rex Regis was a warrior, and a mighty man was he,

  He broke the holders of the hills, and he made them die and flee,

  His armies swept Bovaria and set all her people free,

  Then conquered Khel and Antiago, to rule from sea to sea,

  But few among the armies knew his line was solid Pharsi

  Praise your Hengist or your Caldor, any warrior you can see

  But none’s as mighty as Rex Regis, the Yaran who was a Pharsi…”

  As the young maitre played and sang, with a pleasant but not outstanding voice, Alastar watched the seconds. The body positions suggested puzzlement.

  “Have any of you heard that song?” asked Shaelyt when he finished.

  “No, sir.” That response was unanimous, not surprisingly, even to Alastar, who had never heard the tune, and he’d overheard many, especially as a boy in Westisle.

  “You can hear why. It’s not that good a song, but it was sung hundreds of years ago. I doubt that it was that popular even then, but I found a copy in the archives. More important, why did I sing it in a study session about the history of Solidar?”

  There were no answers, no words from the student imagers.

  “What do you think about Pharsis?” Shaelyt pointed to a slightly rotund second.

  “They lived in the west. In Khel, when it was separate land. Rex Kharst killed most of them.”

  “So why are the Pharsis important to the Collegium?”

  “Some imagers are Pharsi, aren’t they?” asked the sole girl among the students.

  “Yes, they are, Linzya. Why might that be?”

  The lack of replies suggested more blank faces.

  “Borlan? Do you know Tertius Belsior?

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you know where his name comes from?”

  “Elsior, sir. He was a great imager in the old days, and he was the second Maitre of the Collegium.”

  “He was also a Pharsi. So was Quaeryt, the first Maitre. So, as the song shows, was Rex Regis.”

  “They all were?” Borlan’s face showed considerable surprise.

  “There are other names that also have a Pharsi origin…”

  Alastar slipped from the chamber. Much as he’d enjoyed Shaelyt’s way of getting into the contribution the Pharsi community had made to the creation of Solidar, he was getting worried … even though he had the feeling that he’d hear little from anyone until Lundi … if then.

  As he walked back to the administration building, he could feel that the winds of the past few days had died away, but also noted that the sky was becoming overcast, although, without a breeze, the day felt only chilly. When he reached the anteroom, Dareyn looked up from his desk.

  “You received a letter from Factor Elthyrd. I left it on your desk. I didn’t know when you’d be back. I didn’t think you’d be long.”

  “I was observing a lesson. Is there anything from anyone else?”

  “No, sir.”

  That concerned Alastar, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. So he walked into the study, opened the single envelope on the desk, and began to read even before he sat down.

  Maitre Alastar—

  I must say that the factors’ council was pleased with the speed with which the Collegium addressed the first of the locations requiring repairs to the sewers. The fact that the imagers managed the repairs with minimal disruption to wagons and coaches traveling Nordroad was also noted favorably.

  I also trust it will not be too long before the Collegium can proceed with the other repairs that the council brought to the attention of the Collegium.

  Alastar smiled sardonically at the last words of the missive, then sat down to write an immediate response. Since you have the time and it will serve another purpose. He wrote deliberately and cautiously.

  Dear Factorius Elthyrd—

  Thank you for your missive about the recent sewer repairs.

  As I indicated when we last spoke, when we can get to the next repairs will depend on other commitments, since, as you may have heard, Rex Ryen and Marshal Demykalon have a considerable difference of opinion with the High Council over the level of next year’s tariffs, and the rex has made a number of demands on the Collegium recently. You may rest assured that we will indeed complete the repairs you suggested, but the timing will depend upon other events over which the Collegium has no control.

  Alastar looked over what he had written, then decided against adding more, and signed the letter. After letting the ink dry and then blotting it, he folded it, put it in an envelope and sealed, before taking it out to Dareyn.

  “Please, have this dispatched back to Factor Elthyrd, at his factorage, not at the factors’ council.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dareyn smiled faintly. “And no, sir, there aren’t any more messages.”

  “Thank you.” Alastar had the feeling that the remainder of Samedi would be long and uneventful, but that lack of happenings was likely the calm before the tempest.

  20

  With all his worries, Alastar didn’t sleep late on Solayi, but woke as early as he did during the rest of the week. When he entered the dining hall for breakfast, he was surprised to see Alyna there—until he realized she was seated with Tiranya, who was the duty maitre. That makes sense, since they share a cottage. He debated taking the seat beside Tiranya, to show impartiality, then decided to be selfish, and moved to the seat beside Alyna.

  “Good morning,” he offered cheerfully. “You wouldn’t mind if I joined you?”

  “Not at all,” replied Tiranya almost forcefully and with a wide smile.

  “Please do,” added Alyna quietly.

  “Thank you.” Alastar eased into the chair.

  “We’ll likely get better fare now that you’re here, Maitre,” declared Tiranya. “That’s for certain.”

  “I fear it will take more than my presence,” he replied with a laugh.

  “The food has improved since you arrived at the Collegium,” said Alyna.

  “Not nearly as much as it needs to, but I’m glad to hear that my presence has had a beneficial effect in some areas.” He reached for the sole pitcher, then paused as a student server hurried forward with a second one. “Let me guess. There’s only pale lager in that one.”

  Alyna smiled mischievously. “How did you ever calculate that?”

  “It wasn’t with geometry.” Alastar glanced at her beaker, noting that it was empty, then took the new pitcher and filled her beaker before his own. He couldn’t help smiling as he set the pitcher down.

  “I would have asked … if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

  “But you’re saving the requests for when they’re absolutely necessary? Is that something you learned young?”

  “Of course … and thank you.”

  At that moment, two servers hurried up with a plate for each of the three maitres, set them down, inclined their heads respectfully, if quickly, and headed back to the kitchen, as if they did not wish to remain. One of the three was Shannyr, which might have explained both the quick service and departure.

  Alastar noted that the cheesed eggs were solid but not firm and only held a touch of brown. The small loaf of dark bread was still warm. The strips of ham were crispy on the edges but not burned. Definitely an improvement.

  “Will we begin actual imaging on the avenue tomorrow?” asked Alyna.

  That was something about which Alastar had very mixed feelings, but he only said, “Unless something comes up to make that infeasible.”

  Tiranya swallowed quickly and looked past Alyna to Alastar. “Maitre, that sounds ominous.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” replied Alastar. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way.” Even if it’s likely true. “The rex wants his avenue built. The factors want their sewers repaired … and then there are the priorities within the Collegium. I don’t want to cancel too much instruction at any one time.”

  Tiranya nodded, looked briefly at Alyna, then turned back to her plate and too
k another mouthful of eggs.

  “Nicely done,” murmured Alyna in a dry voice so low that Alastar could barely hear it.

  He managed not to choke on the lager he had just swallowed. At the same time, he wanted to smile. He liked Alyna’s understated humor. Because you like her … or just the humor? He broke off a chunk of the dark bread and ate it, finding it warm, but not quite so moist or sweet as he would have preferred.

  “When will you have us do another sewer repair?” asked Alyna.

  “Not for at least a week. We’ve repaired the two most critical places.” One critical to the Collegium and one to the wealthier factors and their wives. “I worry about the apothecaries and others once we begin to remove buildings. What reaction have you seen when you’ve been surveying and measuring…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Surveying includes measuring.”

  “That doesn’t require an apology,” replied Alyna.

  “It would if I’d said it,” quipped Tiranya.

  “You’re not the Maitre,” said Alyna, her voice false-honeyed.

  How many ways can you take that? wondered Alastar, immediately deciding to return to his previous inquiry. “Did anyone appear angry … or worse?”

  “More unhappy, I think. One man muttered to another about even imagers would be sorry, but that was only once.”

  “For everyone who said something, quite a few more likely thought it,” mused Alastar, before finishing his eggs and the last scrap of the crispy ham.

  “They wouldn’t act against imagers, would they?” asked Tiranya.

  “It depends on how angry they are. Very few in generations have seen what an imager can do. The problem is that, if they do, we may create even more difficulties for ourselves.” Unless you can set it up so that it’s clearly someone else’s doing and fault, and that doesn’t seem possible … yet. Alastar took a last swallow of lager from his beaker and set it on the table.

  “Would you mind if I walked with you?” Alyna asked even before Alastar thought about rising and leaving.

  “Not at all…”

  Alyna turned to Tiranya. “I’ll see you at services, then.”

  “If there aren’t any problems,” replied the younger maitre.

  “I’m sure you can handle them.” Alastar stood, hoping at the same time that there wouldn’t be, given that the Collegium already faced enough difficulties.

  “Tiranya definitely can,” added Alyna.

  When the two left the dining hall, Alastar could see that, while they had been eating, the clouds had thickened into a blackish gray. A gusty cold wind battered them as they walked in the direction of the administration building and, beyond that, of Alyna’s cottage to the northwest. They had just gotten halfway across the green when an especially strong gust of wind whipped past them. Alastar could see rain sweeping toward them, like a wall of water so heavy that he could barely see his residence to the north.

  “You’ll never make to your cottage without being drowned.” He touched Alyna’s arm and pointed to the administration building. “We can wait out the storm there. Downpours like this don’t last that long. Not usually.”

  “Just like Ryen’s tantrums don’t last long—usually?”

  “I’d wager on the storm being more reasonable.”

  “I wouldn’t wager against you.”

  Even so, hurrying at a pace just short of a run, the two reached the door as the deluge struck, but the projecting roof kept them from more than scattered droplets. Alastar closed the door quickly against the pressure of wind and rain, then turned to Alyna. “We can wait in my study until it subsides.”

  “Or until it’s clear it won’t end any time soon?” Alyna smiled humorously.

  “Either way, it’s your decision.” He began to walk down the hall toward the Maitre’s study.

  “Even though you’re the Maitre?”

  “Especially since I’m the Maitre. There’s too much temptation.” As soon as he’d said those words, Alastar wished he hadn’t phrased the thought quite that way, yet all he could quickly add was, “In power, that is.”

  “You almost had me worried,” returned Alyna dryly.

  “Should I be glad or concerned?”

  “There’s no good answer to that, dear Maitre.”

  Alastar laughed. “I suppose not.” He crossed the dark anteroom and opened the door to the study, which was not that much brighter, given the gloom of the storm beyond the windows. After motioning for Alyna to enter, he followed her, then took the end chair in front of the far end of the desk and turned it, before gesturing to the others and waiting for Alyna to seat herself. He couldn’t help noting the grace with which she did.

  Feeling slightly awkward after sitting down, Alastar finally said, “I was surprised to see you at the dining hall this morning until I saw that Tiranya was the duty maitre.”

  “I don’t always accompany her, but the food has gotten better lately. I was hoping you’d be there.”

  “You had to know I would be there.”

  Alyna laughed softly. “I had good odds. I wouldn’t have come just because she had the duty … but it provided an excuse in case you did eat at the same time.” She smiled wryly. “I like hearing what you have to say.”

  Alastar had the feeling that was not all. “That makes two of us. I like what I say too. Too much, I fear, and too many other maitres, unlike you, seem reluctant to say what they think.” He paused. “What did you want to know? I’m assuming that was one reason why you were there.”

  “A few things. How much danger does the Collegium really face? I received a letter from Zaeryl yesterday, sent by one of his private couriers. He said that Guerdyn and Haebyn have sent out word not to submit tariffs until Ryen agrees not to increase the levels. He also said that some High Holders will take steps against anyone who supports Ryen in that.”

  “A not-so-indirect reference to the Collegium, I take it?”

  “And the army High Command, I would guess. Zaeryl’s not thrilled with anyone, right now, not Ryen, not Guerdyn and Haebyn…”

  “But he’s not willing to defy the High Council, not openly?”

  “He didn’t say that.” She offered a wry expression. “He didn’t have to. He’s very cautious.” She looked at Alastar and waited.

  “Danger? That’s the problem. I don’t know. It all depends on just how determined the High Council is, how reckless Ryen may be, and to what length Marshal Demykalon will support him. The more I talk to Guerdyn and Ryen, though, the more worried I get.”

  “You’ve tried suggesting some sort of compromise?”

  “Twice. The first time the idea was absolutely rejected. I haven’t heard on the second time, but that silence suggests that Ryen, at least, will reject the idea. He insists that tariffs have to be raised to pay for what Solidar needs.”

  “Do you think he’s right?”

  “He is. The army is half the size it was in his sire’s time, not that we need that large an army, but we do need a larger and stronger navy, and there are no funds for that. Ryen says that he doesn’t have enough funds for road and bridge repairs—”

  “Didn’t the Collegium do that once?”

  Alastar shook his head. “All the stone-paved roads in Telaryn were created and paved in the old way. Quaeryt and his imagers did resurface a number of ways here, such as the East and West River Roads, and the ring road around the Chateau D’Rex, but there have never been that many powerful imagers in all of Solidar since then.”

  “Why not, do you think?”

  “Something about the times … and Quaeryt, I think. According to the stories, he created the entire stone river wall on the north end of Imagisle in one imaging. He also destroyed the entire palace complex of the Autarch of Antiago during the battle there.”

  “You’re from Westisle. Did he?”

  “There’s a sunken park there now. Whatever he did lowered a square of ground three quarters of a mille on a side almost ten yards.”

  “Ten yards?”

 
“It’s as though he imaged out that from under the palace and let the whole thing drop. Maybe he even took what he imaged and dropped some of it on top of the palace.”

  “No one could do that.”

  “No one today could do what they did then. They rebuilt the walls of the Chateau D’Rex. You can’t even scratch them with a sharp blade. It will likely stand forever.”

  Alyna shook her head. “You hear the stories, but … you saw that park. No one thinks about the walls or the roads that don’t seem to wear out here in L’Excelsis.”

  “There aren’t any records, either. I’ve been reading the journals of the first chorister of the anomen at the Collegium. He was an undercaptain in the Telaryn army who served under Quaeryt in putting down the Tilboran Revolt…” Alastar went on to relate what little he had learned about the first Maitre. When he finished, at least as far as he had read, he added, “It’s still a mystery why he didn’t want anyone to know all he did. For that matter, it’s clear, at least from the Collegium archives, that Vaelora didn’t either … unless she told things to her daughters that have come down through your family.” Alastar looked to Alyna inquiringly.

  “There’s nothing that I know of. I did ask Father about her, but he said there was nothing, either. I think he was telling the truth about that.”

  Which suggests that he didn’t always tell the truth about everything. Alastar just nodded, before asking, “Do you have any thoughts about that?”

  “Some wives heed their husband’s cautions,” Alyna said with a shrug, not quite convincingly.

  “I get the impression Vaelora wasn’t that type. She married an unknown imager well before … well, he was princeps of Tilbor.”

  “That’s not a bad match for a junior daughter. She was the youngest.”

  “I think there was more there.” As the pounding of the rain began to subside, Alastar looked to the window. “It won’t be long before it’s over … or maybe only a drizzle.” He turned back to Alyna. “The way you say that … you…” He wasn’t quite sure how to finish the sentence.

  “Before it became obvious that Father didn’t have to worry about a match, I was told quite often that I could not afford to be picky.”