Madness in Solidar

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “I got it. That’s one reason why I’m here. The Collegium is still attempting to find a middle ground.”

  “There is no middle ground, as you put it. The High Council will not accept any increase in tariffs. Neither will the High Holders. The ones who have to come to agree are the rex … and you, Maitre Alastar.”

  Alastar smiled coldly. “I don’t think you understand, Guerdyn. Ryen is prepared to bring force against the High Holders if you do not accept his higher tariffs. He has new cannon and more than seven thousand troops here in L’Excelsis.”

  “And you will not stop him? How very kind of you to inform us.”

  “Why should we? The High Council certainly won’t support the Collegium willingly, and there aren’t enough golds in the Treasury to pay the army, the Collegium, and everything else that is required.”

  “Then all of you should require less.” Guerdyn made a sound between a sniff and a snort. “You can bluff all you want, Alastar. We will not accept any increase.”

  Alastar pointed to the crystal vase on the side table. “Is that terribly valuable?”

  “Not especially. It’s Council property.”

  “Good.” Alastar concentrated. Instantly, the vase vanished, and five crystal knives were buried in the marble of the table.

  Guerdyn looked amused. “Parlor tricks.”

  “Look at your jacket.”

  Guerdyn looked down. A sixth dagger rested in a strap directly above his heart.

  “Be careful,” cautioned Alastar. “It’s sharper than any blade you have. You might notice that the knives are buried in the marble tabletop. Marble is much harder than flesh.”

  “I have no doubt that you and other imagers could kill me. Then what? That won’t change the minds of the others. You don’t dare kill enough High Holders to change everyone’s minds. None of you have the nerve. And if you did, all Solidar would turn against you.”

  Alastar remained silent. He’s half right.

  “You see? If you intended to kill me, you would have.”

  “Are you going to agree to an increase in tariffs?”

  “Of course not. Why would we? Now that I’ve made that clear … again … either kill me, or I’ll show you to the door.”

  “I can find my own way.” Alastar paused. “Tariffs will be higher, and they will be paid.”

  “Words, Maitre. Words. Only deeds change what is.”

  Alastar smiled. “You’re right about that, but you’ve forgotten one thing. Good day.”

  Guerdyn didn’t say a word as Alastar left the study.

  Cyran was waiting when Alastar returned to the administration building at two quints past second glass.

  Alastar looked from Cyran to Dareyn. “Find Maitre Alyna and have her join us.”

  Then he motioned for Cyran to go into the study. “I’ll be with you in a moment.” Turning to Dareyn, he asked, “Have we heard from Factor Elthyrd?”

  “He will see you at his factorage at eighth glass tomorrow morning. I have directions in case you haven’t been there.”

  “Thank you. I haven’t. I’ve always met with him at the factors’ council building. Send Maitre Alyna in when she arrives.”

  Dareyn nodded.

  “What happened?” asked Cyran after Alastar entered the study and seated himself behind the desk.

  “What I expected, but I’ll wait until Alyna’s here before we get into that. How did the work on the avenue go?”

  “We actually finished almost a hundred and fifty yards by ninth glass. It looks good. Very good. Alyna’s a strong imager.”

  “I believe you suggested that. Did you see any patrollers or chateau guards?”

  “Not a one.”

  “What about troopers? Did you see any, especially around the Chateau D’Rex?”

  “I can’t say that we did.”

  “Any large covered wagons?”

  “No…”

  “I suspect that’s how Demykalon is moving cannon. Or something else equally disturbing.”

  “I still don’t see how this makes sense.”

  “I’ll tell you both in a moment…” Alastar looked up as the study door opened.

  Alyna walked in. “I came as soon as I got word.” Her steps were graceful but determined.

  Alastar managed not to smile as he gestured to the chair beside Cyran. Once she was seated, he began. “Thank you. This won’t take long. Not too long.” He paused. “Everyone thinks of Ryen as Rex Dafou, the mad ruler. They’re wrong, but it’s not in our interest to correct them. Ryen is anything but mad. He’s egotistical, short-tempered, highly irritating, and has a great number of other unpleasant traits. But he’s not mad. He’s been unable to get an increase in tariffs for years, but he’s finally come up with a plan to get them.”

  “Why now? Why not earlier?”

  “Because of Demykalon and me. Maitre Fhaen was likely ill much longer than he let on, and he simply would have refused any demand from Ryen to force the High Council to accept higher tariffs. Even Fhaen would have refused to kill High Holders to that end … and there was no way Ryen could force Marshal Ghalyn to move against the Collegium, not with Fhaen being a cousin of sorts.”

  “How did you know that?” asked Cyran.

  “Fhaen told me. He said he could trust Ghalyn, but not to ever trust Demykalon. He wouldn’t say why.” Alastar looked to Alyna. “You wouldn’t know, would you?”

  “No. Zaeryl doesn’t trust him either, though.”

  “The problem facing the Collegium is simple … and impossible. As I hinted this morning, if we act against the High Holders without provocation, before long no imager will be safe. If we don’t act, then no imager will be safe from Ryen’s wrath, not with Demykalon just wanting an excuse to strike at the Collegium.”

  “We might as well act, then,” said Cyran.

  Alastar shook his head. “The Collegium can survive Ryen’s wrath, but we cannot survive if all the factors and High Holders are against us.”

  “He’s right,” said Alyna. “High Holders would understand and accept an attack in return. They might not like it, but they would come to accept it, especially if the attack were directed at individuals who created harm.”

  “So we have to wait until we’re attacked? Students … staff … innocents…” Cyran shook his head.

  “There are less than five hundred people on Imagisle,” replied Alastar. “A few more than a hundred imagers, and maybe thirty-five to forty are good enough to inflict damage on attackers, and that’s if they’re close. There are fifteen hundred High Holders in Solidar, and Demykalon has something like seven thousand troopers just outside L’Excelsis, less than three milles away.”

  “Then why don’t we remove Ryen? He’s the problem.”

  Alastar shook his head. “The problem is that, while he flies into rages, and can be mad, intractable, stubborn, and stupid about some things, he’s also right about the High Holders. Remove him now … and Lorien will be in a worse position … and so will we.”

  “Then … what do you propose?”

  Alastar told them.

  When Alastar finished, Cyran swallowed. Alyna nodded sadly.

  “That could be a high price,” Cyran finally said.

  “It will be, but that way everyone pays, and that means we can survive. We can take some steps…” He went on to describe the precautions he had already begun to implement.

  After they left, Alastar took out some of the paper he’d imaged and began to write a letter to Factor Elthyrd, one that he would deliver personally. He tore up three drafts before he had something that he liked.

  Factorius Elthyrd—

  As you may have heard, matters dealing with tariffs have not gone well. I have thus far met with High Holder Guerdyn upon three occasions, attempting to see if some middle ground might be reached that would be acceptable to both the High Holders and the rex. At my last meeting, yesterday, High Holder Guerdyn insisted that no middle ground exists, and that the rex would have to accept
that, regardless of the needs of anyone else, including the factors, the Collegium, the guilds, or the merchants who need protection from pirates. He also said that if tariffs were insufficient, then everyone else would just have to do with less.

  Although it is true that Rex Ryen wishes to impose higher tariffs than necessary to resolve shortfalls, the failure of the High Council to recognize the need to fund the real needs of Solidar remains a vexing problem. Of concern to the Collegium is that in our efforts to suggest a middle ground, and one that would benefit the factors and merchants of Solidar, we may well have angered both the head of the High Council and Rex Regis as well. We trust that neither will behave intemperately, but should they do so, the Collegium will be forced to act in its own interests and in the interests of all those others, including the factors, to assure that neither the rex nor the High Council will do so again and to further assure that a middle course of moderate action is adopted and carried out.

  In the interests of moderation and compromise, I remain

  Alastar D’Imagisle

  Maitre D’Image

  He reread the letter, then folded and sealed it, and went on with the other preparations for what he feared was inevitable, beginning with a short meeting with Obsolym, and then one with Cyran, and finally with Petros.

  In between those meetings, he received a short note from Factor Elthyrd, agreeing to meet Alastar at eighth glass the next morning.

  By the time he finally reached the residence, well after dinner, he was tired, but hardly sleepy, and he took refuge in reading a few more pages of the chorister’s journal. Four pages were almost enough to make him sleepy, showing just how tired he was, when he came across the first interesting words in more than a hundred pages.

  … the problem with great power, the Maitre said, is that, to be believed, it must be exercised. If it is not exercised, people forget its greatness, but when it is exercised, they complain that they did not know. Or they say that they had no idea how great it was. He also said that unless future Maitres understood that and used great power occasionally, the Collegium would eventually fail …

  Alastar leaned back in his chair. How could someone so great and so perceptive be totally forgotten? Even by the imagers who followed?

  After a time, he marked his place and closed the journal.

  23

  On Meredi morning, Alastar ate as soon as the dining hall was open, although he knew that Shabrena would have served him whenever he appeared, but he disliked taking advantage of his position unless it was actually necessary … and not a personal convenience. As soon as he downed the last drops of his second mug of hot tea, he rose, straightened the heavier gray imager jacket he had chosen because of the colder weather, and made his way to the armory, where he hoped to find Cyran.

  The senior imager looked away from the rack of sabres that would likely never be used in any full battle and toward Alastar. “I can’t say I’m happy with your plan, especially heading out and working on the avenue first.”

  “Only for two glasses. Then you head back, unless I send word for you to return earlier. You’ll take Alyna, Taryn, Shaelyt, Mhorys, and Narryn, and three thirds. After whatever work on the avenue you can do, you all come back to the Collegium. Eat and take a break until sometime before fourth glass, then lead your group, except for Alyna, who will be with my group, out over the old south bridge, under a concealment until you muster somewhere just south of there. Check with me before you leave so that I can tell you what else we’ve found out.”

  Cyran nodded.

  Alastar waited, then asked, “Do you have a better idea?”

  “No. That’s one of the reasons I’m not happy. It seems … wrong … when you know what’s going to happen…”

  “What happens if we act first? Or if it’s a bluff to get us to act first?”

  “I know you’re right, but I don’t have to like it.”

  “Make sure you’re ready if Demykalon sets up any other forces to the south.”

  Cyran nodded, then asked, “You’re sure Akoryt can handle matters here? Obsolym is senior, you know?”

  “That’s a risk I’ll take. Akoryt is a stronger imager, and he won’t dither. I’ve put Obsolym in charge of dealing with the staff in the outlying areas because he knows them better. He seemed fine with that.” How fine is another question, but it’s better than the alternatives. “We’ll move the rest of the mounts and imagers we need well before fourth glass.”

  “Do you really think Demykalon will take out the bridges?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s the first thing I’d do. If he doesn’t, we’ll have more options.” But less visible provocation.

  “I still don’t like this.”

  “Neither do I, but we won’t know until something happens. All we know now is that Demykalon sent what appear to be cannon and troopers east in the direction of the chateaux of Nacryon and Guerdyn. If Ryen only attacks the High Holders and didn’t plan anything against us—or Demykalon didn’t—and we act, then how long before there are no imagers to speak of left in Solidar?” asked Alastar, adding in answer to his own question, “A generation at most.”

  “But you want me and Alyna to head out and work the roads…”

  “That’s something that needs to be done.” For other reasons as well. “And it’s also a way to have imagers off Imagisle in case Demykalon doesn’t respect Ryen’s deadline.”

  “I can see that.”

  “But you don’t like it, and neither do I.”

  “We agree on that.” Cyran offered a crooked smile.

  After leaving Cyran, Alastar returned to his Collegium study. Once there, he left the door open and settled behind his desk … waiting, first for Dareyn, then for Akoryt. After that, he’d have to ride to Factor Elthyrd’s factorage, thankfully not that far away.

  Akoryt appeared even before Dareyn.

  Alastar motioned the red-haired maitre into the study. “Leave the door open.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When Akoryt settled into the chair in front of the desk, Alastar could see the circles under his eyes. “A long night? Have your imagers discovered anything?”

  “More than either of us would like,” replied Akoryt. “At least five canvas-covered wagons have left the army High Command. So have at least two companies of troopers, never more than a squad at a time. There are two wagons and a squad of troopers in one of those areas off West River Road that you marked off on the map, the point that juts into the river about half a mille north of the north end of Imagisle. Another wagon and more troopers are in the old rendering yards just north and west of the Sud Bridge.”

  So much for Demykalon ignoring Imagisle. “Could they tell what’s in the wagons?”

  “No. Not without revealing themselves. They’re not that good with concealments. But the wagons were heavy like the others, and each took four dray horses.”

  “That sounds like cannon and ammunition to me.”

  “That was my thought.”

  “Have you arranged for Khaelis, Lhendyr, Warryk, and three thirds to be ready to ride out with me and Maitre Alyna this afternoon?”

  “Yes, sir. They’ll meet at the stables at three quints before fourth glass.”

  Alastar nodded. “There’s one other thing. You need to talk to Petros about moving the remaining mounts if there’s any hint of an attack.”

  Akoryt smiled faintly. “I already did, sir. He’ll have them saddled as well.”

  “Good. I’ll need you to keep me informed about any other movements of Demykalon’s forces. Interrupt me if necessary. Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Probably, sir.” Akoryt smiled. “But I don’t know what it is. If I find out, you’ll know.”

  Alastar couldn’t help but smile in return. “Then go and find out.” He followed Akoryt out of the study because he had seen that Dareyn had arrived.

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning,” although it may not be so good an afternoon or ev
ening. “I’ve asked Maitre Akoryt to find out more about several urgent matters while I’m visiting Factor Elthyrd. Whenever he returns, assuming I’m back, even if my door is closed, please interrupt me and let me know when he’s here. Also, in case I’m not here later today, you’re to make sure that everyone is out of the administration building by two quints before fourth glass, and they’re not to return until tomorrow morning. The only one who can change or modify those orders in my absence is Maitre Akoryt.”

  “What about Maitre Cyran?”

  “He can also, but it’s unlikely he’ll have returned to Imagisle by that time. That’s why Maitre Akoryt will be in charge in our absence.”

  “Do you really think someone’s going to be dumb enough to attack the Collegium, sir?”

  “They’re not stupid. It’s just that they don’t understand what imagers can do.” Or will. “Because they don’t, they just might. It would be better if they did understand, but if they did, we wouldn’t have to be so worried.”

  “Maitre Fhaen worried when Demykalon became marshal.”

  “What did he say?” Alastar was curious because he didn’t recall Fhaen saying much of anything, except not to trust Demykalon.

  “He said that Demykalon thought he was the rex, not Rex Ryen.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “Not exactly, sir.” Dareyn glanced around the anteroom, clearly uncomfortable. Finally, he added, “He said his cousin wouldn’t have taken his stipend quite so early, except … But he didn’t finish his sentence, and he never said what the reason was, even when I asked. He said it was better I didn’t know.”

  Better Dareyn didn’t know? Better for whom? “Do you think Maitre Fhaen knew he was not well before he told anyone?”

  “Yes, sir. He didn’t walk as fast, and he was out of breath if he walked more than a handful of steps. Maitre Obsolym had to know, too. He watched Maitre Fhaen like a sun eagle.”

  Alastar nodded. It all made sense. Too much sense. “Is there anything else?”

  Dareyn worried his lips, tilted his head slightly, then said, “No, sir. Maitre Fhaen wasn’t one for talking much. Not around me or anyone who wasn’t a Maitre D’Structure.”