Madness in Solidar

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “I’m fine. What about you?”

  “A little tired. Other than that…” Alastar paused, then glanced around, looking for the third. “Chervyt!”

  “Back here, sir.”

  Alastar glanced over his shoulder. “You’re not injured, are you?”

  “No, sir. I don’t think I could raise a shield right now, though.”

  “You did when you needed it. Move back up the road a hundred yards or so.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We ought to do that also,” suggested Alyna, pointing to where the concealed cannon had been. Less than twenty yards ahead of them, low flames began to grow amid the wooden sections of the collapsed shops.

  Still looking for signs of troopers or Desyrk, Alastar turned the gelding, moving more into the center of West River Road, empty of others, except the imagers. “Desyrk must have exploded everything in hopes of destroying us.”

  “I think that’s what he did,” replied Alyna. “I just don’t think he was where it hurt him.”

  That, unfortunately, made sense. Desyrk wasn’t the type for self-sacrifice, even seeking revenge.

  “He can’t have gone far,” said Alastar.

  “That may be,” answered Alyna dryly. “But if he’s holding a concealment, how do you suggest we find him?”

  Alastar did not speak, but imaged powder-like dirt at a height of three yards, like a blanket, over the space in front of the ruined shops and north and south of that as well, then watched to see if it revealed anything. The dirt settled evenly, showing nothing. “Now, we’ll head for the alley.”

  Moments later, the sound of hooves on stone, coming from the alley behind the silversmith’s shop where Alastar had reined up, suggested someone departing in haste. Alastar shook his head. “There’s no way to catch him now.”

  “You don’t think that’s a ruse?”

  “Since when has he ever stood up directly to those he thinks are more powerful?”

  “You don’t think much of him.”

  “Not after the way he acted in dealing with Taurek and Bettaur. Do you?”

  “I never did. He’s another lazy pretty boy.”

  Alastar glanced at the burning remnants of the shop that had held the two cannon. While he likely could have imaged out the fire with water or sand, he wasn’t about to waste the energy, not when he and Alyna would need to image-repair one of the bridges even to get to the Collegium. And when there still might be other surprises.

  Alyna followed his gaze. “It might not spread too far.”

  “And it might, but at the moment, that’s something the locals will have to take care of.” Alastar felt callous saying that, but he didn’t know how much more imaging might be required, and for the past weeks, if not years, no one in L’Excelsis or elsewhere in Solidar had exactly been helpful to the imagers. But can you blame them? He thought about extracting the water bottle from his saddlebag before he recalled that it was empty. Instead, he concentrated.

  A rain of wet sand and water blanketed the flames. Even before the sandy rain stopped falling, Alastar’s head was throbbing. He wished he had more lager. You shouldn’t have done that. Except he remembered a small cot and a family no one had helped.

  Alyna extended her water bottle. “I have some left. You need it more than I do.”

  Alastar didn’t argue. “Thank you.” He finished the lager in her bottle and returned it. “That helps.” He thought his headache was throbbing slightly less. He hoped that wasn’t wishful thinking.

  “I’m glad you did that.” Abruptly, she turned her head and gestured southward. “Here come Cyran and the others.”

  Alastar followed her gesture, then called, “Chervyt! Meet Maitre Cyran and tell him I’d like to have him join us here.”

  “Yes, sir.” With that, the third urged his mount southward.

  While Cyran, Taryn, and the junior maitres and thirds rode toward what remained of the Bridge of Desires, Alastar surveyed what he could see of Imagisle. A wall of thick gray smoke rose from the center of the Collegium, either from the administration building or from the dining hall, if not both. A thinner plume rose from somewhere along the green, most likely from one of the maitres’ cottages.

  Alastar was still taking in the obvious destruction when Alyna spoke.

  “They were aiming at all the places you might be.”

  He thought about denying or downplaying that possibility before replying. “It does look that way, but taking out the Maitre won’t bring down the Collegium.” Not now.

  “Perhaps not, but it would weaken it greatly.”

  “We have to make sure it’s never in this position again.”

  “I’m sure Vaelora and Quaeryt felt the same way about the need to maintain the strength of the Collegium.” Alyna’s voice was dry.

  “I stand reminded … and corrected,” replied Alastar in an equally dry tone. “I do think we need to make some changes to the structure and procedures we use at the Collegium.”

  “Those will help.”

  “What you’re saying is that it still depends on the imagers of the Collegium.”

  “Hasn’t it always?”

  Alastar offered an abrupt laugh. Then, in the fading late-afternoon light, he looked northward along the West River Road at the five imagers, leading a line of something less than twenty horses, heading south, some with bundles tied to saddles. He glanced south to see Chervyt easing his mount in beside Cyran. Then his eyes turned eastward toward Imagisle again. He hated to think how much damage Desyrk had created. All because he didn’t want to understand what was necessary and put his own pride above everything else. His lips quirked into a lopsided smile. Haven’t we all done that … or been tempted to?

  When he turned his gaze south again, he had to frown. Less than a quarter mille south of the Bridge of Desires was a small open hill behind what looked to be a mill of some sort. The hill provided a perfect vantage point and would easily have held five or six cannon. Why didn’t Desyrk place his cannon there? Because it would have been too hard to get them there? Or he didn’t see the possibilities? Whatever the reason, Alastar was more than glad that the army hadn’t taken advantage of the hill.

  Cyran rode quickly toward Alastar and Alyna, then reined up and looked directly at Alastar.

  “We silenced the battery to the north before they did much damage.” Alastar turned in the saddle and pointed to the still smoldering shop, although the flames seemed to have gone out. “They had two cannon hidden there. We didn’t see them until after we dealt with the battery on the point.”

  “Someone used a concealment to bring them in,” added Alyna.

  “Desyrk?” asked Cyran. “I wouldn’t have put it past him, the little frigger.”

  “Most likely,” answered Alastar, “but we never saw who it was. Whoever it was had strong enough shields to block red-hot iron needles until I crushed his shields. We heard him ride off down the alley. How did you do?”

  “We lost two—shrapnel went through Mhorys’s shields and concentrated rifle fire took out Nuasyn as well. There might have been some army survivors, but we didn’t see any.”

  Alastar shook his head. He was sorry about the army deaths, and he hated to lose imagers, yet it could have been worse. Belatedly, he recalled that Nuasyn had been a student third.

  “Nuasyn had practically begged to be included,” Cyran added. “He had stronger shields than any of the thirds who’ve finished their instruction. That’s why I agreed. I shouldn’t have let him come.” He shook his head. “We had some trouble even before we could get close to the guns. They’d filled the gaps in the wall with old masonry and stones, and when we imaged that out, the rest of the walls collapsed and we had to image away stones and rubble to get close enough to see the cannon. There were six of them. Nothing’s left of the south bridge.” He looked toward the damaged Bridge of Desires.

  “We’ll need to image repairs to that center span,” Alastar said. “We’ll all need to help with that.”


  “It might take a little time. We’re pretty tired.”

  “We’re all tired,” said Alastar. “We’ll do it as we can, but we need to get to the Collegium as soon as possible.”

  24

  Even as tired as the master imagers were, by each imager repairing or replacing a section, or part of one, less than two quints passed before they had repaired the center span of the Bridge of Desires enough so that they could cross it and return to Imagisle.

  Alastar did not attempt to assist, not after Alyna had looked at him and said, “Let the rest of us do it. You need to recover to do what we cannot.” Then she had looked at Cyran and spoken exactly the same words. After that, she imaged the main support for the center arch.

  This time, Alastar could see her sway slightly in the saddle and note that she had paled, despite the fading light immediately following sunset. He announced, “And that’s enough imaging for you, Maitre Alyna.”

  She looked as if she might protest, then nodded. After that, Alastar, Cyran, and Alyna watched as the junior masters added supports and sections. Some of the thirds replaced the paving stones at the end.

  Once Alyna and Cyran were convinced that the bridge repairs would hold, Alastar formed up the imagers in single file, just in case those repairs were not what they might have been. Then he rode over to Cyran.

  “What is it?” asked the Maitre D’Esprit. “You have something in mind.”

  “We ought to post a couple of maitres on our side of the bridge … just in case.”

  “You really think Demykalon would send troops to Imagisle?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’m not convinced.”

  “What about one maitre, say Taryn, with two thirds? They could ride for help if they see anything?”

  “That makes more sense.” Especially since Taryn doesn’t have a wife and children to worry about. “Thank you.”

  As Cyran turned his mount and headed toward Taryn, Alastar called out, “Glaesyn!” and waited until the older third eased his mount close to the gray gelding.

  “Yes, sir?” replied the third, his voice slightly wary.

  “Once we get across the bridge, you’re to ride north to the park and find Maitre Akoryt or whoever is in charge and have him meet me near what’s left of the administration building.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Khaelis led the way to the bridge approach, followed by Alastar and Alyna, then the junior maitres, with Taryn and Cyran near the rear, followed by Coermyd and Akkard, leading the mounts bearing the bodies of Mhorys and Nuasyn. Behind them were two other thirds, leading the string of captured mounts.

  Alastar and Alyna rode without speaking, and Alastar studied both the river and Imagisle as he neared the center of the bridge. He thought that the smoke from the area of the green had died away, but in the growing dimness of twilight, the flames from what looked to be both the administration building and the dining hall stood out, and the smoke there was thicker, although the light wind from the northwest looked to be carrying it over the river and across that part of L’Excelsis to the east of the River Aluse.

  “Desyrk could have totally destroyed the bridge,” Alyna said quietly, her words barely reaching Alastar.

  He turned in the saddle and replied, “He had to know he wouldn’t have that much time. He wanted to destroy as much of the Collegium as possible.”

  “He targeted your study. He wasn’t as good on aiming at the Maitre’s house. That’s likely because his eyesight isn’t that good and there aren’t any tall and large landmarks near it.”

  “I can’t imagine why he was after me.” Alastar’s tone was dryly sardonic.

  “What will you do if you find him?”

  “Blind him and put him before a hearing again.”

  “And if you can’t blind him? Or capture him?”

  “Whatever’s necessary to make sure he’s never again a danger to the Collegium or Solidar. He’s likely wounded or killed at least some imagers or staff. I hope most of them followed the plan and got away.”

  “Some won’t have listened.”

  “I think I mentioned that you’re more skeptical than I am.” And that skepticism comes from the background of being from a High Holder’s family and living for years in L’Excelsis.

  “I never disputed that, Maitre. In fact, I believe I was the one who suggested it.”

  “I believe you did.” Alastar kept his voice light, then returned his attention to that part of Imagisle just beyond the bridge, but he did not see much damage except for where one shell’s explosion had gouged out part of the shoulder to the eastern approach and several paving stones.

  Once they crossed the bridge, Taryn and two thirds halted at the approach, and Glaesyn left the group, riding north toward the park. Alastar just hoped, again, that Akoryt had been able to evacuate everyone before the shelling had begun. As they reached the boulevard flanking the central green, he looked toward the Maitre’s dwelling, where he could see that shutters had been ripped off the windows on the lower floor of the western end of the building, and several windows shattered. There were also several craters short of the porch, and to the west of the dwelling, but he didn’t see any sign of fire.

  Only one of the cottages appeared to have taken a shell, the third one, on the west side of the green, which Claeynd and his family occupied. On the other hand, even from the far end of the green Alastar could see that little remained of either the dining hall or the administration building, except smoke and flames and perhaps some sections of walls. He didn’t see any sign of fire from either the anomen or the stables. They weren’t interested in upsetting the Nameless or hurting the horses. For some reason, that thought amused him in a dark way.

  He reined up well short of the flames still consuming the remnants of the administration building and the dining hall. Before him was utter destruction. Most of the walls of both structures had been reduced to piles of rubble. All that remained standing were some few sections of the stone walls, all of them showing damage. Although the acrid odor of burning wood and all sorts of other substances filled the air, the smoke was less than Alastar expected, most likely because the flames were subsiding and the light wind continued to carry the smoke eastward. The south end of the student quarters had collapsed, but nothing had caught fire there, it appeared. Not yet, anyway.

  He saw no imagers and no one else. Since the fire did not appear to be spreading, he saw no point in trying to put it out, especially since most of the imagers, including himself, were tired, if not exhausted. He turned the gelding and addressed the imagers. “Those of you with families can seek them out. They should be in the north park. I may have to recall you; so please don’t leave Imagisle, and don’t have your families leave either. It won’t likely be a good idea in any case. Matters will likely get worse off the isle, at least for a while.”

  “Worse?” asked Warryk. “How could anywhere else be worse?”

  “We’ve removed the immediate threat to the Collegium. Rex Ryen has still named us his enemy. We can protect each other far more effectively here than you will be able to do on your own off Imagisle. The High Holders aren’t exactly pleased with us, either.”

  “What did we do—”

  “Warryk!” snapped Alyna. “If you weren’t listening when the Maitre explained it, I will. For years, all the Collegium did was to take golds from the rex. Those golds came from the High Holders and the factors. The rex got nothing from those golds, and neither did the High Holders and factors. No one likes greedy beggars, especially if those beggars are imagers. If you don’t understand that, then you deserve what’s waiting for you across the river.”

  The ice in Alyna’s voice chilled Alastar, and he wasn’t even the target. Warryk seemed to shrivel in his saddle.

  “I think the Maitre and Maitre Alyna have explained enough,” added Cyran. “Those of you without families remain here. We have more than enough to do.”

  As the junior maitres sorted themselves out, Alastar turned to Alyna, who h
ad drawn her mount up beside hm. “You were quite effective. That’s exactly why you’re going to be in charge of rebuilding the Collegium.”

  “I am?”

  “Do you know anyone else who’s better qualified among the imagers? And after your very effective comments to Warryk, I don’t think anyone’s likely to question you.”

  “I’m an imager, not a builder.”

  “You’re more of a builder than anyone else. If you can find someone else to design a new dining hall or a new administration building, that’s fine. I’m going to be very involved in a few other matters.” Such as dealing with Ryen, Demykalon, Desyrk, and Guerdyn and some other High Holders.

  After a moment, she nodded. “I can see that.”

  At the sound of hooves, Alastar turned as Akoryt rode up, alone, likely on Glaesyn’s mount. Akoryt’s face looked white in the uneven light cast by the few remaining flames consuming the last of the burnable parts of the two buildings largely leveled by the combination of shelling and fire.

  “How bad was it?” Alastar braced himself for what Akoryt might report.

  “It could have been worse,” replied the Maitre D’Structure slowly. “Two seconds were killed because they disregarded instructions and went back to their quarters to get something. They were running by the administration building when the first shells hit. One other was wounded slightly. There are several other minor injuries, and two serious ones. Gaellen is doing his best with them. There are two student thirds missing. Seconda Thelia believes that they wanted something from your study. She overheard them talking about the founder’s sabre. She came to tell me, but they’d vanished…”

  The founder’s sabre? Why would they want that? Or even to save it? With that thought, Alastar missed the next few words Akoryt uttered.

  “… of them—Johanyr, interestingly enough—is quite good with concealments. Or he was, if he was caught inside when the cannonballs hit the administration building.”

  Johanyr? “What about Taurek and Bettaur?”