“There wasn’t a mark on my father. The healer said that there was no sign of poison, but his face was contorted, as if he’d flown into a fit of rage. He was a difficult man.” Lorien paused for several moments before continuing. “I have my own ideas about what has happened and why. I’d like yours, Maitre.”
“I trust you know your father wished to raise tariffs on the High Holders and factors.”
“He’s been … he was angry about that for over a year. All this, it was just about tariffs?”
“The tariffs were also representative of his concerns about the diminishing power of the rex. When it became clear that the High Council would not accept an increase in tariffs of two parts in ten, a copper on a half silver, he insisted that the Collegium assassinate every member of the High Council. He said that if we did not change the Council’s mind by fourth glass yesterday, the Collegium would feel his wrath. I proposed a compromise increase of four coppers on a gold. He refused. The High Council refused any increase. The cannon opened fire at about three quints past four yesterday. We stopped the cannon fire.” Alastar hesitated. “There is one aspect to this that is not known. Last week, I removed a senior imager from his duties for lack of competence. Not in imaging, but in dealing with students. Desyrk deserted the Collegium and sought out his brother, one Commander Chesyrk. Marshal Demykalon placed Chesyrk in charge of the cannon that bombarded Imagisle. Desyrk used his skills to place two cannon far closer to the Collegium, and we did not detect them until considerably later. In the fighting Commander Chesyrk disappeared. He may have been killed. Former Maitre Desyrk escaped.”
“That has to be your problem, Maitre.”
“It is and will be, but I did not wish to conceal anything about the attack from you.”
“Someone entered the chateau early this morning and may have even been in this study.”
“I was. I told your father about the attack. He said we deserved it for not carrying out his orders. I suggested he accept the compromise. He refused. I told him that the Collegium would not pay for his stubbornness, and that one way or another he would accept the compromise increase. He flew into a rage. I did not attempt to save him from his own folly. Perhaps I should have, but I did not. I left and paid a visit to Marshal Demykalon. He said that he had ordered the destruction of the Collegium.” Alastar shrugged. “That wasn’t acceptable. After that, I visited High Holder Guerdyn. He also refused the compromise. I removed him and went to visit High Holder Vaun. We had an uncomfortable talk. He agreed that, if you would propose the compromise of four coppers on the gold, the High Council would likely accept. They will also accept modest increases, as necessary, in the future. What else would you like to know?”
Lorien looked at Alastar. Finally, he said, “I thought my sire was cold. You … Maitre…” He shook his head.
“What would you have had me do? Assassinate every High Council member and spark a rebellion? Destroy your chance for ruling? Turn Solidar back into warring states? Destroy the Collegium?” Alastar looked coldly at Lorien.
“What am I supposed to do now? Become your puppet?”
“No. You’re supposed to become a reasonable rex. I could have worked out a compromise for your father. Over a number of years he could have gotten what he wanted. He just could not get it in a year. We’ve laid much of the groundwork for you. I really don’t want your headaches. I have enough of my own. In addition to supporting you and making sure that the High Holders don’t get out of hand, I’ve got to rebuild Imagisle and change the way imagers are trained. The Collegium has to be restructured so we don’t need as much support from you. That will be to the benefit of both you and your successors and the Collegium and my successors. On top of that, I’ve got a renegade imager, and I’ll have to keep an eye on Submarshal Petayn.”
“Why should I trust you in the slightest?” asked Lorien.
“Because our interests coincide, and no one else’s do. Without the Collegium, within years the marshal of the army would be rex. The Maitre of the Collegium can’t be rex because the people, from High Holders all the way down to crafters, would revolt, not to mention the army. The High Holders want a weak rex who won’t interfere with what they want. The factors want a rex who will keep the High Holders from strangling them and pirates from stealing their ships and cargoes, but they don’t want to pay the tariffs necessary for that.”
“I’m supposed to deal with all that?”
“With the support of the Collegium … yes.”
“But you didn’t support my father—”
“There’s a difference between support and suicide, Lorien. A great deal. Your father wanted matters his way and no other way. What he wanted would have destroyed Solidar and him with it in a few years, if not sooner.”
“It was sooner, much sooner.”
“But Solidar is still here for you to rule. It wouldn’t have been if the Collegium had followed his orders.”
After another long silence, Lorien asked, “What would you advise I do about the army?”
“Make it smaller, much smaller, and increase the size of your navy. Other lands and pirates are a much bigger threat. You also might think about changing the patroller system so that the patrollers aren’t beholden directly to the factors. If they report to a minister who reports to you, there’s not as much need for an army within Solidar.”
“Why not to you?” A hint of bitterness tinged the words of the new rex.
“For exactly the same reason that the Maitre of the Collegium cannot be a ruler. The first Maitre saw this, and the reasons and the problems have not changed.”
Lorien started to speak, then stopped, and abruptly tilted his head and laughed sardonically. “That’s why you could do nothing until Demykalon attacked you, isn’t it?”
“We can only take drastic action”—at least any action that can be attributed to imagers—“in self-defense.”
“And you let your students die?”
“I moved everyone out of the buildings and to places as safe as possible. We still had deaths and injuries—and several buildings totally destroyed, as well as two bridges. What would have been the reaction if we had acted first?”
Again, Lorien paused … then nodded slowly. “I had not thought of it in that fashion. For the time being, I think we should meet every day, perhaps at the fourth glass of the afternoon.”
“I would agree to daily meetings. Why in the afternoon, though?”
“First, I do not think as well as I might in the morning. I need to think well in dealing with you. Second, we will know what has happened during the day, and I can prepare for the next day when I am closer to my best.”
Alastar nodded.
“Maitre, I understand that there will be some times when these meetings may not be possible, but those times should be few.”
“I would agree to that, as well.” And for now. Alastar had no doubts that Lorien would wish to see him less and less over time.
“Then … until tomorrow at fourth glass … unless there is something else I should know.”
“Not at present.” Alastar inclined his head. “I will see you tomorrow.” He offered a pleasant but not effusive smile before turning and leaving the study.
The guard captain was waiting for him outside in the corridor and accompanied him as Alastar walked to the grand staircase. Halfway down, he spoke. “Maitre, sir … might I ask if you can offer any explanations of why matters have turned out as they have and what we might need to prepare for here at the chateau?”
“I’m only one person involved in a complicated situation, Captain, but I will tell you what I can,” without undermining the chances for a more permanent resolution. “Rex Ryen became so enraged at the refusal of the High Holders to accept his tariff terms, and only his, that he ordered the Collegium to assassinate the entire High Council, if necessary, until they agreed. We refused when he would not attempt to reach a middle ground. He ordered the army to bombard Imagisle. We stopped the bombardment, but not before
two buildings were destroyed and a number of people were killed and injured. After that, I met with the rex. He still refused to compromise and flew into a rage that killed him when I informed him that the Collegium would still not assassinate the entire High Council. He died of that rage. I then met with the marshal. He tried to pull a sabre on me. I used it to pin him to the floor of his study. I then rode and met with various members of the High Council. It appears as though the High Council and Rex Lorien may reach a compromise on increasing tariffs. As for the chateau here, I would maintain your guard and refuse entry to all army members except senior officers, and only one or two of those at a time. If you need assistance, send a messenger to the Collegium.”
Surprisingly, at least to Alastar, the captain only nodded before saying, “I had guessed that something like that might have happened.” He stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Rex Lorien is far more temperate than his sire … but he may not be as well informed as he might be.”
“I will do my best to provide what I can. I trust you will do the same.”
“The best that I can, sir.”
“You sound as if you might have some difficulties,” observed Alastar quietly.
The captain glanced around, then murmured, “Lady Asarya and young Ryentar … they’re very different from Lorien.”
“I’ve heard that Ryentar takes after his father. I know nothing of the Lady.” That wasn’t quite true, but Alastar wasn’t certain how much to believe what Desyrk had said, not that the renegade imager had said much and his own single meeting with her had definitely left him wary. After a hesitation, he said, “Have you ever heard of a man named Desyrk?”
“I do not know anyone of that name, Maitre.”
“But you’ve heard of him?”
Again … the captain glanced around before speaking. “I have overheard the name.”
Alastar guessed. “He’s been in the chateau, then?”
“That I do not know. I just heard the name.”
“From whom?’
“I could not say. It was dark.”
“A man or a woman?”
“It was murmured, whispered. It could have been either.”
“Where in the chateau did you overhear this?”
The captain did not reply.
“Perhaps on the southeast circular staircase?” That was a guess on Alastar’s part, but he wanted to confirm or eliminate the totally private staircase serving the private quarters of the rex and his wife.
The captain nodded. “That is truly all I know.”
“Thank you. No one else will know.” Even with the man’s almost despairing look and the slightest emphasis on the word “know,” Alastar wondered if he was telling Alastar all that he knew, but it seemed clear that the captain was not about to say more. The fact the Lorien had shown no reaction to the mention of Desyrk’s name was also interesting.
The two walked without speaking to the entry doors, where the captain halted. Alastar stepped out into the gray afternoon, a dampish wind blowing into his face. Even from the top of the stone steps down to the paved entry road, Alastar could see Shaelyt’s relief when the junior master caught sight of him. As he walked down the adamantine white stone steps that were too high and steep for a regial chateau, he noticed that only two guards remained on the steps, each at a side at the top.
“Sir?” asked Shaelyt as Alastar approached.
Alastar managed not to smile when he saw the junior master’s inquiring look. He took the gelding’s reins from Belsior and mounted before replying. “Rex Lorien was quite civil. Submarshal Petayn was less so. We’re headed back to the Collegium. I need to meet with all the maitres.”
“Not just the senior maitres?”
“No. All of you.”
Once they were on the ring road, Alastar kept his eyes out for trouble, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary, just people walking, some riders, wagons, and a coach or two. As if nothing had happened. And for most people, almost all people in Solidar, Alastar realized, nothing had really changed.
He also couldn’t help but overhear a few fragments of the murmured conversation between Neiryn and Belsior.
“… should have known better…”
“… an old-time Maitre…”
“… about time…”
Alastar just wished it hadn’t been up to him to act like an old-time Maitre. There was always a price to pay for exercising power, but he didn’t want to think about that at the moment. Even if you’ll regret it later? He was far more concerned to find that Desyrk had been in the Chateau D’Rex, and likely on more than one occasion if his name had been mentioned even once. But why? And who had allowed or invited him there? Ryen? Alastar shook his head. He could think of only one or possibly two possibilities, and both seemed totally improbable, especially given Ryen’s temper and outbursts.
The guard captain had clearly wanted Alastar to know about Desyrk, or his name, and that raised the question of why. If the captain had been telling the truth, and he did not know more about Desyrk … then why had he been afraid? And if afraid, then why had he even admitted hearing Desyrk’s name? He was no closer to having an answer when he reached the Collegium stables than he had been when he had left the chateau, but no sooner had he dismounted than Cyran appeared, a worried expression on his face.
“How did it go?”
“Largely as planned. Can you gather all the maitres possible, including the Maitres D’Aspect, and bring them to the Maitre’s dwelling. I’d like to tell everyone at once so that there’s as little misunderstanding as possible.” There would always be some misunderstanding. That was something Alastar had learned young.
“How successful?”
Alastar shrugged, not wanting to say too much in public yet. “Rex Lorien and the High Council look to be on the way to a compromise. Acting Marshal Petayn is very displeased, but has agreed to return all army squads and cannon to headquarters.”
A smile, both wry and of relief, appeared on the senior imager’s face. “That’s better than I’d hoped.”
“All the maitres need to hear what happened, most of it, anyway … and Dareyn.” Alastar dismounted and led the gelding toward the stable boy, to whom he said, “Take good care of him. He’s been a long ways today.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll gather the maitres,” said Cyran. “Alyna’s likely already there. We’ve been doing what repairs we can. We’ve managed everything small. That leaves the administration building, the dining hall, and the bridges … not to mention some craters here and there. Akoryt’s worked with Dareyn to salvage what little survived the fire.”
“Good. I’ll see you shortly.” Alastar turned and began to walk. He could still smell the acrid odor of burned wood. The smell got stronger until he reached the ruins of the two buildings, then persisted, if less strongly, as he neared his dwelling. Alyna was indeed standing on the front porch, as if she had been waiting for him. He stopped short of the steps, taking in her worried expression. “Is something wrong?”
“Are you all right?”
“Physically. It’s been a long day. Cyran’s gathering all the maitres so that I can tell everyone at once.”
She nodded. “That’s good. Everyone’s been worried. I worried … too.”
Alastar had the feeling she’d meant to say more, but had tempered her words.
“Thank you. I appreciate your worry and concerns.”
Alyna looked away, just slightly. “Before everyone gets here, I’d like you to look at the side wall. I’ve repaired the shutters and replaced the glass as well as I could.” She smiled, although Alastar could see the darkness under her eyes. Then she walked down the steps and moved to his left toward the west end of the house, stopping short of a small crater beneath the stone wall, where it appeared an explosion had ripped away the ground almost a yard deep, revealing the large gray stone foundation blocks.
From what he could see, the outside wall showed no damage whatsoever. “It’s as though it was nev
er struck.”
“There wasn’t any damage at all, except to the shutters and the windows.” Alyna pointed to the crater. “From that, there shouldn’t have been much of this end of the dwelling remaining.”
Alastar frowned. He wasn’t thinking as clearly as he should be. After a moment, he realized what she was suggesting. “You think the dwelling was imaged into being in the same way the Chateau D’Rex was?”
“Not the same way, but by the same imagers. It’s almost four hundred years old. Does it look it? I’ve never really studied the walls here before.” She smiled wryly. “I don’t imagine anyone comes here and just looks at that wall. Are the stones worn or chipped or scratched? Why weren’t windows on the other sides of the house shattered?”
“They imaged it to stand forever,” mused Alastar. “I wonder why. Nothing else here was imaged that solid.” He studied the windows and their casements. “I can’t tell what you did and what you didn’t.” Then he looked to her. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Cyran and I decided it was necessary. Where else is there for people to meet and for you to work? Besides, the damage was small … as I said.” After the slightest hesitation, she added, “You need to eat. Your eyes are pinkish. There are cold meats and cheese in the kitchen.”
“Pinkish?”
“I’ve noticed that’s the way they look when you need to eat or drink.”
What else has she noticed. “With all the imaging you’ve done, you need to eat as well. We’ll need to hurry. It won’t be that long before the others arrive.”
“They can wait a few moments for you to eat, if necessary.”
That might have been, but Alastar was hungry. Once they reached the kitchen, where the sideboard held a platter with meat and cheese, with a warm loaf of bread nearby, he was ready to tear into the food when he noticed Jienna standing near the rear door, grinning.
“It’s about time you ate, Maitre.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank Maitre Alyna, too. I’ve been cooking all day. Most went to the students.” Jienna smiled again. “Now … eat. Both of you. There’s lager in the pitcher.”
Madness in Solidar Page 36
