Alyna looked intently at him. “You’re exhausted.”
“So are you.”
“Then we ought to get on with dinner … And then get to … get some sleep.”
“We should.” Alastar didn’t comment on her quick change of phrase. He didn’t even smile. Except inside.
Later, after a quiet and less than comfortable dinner of lamb chops glazed in apple mint and cheesed potatoes and fried apples, most likely the best meal that Jienna and the other cook could get together on short notice, Lorien and Chelia retired to the guest quarters.
Alyna and Alastar stood on the front porch.
“I need to be going,” she finally said, “and you need some sleep.”
“So do you.” Once more he gently wrapped his arms around her and held her.
Her arms went around him almost before he finished embracing her.
After a time, she looked up. “We aren’t getting any sleep this way…”
“No … we aren’t. We’ll have to do something about that … soon.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” he said. “We do, right after we clean up this mess. That is, if you’ll accept my proposal.”
She smiled mischievously. “I don’t believe you made one.”
“I’m making it now.”
“I accept, dear Maitre.”
“Then I’ll walk you to your cottage.”
“You wouldn’t have if I’d refused?”
“No … I would have carried you and dropped you on your doorstep.”
“That almost would have been worth it … except you’re too tired and you would have dropped me earlier.” She took his hand.
They walked down the steps together.
40
Alastar was up early on Solayi—the first day of Finitas, the last month of the year. When he entered the study, he couldn’t help but wonder if the date meant anything in the grander scheme of the world and the Nameless … or just happened to be coincidental. Given that he had his doubts about the Nameless, he decided it was merely coincidence. Still … He shook his head and sat down at the desk and began to write, first, the draft of Lorien’s tariff proclamation, knowing full well that Lorien would not have even tried. When he finished that and had barely begun on the general draft of the declaration about Ryentar, the study door opened.
Jienna stood there. “Are the rex and his lady supposed to eat without you?”
“I’ll be right there.” Alastar set aside the pen and immediately rose, following Jienna to the dining room, where three places had been set, with the empty position at the head of the table, and Lorien on the right, Chelia on the left. Neither rose as Alastar entered and seated himself.
“I apologize. I did not realize you were awake. I was working on the two drafts I mentioned yesterday so that we could leave as early as possible.” He looked to Chelia, who had dark circles under her eyes. “I know you would like to return as soon as possible, but the declaration dealing with Ryentar and Asarya needs to be signed and sealed as soon as practicable after we reach the chateau. I’ll also need to have Marshal Wilkorn detail a company of troopers to accompany them to whichever holding you designate.” Alastar’s eyes went to Lorien. “Have you chosen?”
“There’s an older, but quite expansive holding with lands in Montagne.” Lorien gave a sour smile. “Is that far enough away to suit you?”
“That should do. You’ll have to rename it.”
“We should give him some reminder. What about High Holder Regial?”
Alastar refrained from smiling. “That would be satisfactory.”
At that moment, Jienna and one of the primes arrived with platters for the three, lightly browned egg toast, ham strips, and fried apples on the side, with a small loaf of bread for each.
“You’ll have to do with lager this morning, Your Graces,” Jienna announced. “It’s what we have, and we’re lucky to have that, no thanks to the army and their Namer-fired cannon.”
Alastar couldn’t quite hold the smile he felt at hearing Jienna’s humorously tart words.
Chelia actually did smile. “This looks wonderful … and I never did thank you for dinner last night.”
“Yes,” added Lorien. “Dinner was excellent.”
As soon as Jienna left, Chelia looked to Alastar. “It won’t be too long, will it?”
“No. I have no desire to prolong anything, and the sooner this is all cleaned up, the better.” Especially the part with your half brother. “But we do have to finish eating and one draft before we can depart. I would advise eating, because it may be a long day, certainly a long morning.” With that, Alastar took a swallow of lager, and then poured berry syrup over the egg toast before handing the pitcher to Chelia.
After eating, Alastar and Lorien retired to the study, where, once Alastar arranged for the mustering of the imager group to escort Lorien and Chelia, he finished drafting the declaration of partial disinheriting for Ryentar, after considering—and modifying slightly—Lorien’s suggestions.
When they finished, Lorien looked at Alastar. “You realize that Mother will be your lifelong enemy.”
“I would suggest that you tell her that such a course would be unwise … and possibly fatal. You might point out what we know, and what we have already done. If … if nothing untoward occurs, then the Collegium will live and let live. Otherwise…”
“You’re more ruthless than Petayn or even my father.”
“No. I’m only ruthless when imagers and the Collegium are threatened. Otherwise I’m for moderation and practical solutions. Keep that in mind. I tried to resolve matters without violence, until your father ordered the attack on the Collegium. Now … we need to go. There’s little sense in having your wife worry any longer than necessary.” And every reason to deal with Asarya and Ryentar before matters worsen again. Alastar rolled up both sets of papers and tied them up, then walked out of the study. Belatedly, Lorien followed, almost bumping into Chelia, who had clearly been waiting outside in the hall, most likely impatiently.
Alyna was standing outside on the porch, as were the others, along with mounts for her, Alastar, Lorien, and Chelia. Already mounted were Taryn, and four Maitres D’Aspect—Shaelyt, Warryk, Claeynd, and Lhendyr, as well as Maercyl, Akkard, and Belsior, the comparatively large number of imagers because, although Alastar doubted that they would find significant—or any—armed resistance at the Chateau D’Rex, there was definitely the possibility of other difficulties. Alastar noted that the two craters beside the drive had been filled in. He smiled at Alyna and gestured. “Your doing?”
“I had Belsior and Akkard do it for exercise and practice.”
“The seconds and thirds are going to get a great deal of exercise and practice in the month ahead … as will everyone. I hope we didn’t keep you waiting, but we had to finish drafting the document for Ryentar.”
“I thought it might be something like that.” She smiled warmly.
Alastar wanted to hold her, but only took her hand for a moment, before gesturing toward the mounts, then pulled on his riding gloves and walked to the gray gelding, patting him on the shoulder and saying, “You’ve seen a lot lately, fellow,” before placing the bound papers in one of the saddlebags and then mounting.
By the time everyone was mounted, it was nearing eighth glass, and the anomen bell chimed as Belsior led the way over the Bridge of Desires, followed by Alastar and Alyna, riding side by side, and then Lorien and Chelia, followed closely by Shaelyt and Taryn, and then the other maitres, with Maercyl and Akkard in the rear.
Alastar himself felt perfectly fine, even carrying full shields, as if the massive imaging he’d done the day before had actually strengthened him. He looked ahead to the causeway on the west side of the River Aluse, more like a wide wall rising out of a muddy swamp, at least for the thirty yards between the bridge and the square from which he had imaged destruction onto Desyrk and the ill-fated regiment.
He knew from experience that heavy imaging created frost and so
metimes ice, but he’d never attempted such a large single imaging before, and the results had shaken him, although he’d been so exhausted the night before that he hadn’t had a chance to think that much about it. Now … seeing the devastation, he couldn’t help but think about the entries in Gauswn’s journals. You and Taryn destroyed close to two thousand troopers and turned a good chunk of the riverbank into a muddy swamp … and that was nothing …
“You’re looking very serious,” observed Alyna quietly.
“I was thinking about the first Maitre. If the histories are correct, he killed close to a hundred thousand men in three separate battles. That’s fifty times what happened here yesterday … and without Shaelyt I’d have hit the stones of the square, if I hadn’t been frozen solid myself…”
“I told you…”
“I tried not to do too much, but I couldn’t let Desyrk escape.” Alastar snorted, then said more quietly, “Quaeryt must have frozen half of L’Excelsis—well, it was called Variana then.” With those words, he wondered why there hadn’t been a winter effect at Liantiago … or had there been and no one mentioned it for other reasons?
“Be thankful you don’t have to bear that burden, dear.”
“Rebuilding the Collegium will be burden enough.” He turned and grinned at her. “More measuring and surveying for you.”
“That’s not a burden. Not too much, anyway, although…”
“I know. You need better equipment.”
“I can manage. The last thing the Collegium needs to spend golds on is surveying equipment.”
Alastar couldn’t argue with that, much as he would have liked to.
Once imagers neared the West River Road and the local shopkeepers and those outside saw the riders, almost all fled into the shops. Not all that surprising, given the events of the past month.
While bystanders along the way did not flee once the riders headed north and then west on the Boulevard D’Ouest, everyone cleared the road as they approached. Word has definitely spread. He turned to Alyna. “When we get to the chateau, assuming there aren’t other problems, I’d appreciate it if you would accompany Shaelyt and Chelia to find young Charyn.”
“I think that’s a very good idea. Once we make sure he’s safe, I’d like to leave Shaelyt there with him and Chelia … just in case.”
“We’ll most likely be in the rex’s study on the upper level on the east side of the north corridor. There will probably be a guard outside.”
Alyna nodded, but Alastar didn’t miss the hint of an amused smile.
As Alastar turned the gray gelding onto the ring road north of the Chateau D’Rex, some two quints later, he turned in the saddle. “Lorien, Chelia, in just a moment, Shaelyt, right behind you, will place a partial concealment and a shield around you. I don’t expect trouble, but it won’t hurt to be careful.” Alastar had other reasons as well, especially since he wanted to find out some things before revealing the presence of the rex and his lady.
“I can understand that.” Lorien’s voice was still less than pleased, and slightly sour.
Alastar couldn’t blame him. “Shaelyt?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go ahead with the shields and a blurring concealment, just around the two of them.”
In moments, Alastar could make out only that two riders followed him. “Good!” He turned his attention back to the ring road, not that he needed to worry because, at the sight of the imagers, pedestrians, riders, and even wagons continued to hurry away from the group headed south toward the Chateau D’Rex.
When Alastar and Alyna reined up at the foot of the white stone steps leading up to the main entrance of the chateau, Guard Captain Fonteau appeared almost immediately and hurried down the steps. He wore the same resigned expression he had exhibited the first time Alastar had met him.
“Regent Ryentar has matters well in hand, sir.”
“I’m sure he does,” replied Alastar sardonically. “How is young Charyn?”
“He’s fine, sir. I just saw him a quint ago.”
Alastar could almost feel the relief from Chelia, although he did not look back. “That’s good. Very good, especially for Ryentar.”
Fonteau offered a puzzled look.
“Didn’t you notice?” Alastar gestured. “If you’d remove the partial concealment, Maitre Shaelyt.”
Fonteau gaped.
“We took the liberty of rescuing Rex Lorien and Lady Chelia from the fires and explosions at the Anomen D’Rex. They would have been very upset if anything had happened to Charyn … and I cannot tell you how displeased the Collegium would be if anything had happened to him.”
“No, sir. He’s fine.”
“Good. You will escort Lady Chelia, Maitre Alyna, and Maitre Shaelyt to the heir. Immediately. I assume that Ryentar is in the rex’s study.”
“He was a quint or so ago.”
“And Lady Asarya?”
“I believe she is in her chambers or her salon.”
Alastar nodded and dismounted, as did Alyna, then turned. “Shaelyt, you’ll accompany Maitre Alyna. Taryn and Warryk, you’ll be with me. Lhendyr, you’re in charge out here. You and Claeynd are to keep things peaceful. No army troopers are to approach. I don’t expect any, but if they do, use whatever is necessary, and send word to me. If Lady Asarya attempts to leave, restrain her with shields. Rex Lorien and I will likely be in his study.” Alastar extracted the papers from the saddlebag, continuing to survey the steps and the area around the front of the chateau.
As soon as Alyna, Shaelyt, and Chelia departed with Fonteau, Alastar let Lorien lead the way up the outside steps, then up the grand staircase and to the rex’s study. The chateau guard posted outside the study stared as Lorien approached.
“Sir! We thought…”
“I’m quite well,” said Lorien coolly.
“Taryn, you and Warryk are to keep this hallway secure. Use whatever imaging is necessary.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alastar then opened the study door and let Lorien enter first.
Ryentar’s face showed a startled expression for less than an instant before he rose from the desk. “Well … brother, it’s good to see you’re alive and well.” Ryentar offered the warm and welcoming smile that Alastar found so incredibly genuine … and thus all the more deceptive. If Ryel the elder had been that effective, Alastar could definitely see how he had charmed so many people.
Lorien snorted. “Save the smiles for others. I’ve seen enough of them.”
“I’ve been so worried about you, and you’re treating me like I was one of them.”
“Which ‘them’ might you be referring to?” asked Alastar. “Those who tried to assassinate your brother so that you could become regent and eventually rex? Or those who made two unsuccessful attempts at destroying the Collegium? Or perhaps those who murdered most of the senior army commanders? Except … they’re all the same.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ryentar’s face bore a look of total confusion.
Alastar didn’t trust that expression, either. That’s the difficulty with those who are good actors. In the end, you can’t trust anything. “It doesn’t matter if you do, High Holder Regial,” declared Alastar.
“High Holder Regial? What do you mean?”
“Move away from the desk,” Alastar ordered. “The rex needs to sign and seal something.” He handed the bound papers to Lorien.
“You don’t order me—”
Ryentar’s words were the first hint of anger Alastar had heard from the genial-appearing soon-to-be-disinherited second son.
Alastar did not speak, but placed shields loosely around Ryentar and used them to move him away from the desk to the window.
“You can’t…” Ryentar’s words died away as he looked at Lorien.
“I could have you executed,” said Lorien coldly. “You can thank Maitre Alastar for a less fatal solution.”
The genial expression immediately reappeared on Ryentar’s face. “What m
ight that be?”
“You’re getting the grand estate in Montagne, along with the lands in perpetuity for you and any heirs you may have, and the title of High Holder Regial. If you ever approach within a hundred milles of L’Excelsis, your life and your estate is forfeit.”
“That means you can’t ever be on the High Council, unlike your father,” added Alastar.
“My father…” Ryentar looked from Lorien to Alastar and back again. Then he shook his head and smiled. “I suppose that will have to do.”
“Your mother will be accompanying you as well, with the same provisos,” added Alastar. And she won’t be nearly so pleased. Not that Alastar believed for a moment that Ryentar was at all pleased.
Ryentar maintained a pleasant, almost jovial smile, as Lorien settled himself behind the desk and unrolled the two sheets, setting one aside and smoothing the other.
“Your seal is in the drawer on the right,” offered Ryentar helpfully.
“Thank you.” The sarcasm in Lorien’s voice was unmistakable as he opened the drawer and extracted the seal.
Alastar imaged a flame at the tip of the candle wick under the small brazier that held the sealing wax. Lorien had to wait more than several moments before the green wax melted. Then he stirred it with the spoon before lifting the spoon and deftly depositing the circle of wax on the heavy paper. Then he raised the seal, turned it, and breathed on it before making the impression.
“There. Your grant of lands with the conditions. You’ll get the original after the chateau scrivener makes copies.”
“You’re most kind, brother.”
“I’m not. Maitre Alastar is. Don’t forget that, either.”
“I suppose that wouldn’t be wise.”
The study door opened, and Taryn said, “Lady Asarya insists on seeing the rex, Maitre.”
“Then escort her in,” said Alastar. “She certainly deserves it.” He didn’t keep the heavy irony from his last words.
“Lorien! What are you doing?” demanded Asarya, looking at Alastar and then at Ryentar.
“Exiling me to Montagne,” said Ryentar. “As High Holder Regial, no less. I believe you are to accompany me, according to Maitre Alastar.”
Madness in Solidar Page 53
