Madness in Solidar

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Asarya turned back to face Alastar. “You wouldn’t do that to a grieving widow, would you?”

  “I might have, were you grieving for Ryel the elder or even for poor deluded Desyrk, or the thousands of dead troopers, or officers and dead imagers, but since your grief doesn’t extend to them, but only yourself.”

  “Desyrk?” questioned Lorien.

  “Another of your mother’s conquests,” replied Alastar, adding, “You’ll also need to request a company from Marshal Wilkorn to escort them both to Montagne.”

  “I’m about to draft that right now,” replied Lorien.

  “You wouldn’t … I cannot believe that my own son…” Asarya’s words were quiet.

  “Your older and less-favored son. The one you conspired to replace.” Lorien’s words were cold. He picked up the pen.

  “Why not? You look like your father. You act like your father. You’ll end up as worthless as he did.”

  Lorien paled and his jaw set. “For that—”

  “No,” said Alastar. “That’s exactly what she wants. The last thing she desires is a long life hundreds of milles from L’Excelsis, thinking of how close she came. If you execute her, deserved as it may be, that will soil your name more than hers. Right now, all the blood is on the hands of the Collegium. It’s best to leave it there.”

  Asarya’s eyes turned cold as she looked at Alastar. “You think I’ll stay there in a hill country holding?”

  “If you want to live. Frankly, I’d just as soon you attempted to leave, or to escape on your way there. That would make matters so much easier. Both for Rex Lorien and for the Collegium.”

  “Perhaps I won’t give you that satisfaction.”

  “That’s your choice, Lady Asarya,” replied Alastar.

  Asarya smiled and turned to Lorien. “You know … in the long run, now it doesn’t matter at all.”

  Lorien looked puzzled for a moment.

  Even Alastar was … until he realized what she meant. “In that respect, you’re perfectly correct, Lady Asarya, but it also points out that some means to an end are acceptable, ethically and to the Nameless … and some are not.” He looked to Taryn. “Escort her back to her quarters, and have Warryk guard and shield the door until a detachment of troopers arrives.” Or until we can make other suitable arrangements.

  As Asarya and Taryn left the study, Ryentar was not quite smirking, until Alastar glanced at him. The smirk vanished.

  “You’ll also be under guard,” Alastar said.

  “I didn’t expect any less,” replied Ryentar. “Under guard until I reach my gilded prison.”

  Alastar thought of pointing out that Ryentar had no idea how privileged he was, but realized that any words like that would mean nothing to him.

  The door opened, and Alyna stepped into the study, her eyes sweeping the room before centering on Alastar. “Everything’s settled with Charyn.”

  “Good.”

  “And here?”

  “Lady Asarya just left. High Holder Regial will be leaving shortly for protective custody.”

  Alyna’s eyes turned to Ryentar. “You know, I’ve never trusted pretty boys. You’ve given me another reason why.”

  Alastar smiled faintly.

  41

  In the end, between making various arrangements and then waiting for Wilkorn’s troopers to arrive, Alastar and Alyna, and all the others from Imagisle, did not return to the Collegium until well after fourth glass. By the time Alastar and Alyna had turned over their mounts to the stable boys outside a shed roughly imaged into existence by Petros and his seconds and thirds and walked back to the Maitre’s residence, the sky had darkened, the wind had picked up, and fat droplets of rain were splatting on the paving stones of the walk leading up to the porch. The two hurried up onto the covered porch.

  “It’s been quite a day,” mused Alastar as he paused, not really wanting to go inside and explain everything, although, he realized after a moment, it was Solayi afternoon, almost evening, and Dareyn was most likely not there. In fact, for both Dareyn’s sake and his own, he hoped the dutiful second was not. He turned to look back toward the anomen and along the green.

  “Quite a month,” said Alyna, taking his hand, but standing beside him and looking south along the occasionally still-cratered green, bordered by the cottages of married imagers, some of which had already been at least partly image-repaired. “I’d say it would be one never to be forgotten, but people always forget.”

  “Unless it’s special to them.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s been special to me, but not just…” He shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

  “I might, but I like to hear it.”

  “You’ve made it special.”

  “So have you.”

  Neither spoke for several moments as the rain began to fall more heavily, pattering on the porch roof and on the steps and stone walk.

  “You’re still thinking about Lorien and Chelia, aren’t you?” asked Alyna.

  “I am,” Alastar admitted. “In some ways, Lady Asarya was successful, in spite of everything.”

  “You mean because Lorien married Ryel’s daughter, Charyn’s bloodline includes Ryel as well as Lorien’s mother and father? Does that bother you?”

  Alastar laughed softly. “Not that much. No matter how worthy the end, some means of achieving it will destroy its worth.”

  “That’s why you had to let Ryen and Demykalon and Petayn attack the Collegium.”

  He nodded. “I still don’t like the fact that it had to go that way, but I couldn’t find another solution, not in time. Another question that puzzled me was why Asarya was working with Desyrk. I can understand why Desyrk wanted me dead. I can even understand why Asarya did, but was Desyrk the only way she could find of removing me and Lorien?”

  “Dear … who else besides Desyrk would be foolish enough, and egotistical enough, to think he could prevail against you?”

  “He and Asarya very well might have. Without all the information you provided I wouldn’t have known where to look and what to look for.”

  “You’re kind.”

  Alastar laughed and shook his head. “As I told you once, I’m not that kind. I try to be as fair as possible.”

  “You’re kinder than you let on, if with an imaged iron fist behind the velvet glove. You could have had both Ryentar and Asarya executed. And Bettaur, too.” Her voice turned more serious. “He’s Ryel’s son, too, isn’t he?”

  “How did you know?” Alastar paused. “I don’t know for certain, but he looks so much like both Chelia and Ryentar…”

  “After I saw them both, I decided he couldn’t not be. It also explains a few things.”

  “Such as Fhaen’s excessive protectiveness?” Alastar shook his head. “The elder Ryel must have been quite a charmer.”

  “Power and charm make most men extremely attractive to most women. I prefer fairness and power.” She smiled. “You’re also handsome in a way that doesn’t remind me of pretty boys.”

  “I’m glad that—”

  She turned to him. “You’ve also been kind enough to let me decide when. That’s now. The other explanations can wait.” She put both arms around his neck and drew him to her.

  42

  On Lundi morning, some two quints before seventh glass, Alastar stood outside on the porch of the Maitre’s residence, waiting for Alyna, Akoryt, and Bettaur and Taurek. Just another detail to straighten out before you brief all the maitres. The early morning definitely felt like winter was around the corner, especially with the wet raw cold that resulted from the rain of the night before and the bitter northwest wind. He could have waited inside, but he would have paced back and forth. Besides, he could watch Alyna for longer.

  After dealing with Bettaur and Taurek, he’d have to conduct a meeting for all the Collegium maitres, since he had opened the seniors’ meeting to all maitres so that he could brief them all in detail on what had happened both on Solayi and earlier. While Akoryt an
d Cyran knew most of that, even they didn’t know everything, and some of the more junior maitres knew very little except what they’d seen in the two attacks on Imagisle. Alastar also wanted everyone to hear all the facts at the same time, not that each wouldn’t take away a different impression. He just hoped those impressions would not be too different.

  He smiled as he saw four figures walking up the stone walk on the west side of the green, one of them markedly smaller than the other three. He was still smiling when Alyna reached the steps of the residence.

  “You look happy this morning,” she said with a smile.

  “So do you.” Alastar nodded to Akoryt and the two thirds, then gestured toward the front door. “We’ll meet in the study.”

  Once everyone was inside the study, with the door firmly closed, Alastar turned to the two thirds. “Because of the attacks on the Collegium and the obvious fact that the detention cells have been effectively destroyed, neither of you served your full time in detention. Waiting until the new administration building is complete and then requiring completion of that time seems rather ludicrous at this point. It would also be a waste of your talents. Therefore, you will serve in another fashion, and successful completion of that service will result in your restoration to full tertius status and privileges.” Alastar turned to Bettaur. “With one exception in your case.”

  He paused, then resumed, “Any failure during that service will result in an immediate hearing before me to determine your fitness to ever become a full imager.” Alastar looked at Taurek. “Failure for you includes, far from exclusively, I might add, use of imaging against others, although personal protection shields are allowed and encouraged, or any use of physical force against others. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alastar turned to Bettaur. “I am very much aware of your tendency and past acts in manipulating others for personal gain and to injure others, either through words, personal charm, notes, and various forms of misrepresentation, not to mention covert use of imaging. And even the use of oil on the shoes of other student imagers.” Alastar paused as he watched the young man try to conceal his surprise, then said, “Unlike in the past, everyone will be watching you. If you attempt any of those, any of them, you will also face me in a hearing—and that could happen any time until you are qualified as a maitre. In that sense, you are on probation until you are deemed worthy to be a maitre. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Bettaur’s voice was subdued.

  “You both will work at imaging every day under the direct supervision of Maitre Alyna, or in her absence, the direction of Maitre Akoryt or any maitre I may designate. If any maitre has the slightest difficulty with either of you … and that includes notes, plots, schemes, or rumors, you will face a hearing.” Alastar smiled coolly and looked straight at Bettaur. “You did see what happened to Maitre Desyrk, I believe.”

  Bettaur swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” Alastar turned to Akoryt. “Would you like to add anything?”

  “I think you’ve covered everything.”

  Alastar looked to Alyna.

  “Yes, I would.” She turned her black eyes on Bettaur. “You have great personal charm, and you could be a good imager. In fact, you could become one of the more important imagers in the Collegium in time. That is, if you work for everyone’s good. Or … you could also turn out exactly like Desyrk—except you wouldn’t live that long, because I detest spoiled pretty boys who rely on charm and manipulation rather than work to develop their skills and talents.” Her voice was like ice as she finished.

  Bettaur actually paled.

  So did Taurek, Alastar noticed.

  The study was silent for several moments before Alastar spoke. “Have we made matters clear enough?”

  “Yes, sir … and Maitre Alyna,” Bettaur said quickly.

  “Yes, sir,” said Taurek almost simultaneously.

  “Good,” said Alastar. “You will wait here for Maitre Alyna during the maitres’ meeting in the dining room. You will begin by assisting her in the rebuilding of the Collegium, which will likely leave you exhausted enough that the temptation for any sort of mischief should be greatly reduced. You will also follow her instructions in all matters dealing with imaging and the Collegium.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Once Alastar closed the study door and stood in the hallway with Alyna and Akoryt, he added, “I would appreciate it if they were required to image to the point of exhaustion, and that such imaging require perfection.”

  “Those were already my thoughts,” replied Alyna.

  Akoryt nodded. “Bettaur will still bear watching. I’ll talk to all the maitres about it.”

  “That would be good,” said Alastar.

  “If you’ll excuse me for a bit—until the meeting?” asked the red-haired maitre.

  “Of course.” Alastar refrained from smiling, although he appreciated Akoryt’s sensitivity.

  As Akoryt headed for the front door and the porch, Alastar did smile … at Alyna. “I’m glad we share the same views.” After a pause, he asked, “Do you think we got the point across?”

  “If we didn’t, they will deserve what they will get.”

  “Now … for the maitres.”

  “In a quint.” She offered a mischievous smile. “Might I prevail upon you for a quick tour of the upstairs?”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  They returned to the front hall just before the anomen bell chimed seventh glass, and entered the dining room behind Gaellen, who turned his head as he entered. “I’m sorry, sir, but I had to redo the splints on Kaylet’s wrists. It took longer…”

  “Today … we have a little time,” Alastar replied cheerfully.

  Once all the maitres were seated around the table, Alastar stood so that all of them could hear him. “I felt that all of you should know the complete story of what has happened over the last several weeks … or as complete a story as I’ve been able to piece together. Some of what I’ll tell you has an element of supposition. It has to, because those who could tell us are dead. There were several factors that combined to create the mess we have just survived. First, Ryen felt as though he had been played by Maitre Fhaen and the Collegium, and that he had been handing golds over to us with no value in return for years. As prone to anger as he may have been, as I’ve said earlier, he was absolutely right about that. But he was so angry and impatient that he was unwilling to give us any time at all to remedy that problem. He told me bluntly that Fhaen had advised him badly, and that he would not take the same advice from me. The High Council refused to accept the possibility that tariffs needed to increase. It also felt that the Collegium would do nothing, since it had done nothing to show its power in well over a hundred years.

  “Then there was Lady Asarya. She was angry with Ryen, and for reasons we do not need to discuss, favored her younger son over the elder, perhaps because Lorien resembles his father as well as for other reasons.

  “Add to this distasteful brew Marshal Demykalon, who felt, with some justification, that Solidar was not being governed as wisely as it could be. He felt that, if he could destroy or even weaken the Collegium, then he could eventually use his position as marshal to either rule through Ryen or Lorien or supplant them entirely. In his anger and fury, Ryen tasked Demykalon with using enough cannon fire to force the Collegium to assassinate enough of the High Council to get his unrealistically high tariffs accepted. Demykalon agreed to this order because he thought he could weaken the Collegium, although he knew the High Council would never accept a tariff increase of one copper on a half silver. No one could accept a raise of one part in five in a single year. But I believe, from what he said, that he thought he could work out an arrangement with the High Council to become rex with a token increase in tariffs. He had already increased the number of regiments in the army above that set forth in the charter. In pursuit of his own ambitions, he promoted Chesyrk to commander and gave him the orders to bombard the Collegium. It
can’t have been by chance that he assigned the one senior officer in the entire army who he was certain would carry out those orders, because Desyrk had fled to him with tales of his demotion and my supposedly unfair treatment of him.

  “I had no idea that Desyrk knew Lady Asarya, or that she had such hatred for her husband and her elder son, but with Ryen and Demykalon dead, she saw her opportunity. I doubt we’ll ever know all the details, but she clearly enlisted Chesyrk and Desyrk. Desyrk was furious at me and the Collegium, and Chesyrk felt that he’d been passed over and marginalized by both Demykalon and Petayn. Chesyrk had been a favorite of Marshal Ghalyn, who often took him to the chateau to brief Rex Ryen. There he met, most likely in passing, Lady Asarya. Desyrk was handsome and charming. She was attractive. Then Demykalon became marshal, and Chesyrk was no longer a favorite and possibly felt he might not even be promoted to commander.

  “I can only surmise that the two brothers, with prompting by Lady Asarya, told Petayn that they’d capture the anomen, not try to destroy it, and remove Lorien as rex. They’d make Ryentar regent for young Charyn, and Petayn would continue as marshal.”

  “That wasn’t the real plan at all,” said Alyna.

  Alastar shook his head. “Desyrk wanted his brother to be rex. He would have liked that for himself, but egotistical as he was, he knew that wasn’t possible. The next best thing was for Chesyrk to take over the army. The use of Antiagon Fire in the anomen to kill both Lorien and Chelia—that’s what they had in mind—would point the finger at the Collegium, and the army would be able to hunt down imagers—or drive any survivors into hiding, or into becoming a hidden adjunct to the army, the way Desyrk had become, and that would have made the marshal of the army the most powerful man in Solidar and the rex little more than a puppet…” Alastar paused, letting the impact of what he had said sink in before continuing. “When Taryn, Shaelyt, and I saved Rex Lorien and Lady Chelia, and when we all destroyed Chesyrk and the troopers attacking Imagisle, Lady Asarya did not know that we had survived the Antiagon Fire in the anomen, and she immediately announced Lord Ryentar as regent for young Charyn.”