“That’s more than some High Holders know.” Lorien paused. “At least, you learned something. That’s all I wanted to know.”
There was something about the way his father had said those words that struck Charyn. “You’ve never said much about the exchanges before…”
“You want to know why I am now? Why I question you about it? Because I don’t believe in coincidences. That’s why.”
Coincidences? Charyn had no problem showing confusion.
“It’s a good thing you don’t understand,” Lorien said. “I just received a dispatch from the regional minister of finance in Solis. The factors’ exchange in Solis was burned to the ground over a week ago.” He snorted. “More than a week to let me know. I told Alucar to roast his regional finance minister for that delay, terrible weather or not. I’m supposed to be the first to know, not the last.”
“How … how did it happen?”
“Someone set explosives and used oils. How else?”
“Why would anyone do something like that?” asked Charyn, hoping to learn more.
“Alucar tells me that the High Holders around Solis have been complaining that the factors have been using the exchanges to keep the price of grain and agricultural produce low. When the prices in Solis start to rise, growers from other areas start bringing in grains, especially wheat.”
“But how do growers elsewhere know this?”
“Apparently, the Factors’ Council of Solidar helped establish a system of sending price information over the regial post roads. Over my post roads, no less.” Lorien shook his head. “At least they’re paying for the privilege, unlike the High Holders who want the information without paying for it.”
“But to blow up the exchange in Solis? Who would do that … and why? They don’t store grain there, anyway.”
“That’s a good question, for once. It’s likely some hothead High Holder, but it might be a smaller factor who can’t afford to use the exchanges … or someone who has a grudge against factors.”
“What will you do?”
“What can I do? I don’t know enough to do anything. If it’s a small factor and I blame the High Holders, then the High Council will have more support against me. If it’s a High Holder and I blame an unhappy factor, I’ll have both councils angry.” Lorien glared at Charyn, as if his son might have had something to do with it.
At least, that was what the look implied.
“It’s more of the same,” Lorien went on. “The factors complain about the high-handedness of the High Holders, and the High Holders complain about the greed of the factors. Each group thinks it pays too much in tariffs and that the other pays too little. They all want more without paying for it, and then they blame me. And this explosion, it’s only going to make things worse.”
“I can see that, sir.”
“You only think you can,” replied Lorien. “You can go.”
“Thank you, sir.” Charyn rose, inclining his head, then made his way from the study. You couldn’t have picked a worse time to visit the exchange, but how could you have possibly known?
He was still thinking over the fact that someone had destroyed the Solis exchange as he descended the grand staircase and he began to hear the clavecin being played in the music room. The notes stopped abruptly. After several moments of quiet, the same melody was played again, not quite as precisely, but accurately.
Charyn nodded. The second player had to be Aloryana. Bhayrn would have rushed the tempo.
He continued to make his way to his own chambers, where he sat down at the desk in his sitting room, which doubled as his study.
After this morning, should you really do this?
He smiled wryly. The explosion at the exchange emphasized just how uncertain matters were and why he needed to continue with his plans.
After a short time of thought, he began to write.
Vaelln D’Corps
Marshal of the Army
Marshal Vaelln—
Rather belatedly, it has come to my attention that I know far too little about the structure and the operations of the Army and the Navy. I would like to remedy this gap in my understanding and obtain greater familiarity in a timely fashion, hopefully long before I will need such knowledge. In obtaining such basic knowledge, I would not wish in the slightest to intrude upon your time, but trust that you could arrange a series of briefings at your headquarters with various more junior officers who could enlighten me …
Charyn paused for several moments before dipping the pen in the inkwell and resuming, forcing himself to write deliberately and precisely.
5
On Mardi, Charyn was up early. He had a long day ahead of him. As he prepared to leave his quarters for what would pass for breakfast—bread and cheese or something taken in the kitchen—his eyes dropped to the missive on his desk, the reply from Marshal Vaelln, confirming a series of briefings beginning at ninth glass. He immediately picked it up and slipped it into his jacket, then headed down to the kitchen.
He’d barely stepped through the side door when Hassala, the head cook, appeared. “Lord Charyn … we could serve you in the breakfast—”
“I have a great deal to do today, and I might have to leave the chateau early.” Charyn offered his most winning smile. “Just a small wedge of cheese and a part of a loaf and a little lager to wash it down.”
“Yes, Your Lordship.” The tone of the cook’s acquiescence implied a definite concern for propriety.
“If anyone asks, tell them I insisted.” Charyn strongly doubted that anyone would ask, since what he had requested was hardly extravagant or improper … just not conventional. And it was much earlier than any of his family usually breakfasted. But what he was about to do had to be done early.
“Yes, sir. Be just a moment, sir.”
Before long Charyn was chewing on fresh-baked bread, along with small wedges of white cheese. He finished the last of the mug of lager less than half a quint after entering the kitchen. Then he turned to Hassala, who was trying to hide a frown of disapproval. “Thank you. I do appreciate it.”
When Charyn left the kitchen, he stopped outside the door he had not fully closed and paused for several moments, nodding to himself as he caught Hassala’s words to one of the serving maids. “Don’t know where he’s headed … think any of us dare ask?”
So much the better. He took the side corridor before making his way up the narrow south circular staircase to the study that was his immediate destination, reaching it a good two quints before seventh glass.
Knowing that Norstan was always slightly late most mornings, Charyn didn’t have to hurry in using his keys to enter the seneschal’s study. He also didn’t light the oil lamp on the table desk, nor the one in the polished brass wall sconce. A smaller key unlocked the ledger case, from which he pulled the two ledgers that might be necessary, setting them on the desk. Then he seated himself behind the desk and waited.
At roughly half a quint past the glass, the narrow door opened, and a broad-shouldered and burly figure stepped into the study, shrugged off a brown woolen jacket and reached for the green-trimmed black coat hung on the wall peg beside the door. He had one arm in one sleeve when he noticed that someone was sitting in his chair.
“What are you…” The newcomer broke off as he recognized the sandy-haired young man behind the desk. “Lord Charyn … you gave me a turn there.”
“I meant to.” Charyn smiled. “Go ahead and light the lamps. We need more than a little illumination here. Then take a seat.”
The seneschal finished donning his coat, but lit both lamps before sitting in front of the desk. “Might I ask…?”
“I think I’ll start by doing the asking.” Charyn smiled coolly. “I’ve been following the ledgers for a while. Charging the accounts fifteen coppers for a bushel of potatoes? Isn’t that a bit much, Norstan? They were only running eighteen a bushel five years ago when all the crops failed from the droughts and floods. From what the ledgers show, you’ve pocketed mo
re than ten golds from the potatoes alone in the past year.”
“Your Lordship…”
“Spare me either reasons or excuses. Seneschals are supposed to profit a bit. Everyone expects that, even my father. I do think, if it came to his attention, that he would find the amount by which you are profiting, shall we say, a bit excessive.”
“I’ve served your father faithfully and loyally, sir.”
“You have served him faithfully, and you’ve been loyal. Given what you’ve pocketed, it would be a disgrace if you hadn’t. Oh … you’ve been careful, but on your official stipend, I don’t see how you could have bought that rich bottomland north of Lake Shaelyt that your tenants farm for you.” For all his casual mannerisms, Charyn continued to watch the seneschal.
“You don’t understand. It’s not just the prices, but the quality…”
“I understand that some palms have to be greased occasionally, but…” Charyn frowned. “We haven’t talked about flour. The miller can buy wheat for less than twelve coppers a bushel, mill it, and sell a barrel of flour that cost him less than thirty coppers in wheat for six silvers. He profits handsomely. So why do the ledgers show we’re paying nine silvers? Sometimes ten?”
“The millers are charging more than a mere six silvers,” protested the seneschal.
“I’ve looked at the prices paid for wheat over the past four months. It’s never been more than twelve coppers. I’ve also had someone check the prices for barrels of flour. The highest has been seven silvers, and that was early in Agostos before the harvests came in. I could see five coppers or even a silver a barrel. You do have your expenses, but three silvers over the millers’ prices?” Charyn shook his head. “You can take a small cut, Norstan. So long as you don’t get greedy, we’ll get along just fine. There is one favor I expect in return.”
The seneschal looked fatalistically at Charyn.
“I need to know everyone who meets with my father … Everyone.”
“I only know those who come to the regial study…”
“Those are the only ones I care about.” That wasn’t entirely true, but that was all Norstan needed to know.
The seneschal’s brow knit.
“You’re to tell me what you know about each one. Do you understand?”
“Ah … yes, sir.”
Charyn could see a certain despair. “I’m not plotting against my father. In fact, I’m trying to keep him—and me—from being cheated too much since this is likely to be my inheritance in the future, and I’d like it to be healthy. I also want to make certain he’s not being plotted against. I’ve also taken steps to see that, if anything happens to me, what I’ve discovered goes to both my father and Maitre Alastar. You might recall…”
Norstan nodded glumly.
“Norstan. You know your position. You do it well. I’d like you to keep doing it. You’d like to keep doing it. My father would like you to keep doing it—unless he found out how much you’ve been taking. This way is best for everyone.” Charyn smiled warmly. “Just give me a daily listing of his meetings. Anything else we’ll talk about.”
“I already provide him with a copy of the next day’s meetings each evening.”
“That will be fine, with the names of those with whom he also met added to the next day’s schedule.”
Norstan nodded, less than enthusiastically.
Charyn’s next stop was at the music room. He’d planned to step inside and perhaps practice a little, but he could hear Palenya playing, since no one else in the chateau played that well, and it was too early for visitors.
He was still standing there, listening, when Bhayrn appeared.
“Do you actually like what she’s playing?” asked the younger brother in a low voice. “Or is it just because she’s the one playing?” A sly smile appeared on Bhayrn’s face.
“I like her,” murmured Charyn. “I also like the music.”
“How can you like something you can’t play? Don’t tell me you can. You’re not that much better than I am, and Aloryana’s better than either of us, and she can’t play that.”
Charyn started to reply that he was still better than Aloryana, then paused before he finally said, “I still like what I can’t play.” Then he turned and slipped away, still listening as he made his way toward the study of Alucar, the Minister of Finance.
Alucar offered an amused smile as Charyn entered the small study. “After over a week away, you’ve decided to come to the accounts. The rest of your life must be exceedingly dull.”
“Unlike yours. I heard about the explosion at the Solis exchange. Have you heard anything more?”
Alucar shook his head.
“Why did it happen, do you think?”
The Finance Minister shrugged. “I could guess, but it wouldn’t be a good idea. The exchanges make trading more effective. When things become more effective, there are those who gain and those who lose. Sometimes … the losers try to remove what caused them to lose.”
“The High Holders, you think?”
Alucar shook his head. “It could be them. It could be small holders who don’t produce enough grain or goods to use the exchanges. It could be a smaller factor, or a High Holder who doesn’t manage his lands well. Any of those … or perhaps someone else. I’ve asked for more information, but I doubt anything more will be discovered that hasn’t already.” He paused. “Is that why you’re here?”
“No. I’d planned to come even before I heard about Solis. Hearing that, though, made me think that I might find life even more difficult, or worse, if I don’t learn more about what you do.” That was true enough, but not the only reason for Charyn’s efforts to learn more about the regial accounts and tariff system … and where the golds came from and where they went. “What would you recommend that I study today?”
Alucar lifted a small volume, one he had been clearly prepared to present to Charyn. “It’s the compilation of qualifications for regial tariff collectors, the actions they are permitted to take on their own, those that require approval of a regional justicer, those that require approval of the high justicer, and those that are forbidden under any authority.”
Charyn took the volume. While small, it did seem to contain a large number of pages to cover what Alucar had just described.
“If you have questions, I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from asking them until you finish the section that you are studying. You will see why after you read a complete section.”
The implication behind those words was clearly an implication that only a dullard or idiot would not see. “Thank you, Minister.”
Alucar just nodded and returned to reading the sheet before him, most likely an appeal, a writ of forfeiture, or a request for appointment as a tariff collector.
Charyn seated himself at the small table desk in the corner, again one he had personally carried in, and opened the volume, beginning to read.
… in the year 393 A.L., following the reorganization of the collection of tariffs for all Solidar, as set forth under the Codex Legis, as revised by his grace and sovereign Rex Regis, Lorien, the following procedures, requirements, and associated definitions are hereby set forth …
Charyn took a long slow and quiet deep breath and forced himself to continue reading. It will be useful. In time, and in the meantime, he could discover information of a more immediately applicable nature.
When Alucar left the chamber, “for just a moment,” some two quints later, Charyn went to the shelf that contained the ledger with the tariff records for the previous year—407 A.L.—and slipped the second volume out, carrying it to the desk where he was working. He did not immediately open it, but continued studying the small volume containing tariff procedures, knowing that when Alucar returned, he would have some questions about what Charyn was reading. He’d barely reseated himself when the minister returned.
“What is the principal requirement for a tariff collector?” asked Alucar, almost idly.
“That he be of good character an
d be without debts or other forms of indebtedness.”
“Do you think that sufficient?”
“No, Minister. There have been men who appeared to meet that criterion who still abused their position.”
“That is why there are tariff inspectors.” Without saying more, Alucar returned his attention to the papers before him.
While Charyn had hoped to look through the ledger he had removed from the shelf for high holders and factors delinquent or late in paying tariffs, and for those who received large amounts from the regial coffers for work or supplies provided, it was clear that Alucar was watching him relatively closely, and the last thing he needed at the moment was for the minister to say anything to his father.
So he kept reading for a while, then looked up and said, “There is a sample of a tariff ledger page here, sir, with the notation preceded by a double star. There isn’t any explanation of that notation.”
“The double star indicates that the tariff was paid, but that the factor appealed the amount.”
“How could I find out the reason for the appeal?”
“If you were me, you would look at the appeals ledger,” replied Alucar dryly, as if Charyn should have known that fact.
Charyn didn’t recall Alucar mentioning the appeals ledger, although the minister had gone over the possible grounds for appeal of a tariff. “Where is that kept?”
“On the second shelf of the corner bookcase. You’re not ready to look into that yet.”
Charyn continued through the small volume, and was more than halfway through when Alucar cleared his throat.
“I’m going to close the study, Lord Charyn. I need to go down to go over some matters with the clerks. It would be best if you came back later.”
“I could stay.”
“I’m sure you could, but I’d prefer that you not remain in the study alone. That might give the wrong appearance, possibly even to your father.”
Charyn understood exactly what Alucar was not saying directly. “Can I leave the procedures book on the table desk?”
“That would be fine.”
Charyn rose, and as Alucar turned, stepped toward the door and deftly replaced the volume he had earlier removed. “Thank you for helping me learn what you do and what you oversee.”
Assassin's Price Page 5
