36
When he left Norstan and headed for the study on Lundi morning, Charyn was still feeling cheerful, perhaps because there were no letters or dispatches waiting for him, and Norstan had no additional requests for meetings. It might also have been because he’d had a very quiet Solayi, with a morning spent with Palenya, and time to actually work on learning the Farray nocturne, and although he could see that it would take a great deal of effort to learn to play it smoothly and accurately, he’d still enjoyed the practice.
Because it’s something where you can hear the results … unlike matters of petitions, tariffs, and council? He checked his wallet again, making certain he had the golds he needed, then stepped into the study.
As seemed to be Howal’s wont—or sense of duty—the imager was already at the conference table.
“Did you enjoy your time off, Howal?”
“I worried some, sir, but I did. I came back last night.”
Charyn nodded. “In a bit, a Factor Cuipryn will be here. Norstan thought I should see him. I’d appreciate your keeping an eye on him, closely, until we know more.”
“I can do that.”
“After that, we’ll be seeing a toolmaking factor I’ve known for a time. His name is Paersyt. He’s developed a steam device, an engine that might be able to be used for many things. Just listen carefully. This afternoon, Factor Weezyr will be here. He owns the Banque D’Aluse.” Charyn picked up the three sealed envelopes on the corner of the desk. “I’d wager these are more condolences.”
“That’s a wager I wouldn’t take.”
Charyn smiled wryly and slit open the first envelope before sitting down, then the second and third. He read each quickly. He’d been right. “You can work on these, Howal, while I read a few more petitions.” He wasn’t looking forward to those, either, but the sooner he went through them, the sooner he’d be done. Until more arrive.
“Factor Cuipryn, sir,” announced Sturdyn, shortly after eighth glass.
“Send him in.” Charyn stood and waited.
The man who entered the study wore a brown jacket and trousers of good quality, but with a certain wear. His sparse brown hair was shot with gray, and his face bore definite worry lines.
Charyn offered a pleasant smile and motioned to the chairs in front of the desk. “Please sit down.”
“Your Grace…”
“You can sit.” Charyn seated himself, then waited for the factor to do the same before asking, “Why did you wish to see me?”
The graying factor glanced down for a moment before replying. “Factor Elthyrd. He said that you might grant me an audience. He said you wouldn’t grudge me even if you didn’t agree to see me.”
“Just what might be the matter that concerns you?”
“I’m a copper factor and a coppersmith, Your Grace. It’s getting harder and harder to get tin or zinc. That’s not good. If I want to keep my factorage working, I may have to use copper ores that have more arsenic … or even add it.”
“Arsenic?”
“Yes, Your Grace. The metal from the arsenic ores takes more work-hardening, and you’ve got to be real careful in casting. The fumes, you know. More than a few apprentices have burned their eyes, even lost their sight. Not mine, mind you. I’ve been careful, but it’d be much better with tin, or zinc.”
For a moment, Charyn did not reply, thinking. “Which ore is more costly?”
“They’re all costly these days. It takes more work with the arsenic, and more can go wrong.”
“What do you expect from me?”
“I expect nothing, Your Grace. I can only tell you what I know.”
“What if what it takes to get you tin and zinc will raise your tariffs? Building scores more ships does not come cheaply. Then what?”
“I cannot say that would be good for me. I might have to let one of my apprentices go.”
“I think you’ve made your point about arsenic, Factor Cuipryn. Is there anything else?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Have you shared these concerns with others?”
A puzzled expression crossed the older man’s face. “A few other factors. The problem with the Jariolan pirates affects us all.”
Charyn stood. “I thank you for telling me all this. I will think about it before I decide.”
The copper factor stood and bowed deeply, then backed away for several steps, before turning and leaving the study.
Charyn turned to Howal. “What do you think?”
“He said what he said to someone else, and they persuaded him to try to say that to you.”
“Another form of trying to persuade me to do what I don’t have the golds to do,” said Charyn dryly.
A quint before ninth glass, Paersyt stepped into the study, his gray hair slicked back. He wore a deep maroon coat, rather than the stained and worn leathers that Charyn had seen before.
The toolmaker bowed, then straightened, as if he were not certain what to do next.
“I’m sorry you had to request a meeting. I’ve been meaning to get back to you, but,” Charyn gestured vaguely around the study, “as you must know, my life has been rather upended. Please sit down.”
Paersyt did so.
“I still am very interested in your steam … engine … and what it might be able to do. Have you had any others interested in it?”
“No. No one thinks it will make golds for them.”
Charyn nodded. “If you obtained limited funds for now, could you keep working on it?”
“I could. For models, not to build a large working engine, one that could move a small flatboat.”
Charyn nodded, then reached into his wallet and extracted the golds, leaning forward and setting them on the desk before the toolmaker. “Here are ten golds. Keep working on it.”
“Your Grace … I never asked…” Paersyt made no move.
“I know you didn’t, but there’s a chance you can develop something very workable.” Charyn couldn’t have said why he felt that way, but he did. There was just something about Paersyt. “Use them carefully. Just let me know when you have made some progress.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I will.”
Charyn stood. “I look forward to seeing what you can do.”
Once Paersyt had left the study, Charyn looked to Howal, who had not quite concealed his puzzlement. “I’d like to see what he does with ten golds before I spend a thousand times that.” Charyn didn’t explain further, but said, “Let me see those last letters.”
Between the two of them, they finished the last of the responses to the letters of condolence and drafted four petition replies for Sanafryt to review by the time, just before first glass, when Sturdyn announced, “Factor Weezyr.”
Charyn had pictured Weezyr as a dark-haired, narrow-shouldered figure with deep-set eyes and hunched shoulders. The reality was rather different. The banking factor was tall, with broad shoulders, perfectly brushed blond hair, and cheerful green eyes. As he entered the study, his immediate smile was warm and welcoming.
“Your Grace, I do so much appreciate your seeing me.”
Charyn gestured toward the chairs and immediately reseated himself. “What might be the reason you wished to see me?”
“I had an idea that might be of benefit to Solidar,” said the factor as he sat down.
“Go on.”
“Well … as you must know … anyone can mint coins … so long as they meet the standards set forth in the Codex Legis.”
“Since you’re bringing the matter up, do you think that’s a problem?”
“It is for the banques and the exchanges. We have one man who spends much of his time weighing and water-checking golds and silvers. We have to go as much by weight as anything. People complain if we won’t accept full value for coins that have been clipped or shaved. Have you ever thought of a regial mint? Or having a banque mint coins for you?”
Charyn hadn’t thought of either. “What would be the advantage?”
“Every regial c
oin would be accepted at stamped value, unless obviously clipped.”
“That would be to your advantage,” said Charyn. “Why might it be to mine? If the regial coins are the best, people would hoard them and use others in trade. If others’ coins are better, then they’ll use the regial coins, and everyone will say that the rex is trying to cheat them.”
“In time, you might forbid other coins for trade.”
“This is something I’m going to have to think about, Factor Weezyr.” Charyn wasn’t going to think too hard. To make regial coins the only coin of the land would require changes in law. Not only that, but he’d have to build the mint and obtain the raw gold. In the end, the cost of those changes would fall on the factors and High Holders … with both of whom he already had enough trouble. Perhaps in the future …
After ushering Weezyr out, Charyn decided he’d much rather see coppersmiths and toolmakers than ever deal with Weezyr again. That doesn’t mean you won’t have to.
He looked at the remaining petitions and took a deep breath.
37
By ninth glass on Mardi morning, Charyn was still poring over the figures that Alucar had supplied him, not to mention the latest figures on the golds in the regial treasury and what could be expected over the coming year. At about a quint past the glass, there was a rap on the study door.
“Undercaptain Baaltaar with an urgent dispatch from the marshal,” announced Sturdyn.
Charyn looked to Howal, who immediately set down his pen and nodded.
“Have him come in.”
The study door opened, and the officer entered, a man who looked even younger than Charyn, wearing duty greens, with his visor cap under one arm and a sealed envelope in his right hand. He walked to the desk, inclined his head, set the envelope down and said, “A dispatch from Marshal Vaelln.”
“Thank you, Undercaptain. Does the dispatch require an immediate reply?”
“No, sir.”
“Then you may go.”
“Thank you, sir.” The officer inclined his head once more, then turned and departed.
Charyn picked up the envelope and slit it open, without breaking the green wax seal. He began to read.
Your Grace—
We have just received word of a naval encounter off the east coast of Jariola that occurred on the twenty-third of Finitas. The incident took place between two of our third-rate ships and one first-rate ship and a five-ship flotilla of Jariolan warships, each roughly equal to a second-rate ship of the line. The Jariolan ships were in the process of preparing to attack three Solidaran merchant vessels. They refused to lay off, and one attacked our leading third-rater.
In the ensuing battle, we lost the third-rater, but sank three of the Jariolan vessels and damaged the others. The surviving Jariolans withdrew, presumably to Jariolt. The merchanters proceeded, apparently unharmed. They indicated that their destination was the Abierto Isles.
This is the first encounter involving the loss of more than a single Jariolan warship at one time, and I thought you should be apprised of it …
Charyn reread the dispatch. The words didn’t change. He doubted that the Jariolans would feel anything but outraged that their attempted piracy had turned out the way it had.
Is this enough to lead to war … or will there be just threats of war? Or will nothing be said while they redouble their attacks on our ships?
It didn’t matter that such an attack amounted to piracy. The Oligarch wasn’t going to be pleased, and that likely meant an increase in attacks on Solidaran merchanters. And then whoever had killed his father and sent the latest note would strike again. Charyn also had no doubts that what was in the dispatch would be in the next edition of Veritum … and, if not, in the next one of Tableta.
“Howal, you should read this.” Charyn held up the single sheet, then waited for the imager to take it. “When you finish, I’d like to hear what you think.”
Howal stood and crossed the room. After receiving the dispatch, he remained before the desk and read it. He cleared his throat before handing the sheet back to Charyn. “I am not a military person, sir. I would think that the Jariolans would not be pleased. They lost three warships to a smaller force near their own shores.”
Charyn nodded. “If they retaliate by attacking more of our merchanters, there will be even more cries that the rex needs to do something. It’s likely that they may already have responded. That happened almost four weeks ago.”
“Four weeks, sir?”
“Word reached me more slowly than I would have liked, but the ship carrying the message may have had adverse winds. Under the best conditions, for a warship under full sail, it would have taken the news almost two weeks to reach Kephria, and another five days for a courier from Kephria to reach L’Excelsis.”
“Wouldn’t the ship go to Westisle?”
“It likely would, but a fast sloop or schooner from there would reach Kephria faster than a courier.” He’d learned that from Vaelln, something he wouldn’t have known months earlier.
He’d have to tell the members of both councils what had happened with the Jariolans, although he wouldn’t be surprised if some of them found out before the meeting tomorrow, but whether any who did would reveal that knowledge was unlikely, because it would indicate they had a spy in army headquarters … or a relative, although most officers closely related to High Holders were supposed to be posted away from L’Excelsis. It only takes one.
He still had no way of knowing whether his father had released his uncle Ryel from his duty as head of the High Council or demanded that Ryel remain. Although it was likely Ryel would appear at the meeting in any event, it would be good to know. But would it? Charyn frowned. Since he didn’t know, and since his father was known to have kept his decisions to himself, even if Ryel had heard a decision, Ryel might well think Charyn didn’t know … but …
Charyn shook his head. He’d just have to act as if he’d never heard anything and as if he’d expected Ryel to remain as the chief of the council. If he acted any other way, that would lead others to expect he knew more than he did, when he already was aware that he knew far less than he should.
38
The first thing Charyn did upon reaching his study on Meredi morning was to read Veritum. While he was relieved that the contents of Vaelln’s dispatch hadn’t appeared in the newssheet, the salient points of the lead story were bad enough.
… word is that the new rex has received a threat similar to the one Rex Lorien received before his assassination … appeared immediately after he spoke at his father’s memorial service at the Anomen D’Rex … likely that some ship-owners are tired of losing vessels to the so-called privateers … nothing more than pirates commissioned by the Jariolan Oligarch to destroy Solidar’s trading … Rex Charyn might face worse than paper threats if he doesn’t take a stronger stand …
How can you take a stronger stand … and with what?
Finally, he set aside the newssheet. For the rest of the morning, he and Howal dealt with the last of the petitions, all of which had requested special considerations in paying annual tariffs, and all of which he had denied, on the grounds that granting special treatment for certain losses of structures and vessels and not others amounted to regial favoritism.
By a quint before first glass, Charyn was nervous. What if some of them don’t come … or all of them? He stood by the window and pulled back the hangings. While the day was gray and looked cold, there was no sign of snow—except in the dirty heaps remaining from the last storm. He let the hangings fall back into place and turned back to look at the empty conference table. Howal was on the main level and would escort the factors to the study.
Charyn had debated having the various council members ushered into the study before he joined them once all were present, but decided on following his father’s example of allowing the factors to gather in the music room and the High Councilors in the receiving parlor and then having both groups enter the study beginning with the factors. Sin
ce the Maitre was perceived as being more allied to the rex, Charyn had left instructions for Alastar to be immediately escorted to the study.
At just after a quint before the glass, Alastar entered the study. “Good afternoon, Charyn.”
“Good afternoon, Maitre.” Charyn did not sit down. He was too nervous to sit. “Did you see the story about the threat in Veritum?”
“I did. Alyna and I told no one.”
“The only one who knew about the contents of the note were you, Alyna, my family, and Howal. I never mentioned what was actually in the note to anyone. Even Chorister Saerlet only heard that there was a threat, but not what it was.”
“I assume you have kept all those notes under lock.”
“Hidden lock,” replied Charyn.
“Then the contents were revealed by whoever wrote the note. They were likely given to someone else, anonymously, and dispatched by public messenger.”
“In merchant hand as well,” suggested Charyn dryly.
“Someone wants everyone to know you’ve been threatened. Can you think why that might be, besides trying to put pressure on you by letting all the shipping factors know that someone is desperate enough or angry enough to try to kill two rexes if you don’t stop the Jariolans?”
“That’s the only reason I can come up with,” Charyn admitted. “Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”
“Only that they’re intelligent, well-informed, and scarcely short of golds.”
“That only limits my enemy to a few thousand people.”
“Less than that. Whoever it is either lives in L’Excelsis or has minions that do and has been diligent enough to learn a great deal about the chateau and how matters proceed within.”
That was obvious, but Charyn knew quite a few people who fit that description, and doubtless there were others who did.
As the chimes struck the glass, there was a rap on the study door. “All the factors and High Holders are here, sir.”
“Have Howal escort the factors here. Norstan should follow with the High Holders.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Sturdyn.
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