How firm a foundation s-5

by David Weber

  “You think this is some sort of Republic-wide… plot, for want of a better word?” Cahnyr could have wished his own tone was more incredulous. Pahrsahn’s slow nod of agreement didn’t make him feel any better, either. “That’s… well, I don’t want to call it preposterous, but it sounds awfully ambitious even for someone like Clyntahn.”

  “Our illustrious Grand Inquisitor’s done something in the last three or four years to convince you he doesn’t think in ‘ambitious’ terms?” Pahrsahn asked just a bit derisively.

  “Of course not. I just meant-”

  “You meant that the Republic of Siddarmark is huge and that organizing anything like this as a workable proposition would be an enormous undertaking, especially in the middle of a war?”

  “Well, yes. Pretty much.”

  “At first sight I might be inclined to agree with you, Your Eminence,” she said very seriously, “but consider three things. First,” she held up her left fist, index finger extended, “the Inquisition, like Mother Church herself, is everywhere. And, two,” her second finger joined her index finger, “at this moment Zhaspahr Clyntahn’s concentrated more power in his hands than probably any other Grand Inquisitor in the history of Mother Church. And, third,” her ring finger joined the other two, “we are in the middle of a war, which means he and Rayno are in a position to argue convincingly that the Church is fighting for her very survival. Your Eminence, even priests who fundamentally disagree with many of the things Clyntahn’s doing right now are acquiescing because of the Church’s frightened, defensive mindset. And to be honest, the Charisians’ string of victories only makes that fear still stronger. Worse, Clyntahn’s made it abundantly clear what he’s willing to do to anyone he might even remotely consider an opponent or an enemy. So added to the fear for Mother Church’s survival we have the personal fear that anyone who gets in the Inquisition’s way is going to suffer for it-suffer severely.

  “So we have the Inquisition’s feelers and tentacles threaded throughout not just the Republic but all of the mainland realms, and we have a Grand Inquisitor with a genuine iron fist and a taste for using it, and a priesthood-not just in the Inquisition, but everywhere in Mother Church-frightened by the combined challenge of the Church of Charis from without and the Reformists from within and frightened of that iron fist of his. Do you really think under those circumstances that someone like Zhaspahr Clyntahn and Wyllym Rayno wouldn’t see the potential to… destabilize a Republic of Siddarmark they’ve hated and distrusted literally for decades? I know the very thought is revolting, but try to put yourself inside their minds for a moment. From their perspective, would there really be any conceivable downside to tearing the entire Republic apart and simultaneously getting their hands around the throat of the Reformist movement here in Siddarmark?”

  Zhasyn Cahnyr looked at her grim, lovely face for the better part of a minute and a half in silence. And then, slowly, he shook his head. . VII.

  Lord Protector Stohnar’s Residence and the Charisian Embassy, Siddar City, Republic of Siddarmark

  “The temperature seems to be rising awfully sharply for September,” Greyghor Stohnar said sourly, looking around the handsome, inlaid table in the richly appointed library of the Lord Protector’s personal residence.

  He could have held this meeting in his public office in the Lord Protector’s Palace off Constitution Square, but public offices were just that: public. Not even Henrai Maidyn’s agents could be sure there weren’t spies in his own staff, although it seemed unlikely. He was almost certain the Group of Four would have taken much more strenuous action against him long before now if Zhaspahr Clyntahn had managed to get a spy that close to him. On the other hand, he hadn’t survived this long by taking anything for granted.

  “Temperatures tend to do that when someone starts blowing on the flames,” Maidyn said unhappily.

  “You’re sure that’s what’s happening, then?” Lord Samyl Gahdarhd asked, his expression acutely unhappy. Maidyn looked back at him, and the Keeper of the Seal grimaced. “I realize you’re not in the habit of just casually dropping unsubstantiated rumors on us, Henrai, but if you’re right about what’s going on under the surface, we’re about to land in a sea of trouble.”

  “Then I recommend we all learn how to swim,” Daryus Parkair, the Republic’s Seneschal, said harshly. Gahdarhd’s eyes moved to him, and Parkair shrugged. “Every one of my agents is reporting exactly the same thing Henrai’s are. Or, the ones I’m sure haven’t been suborned by Pahtkovair or Airnhart, anyway.” He showed his teeth briefly. “Frankly, there aren’t as many of those as I wish there were.”

  Stohnar ran his right hand through his hair, his expression rather more harried than he ever allowed it to look in public. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen this coming for quite some time, he reminded himself. There was, however, a difference between anticipating something at some unspecified future date and actually seeing it rumbling towards you like Shan-wei’s salt grinder.

  “All right,” he said after a moment, “I think we just answered the question of whether or not they’re up to something. So it seems to me that the ones still before us are how soon they intend to move, how widely they intend to move, and exactly how they plan on all of this coming down in the end.”

  “I hope no one minds my pointing out that those are rather broad questions,” Gahdarhd observed dryly.

  “I agree.” Maidyn nodded crisply and turned to the Lord Protector. “I don’t think we can answer any of them in any definitive sense. What does seem probable, though, is that they’ve been working on whatever they have in mind ever since Clyntahn sent us Pahtkovair. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve had contingency plans basically forever, and when Charis declined to lie down and die they decided to dust one off and update it to fit the new circumstances.

  “I also think we can assume they’d really like for whatever they have in mind to happen before the snow starts flying. That would explain why their agitators are ratcheting the ‘temperature’ up right now-they’ve only got about another month or a month and a half before winter closes in.”

  “You’re probably right, Henrai,” Parkair said, “but let’s not invest too much confidence in that timing. If we’re looking at some widespread operation directed at the Republic as a whole, then, yes, they’d probably prefer to have it out of the way before winter starts cutting down on their mobility. If what they’re planning is a more focused operation, something like seizing control of Siddar City and the government in a quick coup rather than some popular general uprising by our ‘outraged citizenry’-with no outside provocation at all, of course!-they might see winter weather as their ally. If they don’t succeed in the first rush, bad weather would make it more difficult for us to bring in reinforcements from outlying regions that decided to remain loyal to us.”

  “A valid point,” Stohnar said. “On the other hand, we’re talking about Zhaspahr Clyntahn. He’s not the sort to think small, and we’ve got reports of the same sorts of propaganda and ‘spontaneous’ organizations from at least a dozen other cities and towns. To me, that suggests he’s thinking in terms of your ‘widespread operation,’ Daryus.”

  “I think we have to assume he is, anyway,” Maidyn agreed. “We’ll be a lot better off planning against a bigger threat than we actually end up facing than underestimating the danger and getting our heads handed to us when the shit really starts flying.”

  “Granted,” Parkair agreed, and Stohnar nodded.

  “All right, we’ll think in terms of an execution date on their part sometime in the next two months. If it turns out we’ve got longer, so much the better.”

  “Have we heard anything from Cahnyr or the lovely and devious Madam Pahrsahn?” Gahdarhd asked wryly, and Stohnar chuckled.

  “Not directly, no. Then again, we’re officially trying to arrest Cahnyr-as soon as we can find him, of course-and Madam Pahrsahn doesn’t know-officially, at least-we’re even aware of her activities. That makes it just a tiny bit di
fficult for them to openly share information with us. On the other hand, I suspect at least some of Henrai’s informants are really part of Madam Pahrsahn’s network. I think she’s making sure we find out about certain things she’s discovered. What I’m a lot less sure of is whether or not she’s telling us everything she’s discovered.” The Lord Protector shook his head. “The lady has an agenda of her own, and while I’m prepared to welcome just about any ally if this turns out as badly as we’re afraid it could, I’m not about to assume she isn’t feeding us selected information. I don’t think she’d actually lie to us to get us to do what she wants, if only because she’s foresighted enough to realize how badly that could hurt her with us down the road, but I’m positive she wouldn’t be above… manipulating information in order to prod us into doing what she wants. Whatever it turns out that is.”

  “The lady is a force to be reckoned with,” Parkair agreed. “She and my wife have become quite close, you know. I’ve warned Zhanaiah to be cautious, and you all know Zhany’s no fool, but she obviously approves of Madam Pahrsahn. She thinks she’s one of the smartest people she’s ever met, too.”

  “That’s Tymahn and Owain Qwentyn’s view, as well,” Maidyn agreed.

  “I know.” Parkair nodded. “But what the Qwentyns may not know is that Madam Pahrsahn’s purchasing agents-purchasing agents she seems to have been very careful to keep well away from the House of Qwentyn and her official, legal investments-have now taken possession of something over eight thousand rifled muskets. Which have all mysteriously disappeared since.”

  “What?!” Gahdarhd stared at him, and the Seneschal chuckled sourly.

  “Hahraimahn did tell us she was investing in rifles,” he pointed out. “And we told him -unofficially, of course-to go ahead and sell them to her as a way to finance some additional manufactory capacity without any investment on our part.” He shrugged. “Obviously I’d prefer to be doing the investing and stockpiling the weapons ourselves, but if there’s one thing Clyntahn’s agents have to be looking for it’s evidence we’re involving ourselves in some major rearmament program without mentioning it to Mother Church.”

  “I understand all that,” the Keeper of the Seal said a bit impatiently. “I was part of the discussion, remember? But eight thousand rifles?!”

  “It would appear Madam Pahrsahn had rather more to invest than we thought when we told Hahraimahn to sell her whatever she ordered,” Parkair said a bit whimsically. “I wonder what she would have done if he’d offered to make artillery for her?”

  “What in hell, if you’ll pardon my language, does she plan to do with that many rifles?” Gahdarhd asked Stohnar, and the Lord Protector shrugged.

  “Something Clyntahn won’t like, I hope. In the meantime, though, unless we want to take official cognizance of her and ask her if she’d be so kind as to hand them over to us, I think we need to plan on the basis of what we know we have and what we’re afraid Pahtkovair and Airnhart may have managed to make available on their side of the hill. Suggestions, anyone?”

  ***

  “… the honor to be, et cetera, et cetera,” Sir Rayjhis Dragoner said, looking out across the city of Siddar, drowsing peacefully under a golden September afternoon sun. He sighed, then turned and stood with his back to the window, watching Wynai Thyrstyn’s busy pen jot down the last few words. “I’ll trust you to finish it up properly,” he said with a smile which was only slightly forced.

  “Yes, Ambassador.” Wynai looked up with a smile of her own. It wasn’t much of a smile, but Dragoner was glad to see it anyway. She hadn’t smiled very often since losing not simply her brother but her favorite cousin, as well, in the Hairatha powder mill explosion. “I’m sure I can come up with a properly respectful closing.”

  “I knew I could count on you. Zheryld was right about how useful you’ve been, and not just taking dictation and dealing with the correspondence. I’ve valued your input on a lot of issues, Wynai. You realize that, I hope?”

  “I’ve tried to be useful, Sir Rayjhis,” she said with a small bob of her head, but the fleeting smile had disappeared again. “I only wish I thought it was really going to do some good.”

  “All we can do is the best we can do.” Dragoner’s tone was firmer and more optimistic than he truly felt, and he was pretty sure Wynai knew it.

  He truly was glad Zheryld Mahrys, his secretary of many years, had managed to find Madam Thyrstyn for him, and not just because she was a skilled stenographer and secretary. He could always use more people with that set of skills, but she was also smart, and it was that, coupled with the many years she’d lived here in the Republic, which made her truly valuable to him. She understood Siddarmarkians in ways he simply didn’t, despite how long he’d been posted as the Charisian ambassador to the Republic.

  And you might as well admit it, Rayjhis, he told himself now, turning back to the window. You value her because she’s your window into the Charisian Temple Loyalists here in the city, too.

  “Do you really think it’s as bad as some people seem to be saying, Sir Rayjhis?” she asked now, and he shrugged.

  “I think it’s not as good as I wish it were,” he said. “Let’s just put it that way.” He shrugged again. “All we can do is warn people to be careful, to avoid provocations, and for any of them who can to return to Charis.”

  “I’ve lived here almost half my entire life, Sir Rayjhis!” Wynai said with an unusual flash of fire. “I’m not going to just run away from my neighbors and my friends-and my family!-and all the rest of my life because some people are letting their mouths run away with them! ”

  “I hope that’s all it is,” he said, turning back around to look at her. “You’ve seen the dispatches I’m sending home, though. You probably know more about what’s happening here in the capital than I do, when it comes down to it. And you know I’m trying hard not to be alarmist and make a bad situation worse. But I’d be derelict in my duties if I didn’t warn the Charisian community about the rumors we’re picking up.”

  “Why did we ever have to start all this?” she asked, her eyes pained. “It’s all… all just crazy, Sir Rayjhis!”

  “In some ways I agree with you,” he said heavily. In fact, he agreed with her in a lot more ways than he was prepared to admit. His personal balancing act as a loyal son of Mother Church and the ambassador of the heretical Empire of Charis had become nothing but more difficult as the Church moved steadily towards an official declaration of jihad. Over the last year, since that declaration had actually come, it had gotten even harder, and deep inside himself he wondered what he was going to do if worse came to worst in the Republic. Only his overriding sense of duty to the House of Ahrmahk had kept him at his post this long, and he didn’t know if even that could have done the trick if he hadn’t seen so many indications Mother Church was striving to keep the Republic as close to neutral territory as it could. He’d had enough clear signs-signals that could only have come from Vicar Rhobair and Chancellor Trynair-that Mother Church actually wanted the embargo to continue “leaking” in Siddarmark’s case. That had been enough to keep him in his office, still able to serve both of the causes which were so dear to his heart. But if that balance was shifting, if Mother Church was changing her mind, what did he do then?

  “In some ways I agree with you,” he repeated, “but we live when we live, and all any of us can do is pray for guidance to get through all this without trading away any more of our souls than we have to. And if we get an opportunity to do something which may make it even a little better-or at least less bad-than it would have been otherwise, then we give thanks on our knees.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Wynai lowered her eyes, seeming a bit abashed at having spoken out, and he inhaled deeply.

  “Go ahead and get clear copies of those written up,” he told her in a gentler tone. “And tell Zheryld we’re going to have a special dispatch bag for Tellesberg.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  “And, Wynai, if you’d like to send any messages hom
e to Charis, feel free to use the dispatch bag.” She looked up at him, and he smiled at her. “I know you don’t abuse the privilege, and at least this way they’ll get home a little quicker.”

  “Thank you, Sir Rayjhis. I appreciate it.”

  Wynai gathered up her notepad and her pen and headed down the hall to her own little cubbyhole of an office. The door closed quietly behind her, and Dragoner returned his attention to the window, looking across those sunlit roofs at North Bay’s sail-dotted azure water and thinking about the homeland which lay so far beyond it.

  ***

  Wynai Thyrstyn closed her office door behind her and sat in the creaky, slightly rickety chair at her desk. She laid her shorthand notes on the blotter and stared down at them, thinking about them, wondering what she should do. Then she leaned back, closed her eyes, and covered her lids with her hands while she tried not to weep.

  There were times she felt almost unbearably torn by guilt as she sat in Sir Rayjhis’ office, taking down his words, working on his correspondence, answering his questions about the Charisian and non-Charisian communities here in Siddar City. It was wrong of her to feel that way, she knew that. She wasn’t doing anything she shouldn’t be doing, and Sir Rayjhis was a good man, one who needed her help. She could see how he was aging before her, the way his hair was going progressively whiter, the lines carving themselves more and more deeply into his face. He’d revealed more of his own spiritual turmoil than he thought he had-she was pretty sure of that-and she wondered how much longer he could bear it. And how he was going to react when the inevitable happened.