Madness in Solidar (32 page)

“We'll take the Bridge of Desires,” Alastar announced as he mounted.

As they crossed the bridge, Alastar studied the West River Road to the south, especially the area along the river between the two bridges linking the isle to the west bank of the river. Then he and Neiryn rode north. Alastar rode slowly on the river side of the road, stopping occasionally, and using a black pastel crayon with a fine point to note something on the writing pad he carried. Less frequently, he unrolled a map and compared it to what he saw. When they neared the Nord Bridge, he needed to slow or stop less frequently.

The two continued north on the West River Road until half a mille past where the paved road turned away from the river. There Alastar reined up and surveyed the welter of houses and shops to the west and northwest. Turning to Neiryn, he said, “We can head back now.”

The return to Imagisle was not as deliberate as the ride out, but Alastar did stop several times, particularly near what appeared to be an abandoned, or at least disused, mill of some sort.

When he returned to the anteroom outside his study, just after fourth glass, he found Obsolym there, apparently finishing a conversation with Dareyn, since Dareyn immediately said, “Here comes the Maitre now.”

“Very good.” Obsolym turned to face Alastar.

“You wanted a word with me?”

“Just a few moments.”

Alastar motioned to the study, then walked into it, with Obsolym following. The Maitre D'Structure closed the door after he entered.

Alastar did not sit down. He'd spent almost three glasses in the saddle and felt more like standing. “What is it?”

“I wondered how matters went with Factor Wylum.”

“He wasn't happy, understandably. We talked for a short while. I made arrangements with him to send Gherard's body to his factorage, as he requested.”

“Is there anything else necessary?” asked Obsolym.

“Only to find out how Factor Wylum learned of his son's death almost before I did, since there is no home address for the good factor in the file on Gherard.”

“He knew already?”

“He did.” Alastar had no doubt that Obsolym had been the one to inform Wylum, since he had been Gherard's preceptor, but Alastar wasn't about to make an accusation.

“I see. I wonder how that happened.”

Alastar smiled. “So do I. Is that all you wanted to know?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

As Obsolym left the study, Alastar couldn't help but wonder why the other maitre had let Wylum know. Because he believed that Alastar was being too hard in what he asked of students and senior maitres, or because he had other ambitions … or just to make life difficult for Alastar? Then he started back to work correlating his observations with the maps. That lasted for less than a quint before Dareyn announced. “Maitres Cyran and Alyna to see you.”

“Have them come in.” Alastar stood.

Some sort of dust streaked the trousers of both imagers, and Alastar had to admit they looked tired as they walked into the study. “Were you able to deal with the problem, or will you have to go back?”

“We managed, once we figured out the problem … or Alyna did.” Cyran gestured to Alyna. “You can explain.”

“I just noticed that the sewer water ran past two of the drains, “Alyna said, “and then went down the third, mostly anyway. I thought that we ought to see what was wrong with the drains first.” She offered a rueful smile. “Some idiot poured mortar down two of the drains and some down a third, just on the west side of the road. Or something like it. The sewer ditches themselves were fine, except backed up. Imaging out chunks of stone took most of the day. We only had to replace two small sections of the ditches where we couldn't separate the mortar from the ditch walls and pavement covers.”

“They all seem to be working now.” Cyran paused. “If you wouldn't mind, Maitre. I did promise … Alyna can explain…”

“You can go. If there's anything else, we can talk in the morning.”

Once Cyran had left, Alastar said, “I noticed that the water ran past the drains, but I thought that was because the sewer itself was plugged up.”

“That was my first thought, too. But I didn't want to image huge holes in the pavement if we didn't have to. I decided that, even if the sewer was plugged, we'd still have to clean out the drains. So I had us start with the drains. I was fortunate. At least, less unfortunate. Imaging out solid mortar is definitely hard work.”

“Thank you. That's for both the ingenuity and the work.” Alastar smiled warmly. “I do appreciate it. Is there anything else I should know? Did anyone complain?”

“No one seemed to pay much attention, except for the last two glasses, when we had to block almost half the road. The only thing that looks different is that the pavement we replaced looks newer.”

“A few weeks, and no one will even notice, even if the stones stay a different shade.”

“They're close to the original.”

“I'll be interested to see how your imaging feels by Solayi.”

“In addition to carrying stronger shields?”

Alastar nodded. “You've already had a long and hard day. I don't want to keep you.”

“It has been a long day … but it was good to fix something.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

“The thanks are all mine.”

After Alyna had left, Alastar just stood by his desk, not really quite sure what he was thinking, except that her smile had definitely had an unsettling effect on him.
Because you're hoping?
He shook his head and went back to work on the maps and what he had discovered.

Later, after eating in the dining hall, Alastar returned to his study in the administration building. There, he picked up the second and third volumes of Gauswn's journals and carried them back to the Maitre's residence, where he set them on the desk and then sat down, thinking.

What else can you do about the standoff between the rex and the High Council? You can't have the Collegium seen as beginning anything. That would undo everything that it stands for, and it would rekindle the distrust and hatred of imagers.
He shook his head.
But doing nothing for fear of that is what led to the present situation.

Finally, he took out Gauswn's journal and finished the last twenty pages in the first volume, and started the second volume. After reading another twenty pages and finding only passing references, or day-to-day activities of Quaeryt being mentioned, he closed the heavy volume and sat silently at the desk for a time.

For so many mentions, there's so little that really says anything.
He smiled wryly.
Isn't that true of all of us? The Maitre did this. He did that. He said this. He said that … and little of that says much about the man … or the imager.

At last, he rose and imaged out the lamp.

 

19

Alastar woke early on Samedi morning, sweating, despite the chill in the bedchamber, and recalling a nightmare where he had ridden from chateau to chateau, seeking someone who could agree on what was indeed a proper tariff, except every High Holder cried back from barred doors, “None!” Then he had walked from factor to factor, and all the factors had declared that most of the tariffs should be paid by the High Holders. Even his morning run didn't dispel the gloom brought on by that dream. Once back at the residence, he washed, shaved, and dressed quickly, leaving the dwelling before Jienna arrived for the day, then made his way to the dining hall where he ate before hurrying to his study. There were no messages from anyone. Nor did any arrive in the next glass.

You can't just wait for something to happen.
With those thoughts in mind, he made his way to the instructional building, where he heard a lutelin being tuned. Curious, he eased down the hallway to the chamber from where the sound came.

After raising a concealment, one that also blurred the door, he entered the chamber. None of the students noticed, since they were facing Shaelyt, although the junior maitre paused for an instant before continuing,

“… ah … sometimes, ah … as I was saying, songs tell us things that the histories or even the stories handed down don't. I'd like you all to listen to the words of this one.” Shaelyt strummed the lutelin and began to sing.

“Rex Regis was a warrior, and a mighty man was he,

He broke the holders of the hills, and he made them die and flee,

His armies swept Bovaria and set all her people free,

Then conquered Khel and Antiago, to rule from sea to sea,

But few among the armies knew his line was solid Pharsi

Praise your Hengist or your Caldor, any warrior you can see

But none's as mighty as Rex Regis, the Yaran who was a Pharsi…”

As the young maitre played and sang, with a pleasant but not outstanding voice, Alastar watched the seconds. The body positions suggested puzzlement.

“Have any of you heard that song?” asked Shaelyt when he finished.

“No, sir.” That response was unanimous, not surprisingly, even to Alastar, who had never heard the tune, and he'd overheard many, especially as a boy in Westisle.

“You can hear why. It's not that good a song, but it was sung hundreds of years ago. I doubt that it was that popular even then, but I found a copy in the archives. More important, why did I sing it in a study session about the history of Solidar?”

There were no answers, no words from the student imagers.

“What do you think about Pharsis?” Shaelyt pointed to a slightly rotund second.

“They lived in the west. In Khel, when it was separate land. Rex Kharst killed most of them.”

“So why are the Pharsis important to the Collegium?”

“Some imagers are Pharsi, aren't they?” asked the sole girl among the students.

“Yes, they are, Linzya. Why might that be?”

The lack of replies suggested more blank faces.

“Borlan? Do you know Tertius Belsior?

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know where his name comes from?”

“Elsior, sir. He was a great imager in the old days, and he was the second Maitre of the Collegium.”

“He was also a Pharsi. So was Quaeryt, the first Maitre. So, as the song shows, was Rex Regis.”

“They all were?” Borlan's face showed considerable surprise.

“There are other names that also have a Pharsi origin…”

Alastar slipped from the chamber. Much as he'd enjoyed Shaelyt's way of getting into the contribution the Pharsi community had made to the creation of Solidar, he was getting worried … even though he had the feeling that he'd hear little from anyone until Lundi … if then.

As he walked back to the administration building, he could feel that the winds of the past few days had died away, but also noted that the sky was becoming overcast, although, without a breeze, the day felt only chilly. When he reached the anteroom, Dareyn looked up from his desk.

“You received a letter from Factor Elthyrd. I left it on your desk. I didn't know when you'd be back. I didn't think you'd be long.”

“I was observing a lesson. Is there anything from anyone else?”

“No, sir.”

That concerned Alastar, but there wasn't much he could do about that. So he walked into the study, opened the single envelope on the desk, and began to read even before he sat down.

Maitre Alastar—

I must say that the factors' council was pleased with the speed with which the Collegium addressed the first of the locations requiring repairs to the sewers. The fact that the imagers managed the repairs with minimal disruption to wagons and coaches traveling Nordroad was also noted favorably.

I also trust it will not be too long before the Collegium can proceed with the other repairs that the council brought to the attention of the Collegium.

Alastar smiled sardonically at the last words of the missive, then sat down to write an immediate response.
Since you have the time and it will serve another purpose.
He wrote deliberately and cautiously.

Dear Factorius Elthyrd—

Thank you for your missive about the recent sewer repairs.

As I indicated when we last spoke, when we can get to the next repairs will depend on other commitments, since, as you may have heard, Rex Ryen and Marshal Demykalon have a considerable difference of opinion with the High Council over the level of next year's tariffs, and the rex has made a number of demands on the Collegium recently. You may rest assured that we will indeed complete the repairs you suggested, but the timing will depend upon other events over which the Collegium has no control.

Alastar looked over what he had written, then decided against adding more, and signed the letter. After letting the ink dry and then blotting it, he folded it, put it in an envelope and sealed, before taking it out to Dareyn.

“Please, have this dispatched back to Factor Elthyrd, at his factorage, not at the factors' council.”

“Yes, sir.” Dareyn smiled faintly. “And no, sir, there aren't any more messages.”

“Thank you.” Alastar had the feeling that the remainder of Samedi would be long and uneventful, but that lack of happenings was likely the calm before the tempest.

 

20

With all his worries, Alastar didn't sleep late on Solayi, but woke as early as he did during the rest of the week. When he entered the dining hall for breakfast, he was surprised to see Alyna there—until he realized she was seated with Tiranya, who was the duty maitre.
That makes sense, since they share a cottage.
He debated taking the seat beside Tiranya, to show impartiality, then decided to be selfish, and moved to the seat beside Alyna.

“Good morning,” he offered cheerfully. “You wouldn't mind if I joined you?”