Madness in Solidar (48 page)

Alyna looked away, just slightly. “Before everyone gets here, I'd like you to look at the side wall. I've repaired the shutters and replaced the glass as well as I could.” She smiled, although Alastar could see the darkness under her eyes. Then she walked down the steps and moved to his left toward the west end of the house, stopping short of a small crater beneath the stone wall, where it appeared an explosion had ripped away the ground almost a yard deep, revealing the large gray stone foundation blocks.

From what he could see, the outside wall showed no damage whatsoever. “It's as though it was never struck.”

“There wasn't any damage at all, except to the shutters and the windows.” Alyna pointed to the crater. “From that, there shouldn't have been much of this end of the dwelling remaining.”

Alastar frowned. He wasn't thinking as clearly as he should be. After a moment, he realized what she was suggesting. “You think the dwelling was imaged into being in the same way the Chateau D'Rex was?”

“Not the same way, but by the same imagers. It's almost four hundred years old. Does it look it? I've never really studied the walls here before.” She smiled wryly. “I don't imagine anyone comes here and just looks at that wall. Are the stones worn or chipped or scratched? Why weren't windows on the other sides of the house shattered?”

“They imaged it to stand forever,” mused Alastar. “I wonder why. Nothing else here was imaged that solid.” He studied the windows and their casements. “I can't tell what you did and what you didn't.” Then he looked to her. “You didn't have to do that.”

“Cyran and I decided it was necessary. Where else is there for people to meet and for you to work? Besides, the damage was small … as I said.” After the slightest hesitation, she added, “You need to eat. Your eyes are pinkish. There are cold meats and cheese in the kitchen.”

“Pinkish?”

“I've noticed that's the way they look when you need to eat or drink.”

What else has she noticed.
“With all the imaging you've done, you need to eat as well. We'll need to hurry. It won't be that long before the others arrive.”

“They can wait a few moments for you to eat, if necessary.”

That might have been, but Alastar
was
hungry. Once they reached the kitchen, where the sideboard held a platter with meat and cheese, with a warm loaf of bread nearby, he was ready to tear into the food when he noticed Jienna standing near the rear door, grinning.

“It's about time you ate, Maitre.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank Maitre Alyna, too. I've been cooking all day. Most went to the students.” Jienna smiled again. “Now … eat. Both of you. There's lager in the pitcher.”

Alastar had just finished the last chunk of bread when Cyran walked into the kitchen.

“Everyone's here.”

“Have them come into the dining room. It will be crowded, but … I think they'll all fit.” Alastar took a last swallow of lager. He had to admit that he felt much better. He looked at Alyna. “Are my eyes still pinkish?”

“A little, but it's fading.”

“How did you come to notice that?”

“I told you. I've been watching.” Her smile contained a definite element of amusement before she moved through the open door to the serving pantry and the dining room beyond.

Alastar followed.

It was several quints past fourth glass before the remaining maitres all sat crowded around the dining room table. From one end, Alastar looked down the table, realizing that he'd never actually sat at the table. Cyran was to his right, Alyna to his left. Then came Obsolym and Akoryt, Taryn and Gaellen, followed by Claeynd, Khaelis, Tiranya, Shaelyt, Lhendyr, Narryn, Petros, and Warryk. Dareyn stood by the door.

Alastar cleared his throat and began. “I've just returned from the Chateau D'Rex. Rex Ryen died of a rage early this morning, and Lorien is now rex. After the death of Marshal Demykalon, Submarshal Petayn has become acting marshal, and I also met with him briefly. Rex Lorien has ordered the army to return and remain on its posts. Earlier I met with High Holder Vaun, who is now the acting head of the High Council. It now appears likely that the High Council and the rex will reach a compromise on the tariff level for next year. That leaves us with the problem of rebuilding the Collegium and restructuring how we operate so that, in the future, we will not be so reliant on the generosity of the rex. And unfortunately, we also have to find Desyrk and deal with him—”

“What do you intend?” asked Obsolym warily.

“Given what he has done, what would you suggest?” countered Alastar.

“You did humiliate him…”

“I removed him from duties for lack of competence. I did not discipline him otherwise.”
Although you were thinking about it.
“He was the one who left Imagisle and helped direct cannon fire against the Collegium—”

“He did that?” asked Taryn, a note of astonishment in his voice. Even Obsolym's mouth dropped open, if only for a moment.

“He did. I'm sorry. I forgot to mention that to everyone. Maitre Alyna was there as well. I told Maitre Cyran and a few others about that last night. The last two days have been long.”

“It seems to me, junior as I might be,” interjected Akoryt, “that the only question is whether we blind him or kill him.”

“If we can capture him, we'll have a hearing and decide,” declared Alastar.

“Can we trust Submarshal Petayn?” asked Akoryt.

“What happened to Marshal Demykalon?” asked Obsolym almost at the same time.

“Marshal Demykalon ordered the cannon attack on Imagisle. Let's just say that he didn't survive the recoil. Submarshal Petayn was not pleased, but said that he would obey Rex Lorien's order. I suspect he will … for now.”

“What about High Holder Guerdyn?” asked Alyna. “He declared he would never accept higher tariffs.”

“He told me the same thing,” replied Alastar. “He won't have to worry about that now. His reaction to my insisting on a compromise led to a seizure. I didn't bother trying to save him.” Alastar wasn't about to admit directly what he'd done. People could and would speculate, but Guerdyn's death was better left somewhat murky.

“You killed him?” asked Obsolym.

“There's not a mark on his body and not a trace of poison in it, either. We'll leave it at that.”

Obsolym swallowed.

Alastar turned to Akoryt. “Do you have any better idea of how many were killed, how many injured, and the extent of their injuries?”

“Yes, sir. Eleven deaths, so far. Six imagers and students, four cooks, a gardener. Two of them were Johanyr and Klovyl. We found their bodies—what was left of them—in the ruins of the administration building. Gaellen says that there are almost a score with minor injuries, one with serious wounds, and two with broken bones. The most serious is a prime who took stone splinters. Gaellen isn't sure he'll make it. The other two are Shannyr and Kaylet.” Akoryt's expression turned rueful with the second name. “Kaylet broke both wrists when he tripped walking on the river wall in the dark.”

“Who is the prime?”

“Nyell. He's only been here since late Agostas.”

Alastar recalled the name, but couldn't connect it with a face. “What about Shannyr?”

“A broken collarbone, Gaellen says.”

“Was he with Johanyr and Klovyl?”

“Probably. He was near the administration building.”

Another problem? Or a fatal solution?
Alastar would have to look into that. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“I can't think of anything right now, sir.”

“Are there any more questions about what has happened?”

The dining room was silent.

“That's all I had to tell you. If Maitres Cyran, Alyna, Akoryt, and Petros would remain … and Dareyn … we need to talk briefly about repairs and rebuilding.”

Once the other maitres had left, Alastar looked around the table. “What should I know about what's happened here while I was gone?”

“The student quarters weren't badly damaged, except for one corner of two rooms,” Akoryt began, “but we'll have to make arrangements for them to be fed.”

“You can use the kitchen in Desyrk's cottage for some of them. Clear out the main room and put tables there,” said Alastar. “Some of them can be fed here. Jienna said she had already. If one of the other cooks can assist her, that will help. You'll have to alternate which students eat when in both places.”

“We'll assign them times,” replied Akoryt.

“Good. What else is of immediate concern?”

“The strong room was not badly damaged, but it would not be wise to leave what is there…” Dareyn looked to Alastar.

“What's valuable can be put in the small strong room here. You'll need to be here as well. If you'd see what you can work out with Arhgen. He may have to create another set of ledgers as well, unless he had any at his quarters.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is there anything else anyone has that Dareyn should know?”

“Can anyone help with making up rosters and lists of students?” asked Akoryt.

“Ah…” Alastar interjected. “I do have a listing here in the study. It's just a list with a sentence or two about students, staff, and maitres. I had Dareyn put that together when I became Maitre so that I could learn something about everyone. That might help.”

“Greatly,” admitted the red-haired maitre.

“Is there anything else we should consider?” Alastar looked to Dareyn.

“Everyone is usually paid on the last day of the month, sir.”

“I'll need you to work with Arhgen to come up with a temporary pay ledger, then.”

Dareyn nodded.

Dealing with various other administrative questions took another quint before Alastar excused Dareyn and turned to the remaining maitres. “Is there anything anyone wants to say that they didn't wish to say with everyone here?”

“Obsolym's going to make trouble,” suggested Cyran.

“I hope you're wrong,” said Alastar, “but he's having a hard time understanding the problems we face.”

“He's always been good at ignoring them. Speaking of problems, what about Desyrk?”

Alastar shrugged. “He'll likely make more trouble, but he could be anywhere, and since he's good at concealment, we'll just have to be on our guard.”

“I don't like it,” murmured Petros. “Always was a lazy dandy.”

“No one mentioned that before,” said Alastar, giving a quick glance to Alyna in trying to convey that he knew she had.

Alyna offered a faint knowing expression, while the other three exchanged glances. Then Petros gave an embarrassed smile. “He's been like that for so long that I guess we just … well … assumed.”

“Try to assume I know nothing except what's happened in the last two months,” said Alastar dryly. “I take it he's been known to have lady friends beyond his wife.”

“He's been gone some nights over the past few years, but no one knows where. I don't think he's done that since you've been here,” added Petros.

“And Maitre Fhaen let him? Did Fhaen even know?”

“When I asked him,” said Cyran, “he said that so long as Desyrk did his job what he did in his free time was his own business if didn't hurt or cost the Collegium.”

“He used concealments a great deal,” added Akoryt. “Once he crossed the bridge, he just vanished.”

And his wife put up with it?
But then Alastar realized that she well might have feared Desyrk's anger if she'd tried to leave … or maybe she had nowhere to go. “Can anyone else add anything that might help find him?” When no one spoke, he said, “Then we'll get on with seeing who can do what and when with the rebuilding. When you have time, Alyna, would you be able to draw up plans for a new administration building? While we're at it, we might as well rebuild with a structure suited to what we need now, with a proper library and a lower-level strong room large enough to hold records as well as golds. Maybe we ought to think about building a separate wing for instruction with small studies for maitres as well. Everyone think about it, and give your suggestions to Alyna.”

“I can do plans. I think I should do some rough plans and sketches first and have the other maitres look at them…”

As she went on to explain Alastar listened and watched. The watching was more pleasant. After she finished, he discussed with the others what they could do. Less than two quints later, the meeting was over.

When they all rose from the table, Alastar cleared his throat. “I'd like to have a brief meeting at seventh glass tomorrow morning.”

“We'll be here,” replied Cyran cheerfully. “Where else would we want to be at the moment?”

When the others began to head for the front door, Alastar motioned to Alyna. “If you have a moment … I mean … unless you and Tiranya…”

“I'm certain Tiranya won't even notice.” Alyna smiled. “We share a cottage. We're not partners.”

That thought had not even occurred to Alastar. “The chairs in the salon are more comfortable.”

“That would be good.” They ended up sitting in two green velvet armchairs angled toward each other, if with a small circular table between them. Although it was approaching sunset, Alastar did not light any of the lamps.

“What did you have in mind?” Alyna asked.

Just getting to know you better.
“Talking. Learning more about you. You're part Pharsi. Have you ever had one of those … flashes of farsight?”

For just an instant, Alyna was totally still. “Why do you ask?”

Her words were pleasant, but Alastar sensed a wariness behind them. “Because Vaelora did, and it seemed to run in her family.” The last phrase was a bit of a guess on his part, but from what he'd read in Gauswn's journal entries, there was a certain implication.
Or is that just your inference?