Madness in Solidar (58 page)

When she finished, she asked, “Do you have any questions? That's what you always say.”

“I'm too overwhelmed to have questions,” he replied. “I do have some other concerns. I'm worried about what's happening between Lorien and Petayn.” He went on and explained the previous day's meeting with Lorien and the marshals, as well as his feelings afterward.

“You don't usually overstate things,” she finally said. “Petayn sounds distracted. Could he be having troubles of his own?”

“Other senior officers who believe they're better qualified to be marshal?” Alastar pursed his lips for a moment. “Wilkorn is next senior, but I didn't sense any friction between the two. It was as if they were talking about two separate problems. If Petayn has difficulties, I can't believe they're with Wilkorn. I don't even know who the other senior officers are. I didn't exactly think I'd have to worry about the officers in the High Command when I became Maitre.” At the look on Alyna's face, he added, “I know. I should have, because everything affects the Collegium, but I was under the misimpression that I might actually have a little time to work out the problems. I had no idea Fhaen was as ill as he was.”

Alyna raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, as soon as I got here, I knew, but by then … well … it was clear that Obsolym and Desyrk didn't want me; no one thought Cyran was experienced enough; and no one had talked to Akoryt or Taryn … or any of the Maitres D'Aspect. With so many things left undone, it seemed like all my time was spent trying to discover what needed to be done and how … and then Ryen started in on the tariff matter.”

Alyna gathered the papers she'd spread on the desk and rolled them up swiftly, then tied them in deft movements with a red velvet cord. “What do you
feel
will happen next?”

“That somehow everything will go back the way it was, and I'll have to do more of what I didn't want to do … and be even harsher.”

“That sounds about right. Even after all that's happened, they're all likely thinking that you wouldn't dare do more.” At Alastar's expression, she added, “Yes, I am even more cynical than you, dear Maitre. Ryen was furious at being balked by the High Holders, and they were doubtless outraged that he dared to demand more from them. Petayn and the army officers are likely furious and chagrined at the damage a handful of imagers wrought. If Petayn cannot find a way to best you, in some fashion, he may not survive as marshal.” She paused. “I need to go. I have an instructional in little more than a quint.”

“I'll walk you out.”

After following Alyna, Alastar paused outside the study. “Dareyn … do you know where Maitre Akoryt is?”

“I believe he's in the anomen. Something about organizing instructionals.”

“Thank you. That's where I'll be. I'll be back well before I have to leave to meet with the High Council.” He turned back to Alyna. “I'll go with you as far as we're going the same way.”

She nodded, but did not say more until they were alone on the porch, when she offered the smile with the hint of mischief. “Although we're both headed to the anomen, I hope your words only apply to the walk this morning.”

Alastar almost missed the first step of those descending from the porch.

Alyna reached out and grasped his arm. “I didn't mean to unsettle you that much.”

Her smile had turned to concern.

“You definitely caught me off-guard.”

“That doesn't happen very often.” Her voice was warmly amused.

More with you.
He wasn't about to voice that. “My thoughts were elsewhere.” Even as he said that, he wished he could take back the words. “I mean … I don't know what I mean.”

She laughed softly. “No one would believe you said those words.”

“I can't believe I did,” he admitted ruefully. “I probably shouldn't make it a habit.”

“Not in public, perhaps. In private, it's … I like it.” Her words were low. She flushed. “Now I'm the one off-guard.”

“As you just said … in private … or just when the two of us are without others around, it's allowed.”

Neither said anything for several steps.

“You're not what I expected in a Maitre,” she finally said.

“That makes us even. You're definitely not what I expected in the daughter of a High Holder, but then it's clear your holding isn't like most, either.”

“And?” Alyna spoke the single word humorously.

“I'm very glad of it.”

When Alyna and Alastar entered the anomen, he could see Akoryt standing several yards away, talking to Iskhar. Alastar turned to Alyna. “I'll see you later.”

“I do hope so.” Her words were cheerfully pleasant. She turned toward the side corridor.

That left Alastar wondering as he waited for Akoryt to finish his conversation with the chorister. Before long, Iskhar nodded a last time to Akoryt and then turned and headed toward the back of the anomen, presumably to his own study.

Akoryt turned and walked over to Alastar. “You're obviously looking for me, Maitre. What can I do for you?”

“I've been thinking over my meeting with Rex Lorien and the reactions of Acting Marshal Petayn. I have the feeling that the marshal may have less than honorable activities in mind. Can you deploy thirds who can handle concealments so that they can get close enough to see anything unusual on or around the High Command headquarters? There will be some preparations for Rex Ryen's memorial services on Samedi, but I'd like them to look beyond that.”

“I might have to use a few seconds, and they and some of the thirds would miss instructionals.”

“We'll have to make those up later.”
The last thing we need is to be unprepared if Petayn has something else in mind.
“Also … perhaps some more conventional patrols along the East and West River Roads.”

“We can do that.”

After more discussions with Akoryt, Alastar returned to the Maitre's dwelling, where he then spent time with Arhgen planning the Collegium's immediately forthcoming expenditures.

A little less than a quint past noon, he was in the saddle once more, riding the gray gelding northward on the West River Road, accompanied by Neiryn and Coermyd.

“Sir … do you think there will be more fighting,” asked Coermyd deferentially.

“I hope not, but that's not up to me or anyone in the Collegium. That depends on the rex and the High Holders.”
And the senior army officers.

“After all they did?”

“The rex hasn't seen the damage. He only knows his father died. One High Holder is dead. We're the ones whose people were killed and whose buildings were destroyed.”

“Lots of troopers died,” offered Coermyd.

“You're right. That has some of the army officers concerned, but none of them seems to consider that they died because they were trying to kill us when we hadn't done a thing to them.”

“It doesn't make sense, sir.”

It makes too much sense, given the way people want power.
But Alastar wasn't about to try to explain that, not while riding, anyway

When they reached the Chateau D'Council, the thirds waited outside in the chill air, while a very nervous footman—the one who had always met Alastar—avoided looking at Alastar as he escorted the Maitre to the receiving study. Little appeared to have changed except that instead of the four armchairs being set around a low table, the low table had been replaced by a circular table and another wooden armchair had been placed at the table. Alastar suspected the circular table was older and perhaps somewhat worn, because it was covered with a maroon linen cloth. The four High Holders rose from the original armchairs, leaving little doubt for whom the wooden chair was intended.

“Might I ask the purpose of this meeting?” Alastar looked to Vaun.

The one who responded was not Vaun, but Haebyn. “I thought the remaining members of the High Council needed to hear exactly where matters stand and to discuss what we should do, especially before we are faced with another unreasonable demand from the new rex.”

Unfortunately, Alastar could well understand what Haebyn had in mind. He smiled coldly. “Where matters stand is that the rex and the High Council will come to an agreement on tariffs. Rex Lorien has ordered Submarshal and Acting Marshal Petayn to recall all army units to their bases and not to make any more attacks on High Holders or the Collegium.”

“There have been no attacks on High Holders,” declared Nacryon.

Moeryn smiled faintly and knowingly, and Alastar wondered just what the High Holder from Khelgror knew.

“Army cannon and troopers were in position to bombard High Holder Guerdyn's chateau when they were recalled. His personal chateau, not the Chateau D'Council here.” Alastar snorted. “The Collegium has had enough of destruction and squabbling. Rex Ryen refused to desist in his unreasonable demands. That was because the tariff issue was only a pretext for him to bring a series of attacks on the High Council and the High Holders, as well as against the Collegium.” Alastar could see puzzled expressions on the faces of Haebyn and Nacryon. “Rex Lorien has agreed to be more reasonable.”

“Then … there will be no increases in tariffs?” Haebyn began to smile.

Alastar understood that Vaun was going to take the easy way, the political way, and make Alastar lay out the terms. “There will be tariff increases.” Alastar looked squarely at Haebyn. “I'm not asking the High Council to consider an increase in tariffs. The Collegium and I have had enough of this bickering over coppers. Rex Lorien will publish a tariff increasing the tariffs by four coppers on a gold for the coming year, and announce the possibility of smaller increases in the following years.”

“That's opening the gates to continual increases,” protested Nacryon.

“You cannot possibly expect the High Council to agree…?” Haebyn's tone was somewhere between dismissive and snide.

“Then, one by one, beginning with you, every remaining High Holder on the Council will die, until the Council agrees.”

“That is a strong promise. You cannot—”

Alastar clamped shields around Haebyn, then continued as the High Holder began to turn red. “Marshal Demykalon is gone. Rex Ryen is gone. High Holder Guerdyn is gone. A half a battalion of troopers are gone. Do you really believe that we cannot remove enough of you that any of this High Council will remain?”

Haebyn flushed even more, unable to speak. Nacryon swallowed and glanced from Haebyn to Vaun, then to Alastar. Moeryn nodded.

After several moments of silence, Alastar released the shields.

Haebyn offered an explosive exhalation and then began to gasp for breath, staggering and putting his hands on the table to steady himself.

“Are you sure that Rex Lorien will agree?” asked Vaun mildly.

“Rex Lorien has declared that he will have a proposal ready later this week. He has also asked Acting Marshal Petayn for a plan to reduce the number of army regiments, and to transfer some to locations along the Southern Gulf in order to reduce piracy by eliminating shore bases for piracy.” Alastar wasn't about to mention the naval marines, because they would be needed far more than land troopers. “Sea Marshal Wilkorn has been asked to provide a plan to build some smaller craft to deal with the pirates and for a longer-term increase of larger vessels to combat the larger ships of Jariola and Ferrum. Depending on the actions of the High Council and the High Holders, there may be an even greater shift in time.”

“And if they go back on their word?” asked Vaun.

“Then the Collegium will be forced to deal with them once again.”

“Why is the Collegium insisting on this so … forcefully?” Vaun's voice remained level.

“Because it appears that no one else wishes to reach an agreement. The Collegium does not wish to suffer any more injury and insult. Imagisle is a mass of rubble. Many young imagers are wounded. Some may not live. You have suffered comparatively little. These terms are indeed a bargain for you. If you do not wish to accept that bargain, we will be more than happy to increase the price.”

“That's not a bargain,” declared Haebyn. “You're imposing your will on others.”

“Absolutely. But both you and Rex Ryen wished to impose your wills on each other and Solidar suffered. So did the Collegium. We're insisting on compromise. We're not even asking for anything more.”

“This is absurd,” declared Nacryon. “We have no choice.”

“Oh … yes, you do. The same one that Rex Ryen or Marshal Demykalon had. It is a choice. A few coppers more on each gold, and the rest of your life to enjoy most of those golds.”

“It is a choice,” observed Vaun. “Not terribly appealing…”

“You have a choice,” pointed out Alastar. “So did Ryen. The student imagers who were killed had none. Nor did the cooks who died preparing dinner, nor … a great number of innocents.” Alastar offered another cold smile. “I won't ask for your decision. The Collegium will act—or not—based on what it is. Good day.”

A small pistol appeared in Haebyn's hand, firing as it appeared.

The unexpected impact on Alastar's shields forced him back, even as the small iron ball rebounded from those shields.

“Dear me.” Alastar drew out the words, then imaged a long knife through each of Haebyn's boots and deep into the carpet and tile floor beneath, pinning Haebyn in place.

The High Holder screamed, if but for an instant.

Nacryon stood there, his mouth open.

Even Vaun swallowed. The faintest smile crossed Moeryn's face, but was gone so quickly that Alastar doubted any of the other High Holders had even seen it.

“I won't be nearly so generous if any of you should be so foolish as to attempt any further violence upon any member of the Collegium.” With that, Alastar turned and walked from the study, strengthening his shields more as he did.