Madness in Solidar (62 page)

“But they would lose far, far more.”

“They have over seven thousand troopers just here in L'Excelsis, and it appears as if the Collegium is the only force capable of keeping the marshals from getting their way.”

“What about the High Holders?”

“They're spread out all across Solidar, and I doubt any have a guard force of even a hundred.”

“Do you really think…?”

“I could be wrong. I hope I'm wrong. But if I'm right, and we're not prepared…”

“I see your point, sir. I'll get right on it.”

Less than a quint after Akoryt had left, Dareyn appeared at the study door with Arhgen.

“Sir? Do you know if Rex Lorien has rescinded the reduction in the monthly stipend for the Collegium?”

Another thing you forgot to ask about.
Except it wasn't that Alastar had so much forgotten as not wanted to bring up at the times he had met with Lorien. “At the moment, it appears that the reduction remains in force. That's likely to remain so at least until the matter of the High Holders' tariffs is resolved. Hopefully, that will be accomplished before the end of the month, but whether that happens remains to be seen.”

“Then you wish to avoid unnecessary purchases?” asked Arhgen.

“That's correct, but some purchases still may have to be made. If Petros doesn't purchase winter fodder now, then we may not be able to obtain any at any price by mid-Finitas. If you have questions…” Alastar almost laughed. That was clearly why Arhgen was at the door. “Come on in, and we'll go over what everyone tells you is absolutely necessary, and we'll see what really has to be purchased now and what purchases can be put off.”

In the end, going over what Arhgen had questions about and working out how much of what could be purchased and when took almost two glasses. Then Alastar went to find Obsolym. The elder Maitre D'Structure was in a smallish room in the anomen finishing up a basic instructional for primes. Alastar waited until they all left before approaching Obsolym.

“Yes, Maitre?”

“Some things have come up. Once more, I need your knowledge and insight. Was Desyrk in charge of instructionals and student discipline before Maitre Smarthyl left for Mont D'Image?”

“No, sir. Smarthyl was. He thought he would be senior maitre, but then Maitre Cyran demonstrated all the abilities of a Maitre D'Esprit. Maitre Fhaen suggested that Smarthyl might be happier to take over the senior imager position—that's the head position there, you know?”

Alastar forbore observing that he'd known that for many years, only nodding. “When was that? Do you recall?”

“A little over five years ago. It might have been longer.”

“That was about the time when Bettaur came to the Collegium, wasn't it?”

“Around that time. I couldn't be sure.” Obsolym tilted his head. “No … Bettaur came just after Smarthyl left. I remember that, because Desyrk should have been the one to settle incoming students, but Maitre Fhaen and Desyrk did it together. Maitre Fhaen said that there were certain students who needed to be eased into the Collegium, and he wanted Desyrk to know how and when to do that, and Bettaur was the first one of those.”

“Tertius Arion arrived after Bettaur, then?”

“Several months later, as I recall.”

Alastar nodded. “Thank you.”

“Might I ask why you wanted to know, sir?”

“I just wondered how close Bettaur might have been to Maitre Desyrk, and if he was, how that might have happened.”

“I wouldn't say that they were close, but once Bettaur was settled, I don't think Maitre Fhaen ever asked about him.” Obsolym raised his eyebrows, suggesting that Alastar hadn't really answered the question.

“I'm trying to figure out who Desyrk might be seeking support from, besides his family, and since he seemed to bend over backward for Bettaur, I was just thinking…” Alastar shrugged.

“But Bettaur's parents are dead.”

Alastar shook his head. “His mother and his guardian are dead, but it doesn't matter because from what Bettaur and you have said, Desyrk wouldn't seek out Bettaur's father.”

“If you already knew…”

“After the way you've seen how Bettaur twists the truth, would you trust his unsupported word?” asked Alastar sardonically.

Obsolym offered a rueful smile. “I fear I see your point.”

“Thank you. I won't keep you longer.”

As he walked back toward the Maitre's dwelling, Alastar couldn't help thinking about the situation. Lady Asarya was a cousin to Smarthyl and linked in some way to Ryel the elder, who had been Lady Chelia's father and most likely Bettaur's as well. Desyrk had accompanied Marshal Ghalyn to the Chateau D'Rex, and someone had whispered his name in presumably a less than casual way. Yet Smarthyl had left L'Excelsis more than five years earlier to go to Mont D'Image on the seemingly flimsiest of reasons. Why?

Does it even matter?

Alastar had the feeling that all those entangled relationships had a definite bearing on his own difficulties, but, again, he didn't know enough to sort out how or why. He set aside those questions once he reached his study … and the master ledger he needed to study again.

Slightly after first glass, Dareyn rapped on the door. “I have a message from the rex.” He held an envelope.

Alastar rose and crossed the room to take it. “Does he expect a response?”

“I don't think so. The courier just delivered it and left.”

Alastar frowned, then took his belt knife and slit the envelope. He scanned the few sentences with the precise signature of the rex immediately below it.

In view of matters, and because I have not completed my draft of the tariff proclamation, I have postponed this afternoon's meeting until tomorrow afternoon at fourth glass …

Alastar couldn't say he was totally surprised with the first sentence.

You will doubtless be pleased to know that Marshal Petayn has sent a missive confirming that he is immediately moving more than a regiment to Lucayl as you recommended. The first units are already moving south.

That was all. Alastar looked to Dareyn. “I need to find Maitre Akoryt. Did he say where he was going?”

“No, sir.”

“I'll try the anomen and then the stables. If he shows up here in the meantime, have him wait for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alastar did manage to find Akoryt, if leaving the stables.

“Maitre … I was coming to tell you that I have the thirds in position to see, as well as they can, what is happening at army headquarters.”

“You'll likely have to make some adjustments. I've just received word from Rex Lorien that he has been informed that Marshal Petayn is immediately relocating a regiment south and east to Solis.”

Akoryt frowned. “If all they're doing is moving a regiment to the south…”

“You can't prepare to move an entire regiment in three days. That means they're up to something else. Since the best route to Solis is by the river roads, and since the best road south, at least as far as Caluse, is the West River Road, no one will think much of them traveling that way … but that means they can be very close to Imagisle. I want to know how many troopers are leaving headquarters, and where they are at all times. I also want to know what the troopers remaining at headquarters are doing.”

“Do you think they'll really attack Imagisle?”

“I have no idea what they have in mind,” temporized Alastar, “but the last thing we need is to be surprised.”

“Yes, sir. I'll make the adjustments.”

When Alastar returned to the Maitre's dwelling, Alyna was waiting … in the study.

She rose from one of the chairs in front of the desk as he entered. “Dareyn said it was all right if I waited here.”

“Perfectly all right.” Alastar smiled.

“I've finished the plans. I don't see any reason why we can't start on the foundation for the dining hall or the administration building tomorrow.”

“The dining hall first, I think,” Alastar replied. “You can start, as you can, tomorrow, but we have another problem. Just a small one,” he said ironically. He went on to explain, everything from the meetings to Lorien's stalling, Petayn's regimental “relocation” and even the memorial services. When he finished, he asked, “Do you think I'm overreacting?”

“You may not be taking the threat seriously enough.”

“Go on.”

“What if the threat isn't against the Collegium at all? What if Petayn is playing Lorien? Or both of you? Think about who will be at the memorial services on Samedi.”

“Lorien, Chelia, Lady Asarya, Ryentar…”

“… and you. What happens if something goes wrong … or if the army takes the chateau while you're all at the services and then bombards the anomen?”

“There would be quite a few people killed. Their cannon aren't that accurate.”

“Who were you thinking of accompanying you? Two or three thirds.”

“Probably two. Akoryt has most of them scouting what the troopers are doing.”

“You need to take more than seconds or thirds to the service. Shaelyt and I could accompany you.”

Alastar shook his head. “We don't know what Petayn will do. I'd feel more comfortable with you and Cyran here.” He paused and said in a lower voice. “Cyran will listen to you, and the others will listen to him.”

“Shaelyt won't be enough to support you.”

“I'll take Taryn as well, then.”

“That's good. He has solid shields.” She paused. “Do you still think we should start building tomorrow?”

“I doubt very much is going to happen the day before memorial services. I don't think you should do any building on Samedi, though. Tell everyone you'll need to measure and check the foundations … or something like that.”

Alyna smiled. “That's not a bad idea, although I'll have to stake the foundation lines today. Otherwise, they won't be anywhere close to true.”

While she spoke, Alastar was very much aware just how close she was … and how much he wanted to reach out and draw her into his arms—and far more than that.

Suddenly, she wasn't talking, and neither was he. They just stood there looking at each other.

Then she smiled and said softly. “Not yet. Not now.” She stepped back, just a half step, before adding, “We'll start at seventh glass tomorrow morning.” Blushing, she went on, “Imaging the foundations of the dining hall.”

Alastar managed not to grin, although he found himself smiling. “I thought I was the only one who had words come out inadvertently.”

Alyna shook her head ruefully. “You make care very difficult, Maitre dear.”

“You make me forget I'm Maitre.”

“That isn't good. Not now.”

“I know.”
But it's hard not to think about how much she means … after not caring for so long.

“So do I.” She smiled again. “I'll see you tomorrow. You are having a meeting of senior maitres in the morning, aren't you?”

“Yes. Everyone should know what's happening.”

“And what might happen.”

“That, too.”

“I need to go.”

Alastar almost reached for her hand, but instead gestured toward the study door. “I'll walk out with you.”

“I'd like that.” She actually took his hand.

Alastar could feel that her hand was trembling, and he squeezed gently. “So would I.”

When they passed Dareyn, Alastar had the feeling that the elder secondus looked away. Once outside on the front porch, he glanced to the west. “Looks like rain coming in.”

“It does.” After a brief pause, she added, “I hope we never have to resort to talking about the weather, except when it matters. Not to come up with words when we have nothing to say.”

“I'll remember that,” said Alastar with a smile.

“That would be good.” She stepped away, then offered a last smile before turning and heading down the steps and along the paved lane toward her cottage.

He watched until she was out of sight.

“Maitre Alyna smiles more these days,” said Dareyn when Alastar walked back to the study.

Alastar almost said, So do I, instead replying, “I don't have any way to compare.”

“Trust me, sir. She looks happier since you became Maitre, especially the last few weeks.”

“I understand she and Maitre Fhaen were barely cordial.”

“Like winter between them, but most of the maitres seem happier since you took over. Most of the imagers, in fact.”

“Even with all the troubles?”

“All times have troubles, sir. It's not the troubles, but how you face them.”

“That's true, but I'm afraid we're not finished with facing them.”

“You'll find a way, sir.”

Alastar certainly hoped so.

 

36

For the next several glasses Alastar busied himself with various small tasks that had languished, while he pondered on just what Lorien had in mind, on what exactly Petayn had planned, and while he waited for Akoryt to return with any news about the army. It was less than a quint before sixth glass, just after Alastar had hurriedly eaten some supper with a tableful of thirds, by the time Akoryt returned to the Maitre's dwelling.

Belatedly, Alastar imaged two lamps into light as he ushered the red-haired Maitre D'Structure into the study, then sat behind the desk. He leaned forward. “What have you discovered so far?”

“Not much. There's definitely a regiment readying to move out. They've got supply wagons and cannon lined up—”

“How many cannon?” interrupted Alastar.

“Not that many. Five, from what Akkard reported.”

“Are they the new ones, like the ones that fired on the Collegium?”

“They look the same.”