Madness in Solidar (71 page)

He smiled as he saw four figures walking up the stone walk on the west side of the green, one of them markedly smaller than the other three. He was still smiling when Alyna reached the steps of the residence.

“You look happy this morning,” she said with a smile.

“So do you.” Alastar nodded to Akoryt and the two thirds, then gestured toward the front door. “We'll meet in the study.”

Once everyone was inside the study, with the door firmly closed, Alastar turned to the two thirds. “Because of the attacks on the Collegium and the obvious fact that the detention cells have been effectively destroyed, neither of you served your full time in detention. Waiting until the new administration building is complete and then requiring completion of that time seems rather ludicrous at this point. It would also be a waste of your talents. Therefore, you will serve in another fashion, and successful completion of that service will result in your restoration to full tertius status and privileges.” Alastar turned to Bettaur. “With one exception in your case.”

He paused, then resumed, “
Any
failure during that service will result in an immediate hearing before me to determine your fitness to ever become a full imager.” Alastar looked at Taurek. “Failure for you includes, far from exclusively, I might add, use of imaging against others, although personal protection shields are allowed and encouraged, or any use of physical force against others. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Alastar turned to Bettaur. “I am very much aware of your tendency and past acts in manipulating others for personal gain and to injure others, either through words, personal charm, notes, and various forms of misrepresentation, not to mention covert use of imaging. And even the use of oil on the shoes of other student imagers.” Alastar paused as he watched the young man try to conceal his surprise, then said, “Unlike in the past, everyone will be watching you. If you attempt any of those, any of them, you will also face me in a hearing—and that could happen any time until you are qualified as a maitre. In that sense, you are on probation until you are deemed worthy to be a maitre. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Bettaur's voice was subdued.

“You both will work at imaging every day under the direct supervision of Maitre Alyna, or in her absence, the direction of Maitre Akoryt or any maitre I may designate. If any maitre has the slightest difficulty with either of you … and that includes notes, plots, schemes, or rumors, you will face a hearing.” Alastar smiled coolly and looked straight at Bettaur. “You did see what happened to Maitre Desyrk, I believe.”

Bettaur swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Alastar turned to Akoryt. “Would you like to add anything?”

“I think you've covered everything.”

Alastar looked to Alyna.

“Yes, I would.” She turned her black eyes on Bettaur. “You have great personal charm, and you could be a good imager. In fact, you could become one of the more important imagers in the Collegium in time. That is, if you work for everyone's good. Or … you could also turn out exactly like Desyrk—except you wouldn't live that long, because I detest spoiled pretty boys who rely on charm and manipulation rather than work to develop their skills and talents.” Her voice was like ice as she finished.

Bettaur actually paled.

So did Taurek, Alastar noticed.

The study was silent for several moments before Alastar spoke. “Have we made matters clear enough?”

“Yes, sir … and Maitre Alyna,” Bettaur said quickly.

“Yes, sir,” said Taurek almost simultaneously.

“Good,” said Alastar. “You will wait here for Maitre Alyna during the maitres' meeting in the dining room. You will begin by assisting her in the rebuilding of the Collegium, which will likely leave you exhausted enough that the temptation for any sort of mischief should be greatly reduced. You will also follow her instructions in all matters dealing with imaging and the Collegium.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once Alastar closed the study door and stood in the hallway with Alyna and Akoryt, he added, “I would appreciate it if they were required to image to the point of exhaustion, and that such imaging require perfection.”

“Those were already my thoughts,” replied Alyna.

Akoryt nodded. “Bettaur will still bear watching. I'll talk to all the maitres about it.”

“That would be good,” said Alastar.

“If you'll excuse me for a bit—until the meeting?” asked the red-haired maitre.

“Of course.” Alastar refrained from smiling, although he appreciated Akoryt's sensitivity.

As Akoryt headed for the front door and the porch, Alastar did smile … at Alyna. “I'm glad we share the same views.” After a pause, he asked, “Do you think we got the point across?”

“If we didn't, they will deserve what they will get.”

“Now … for the maitres.”

“In a quint.” She offered a mischievous smile. “Might I prevail upon you for a quick tour of the upstairs?”

“I'd be delighted.”

They returned to the front hall just before the anomen bell chimed seventh glass, and entered the dining room behind Gaellen, who turned his head as he entered. “I'm sorry, sir, but I had to redo the splints on Kaylet's wrists. It took longer…”

“Today … we have a little time,” Alastar replied cheerfully.

Once all the maitres were seated around the table, Alastar stood so that all of them could hear him. “I felt that all of you should know the complete story of what has happened over the last several weeks … or as complete a story as I've been able to piece together. Some of what I'll tell you has an element of supposition. It has to, because those who could tell us are dead. There were several factors that combined to create the mess we have just survived. First, Ryen felt as though he had been played by Maitre Fhaen and the Collegium, and that he had been handing golds over to us with no value in return for years. As prone to anger as he may have been, as I've said earlier, he was absolutely right about that. But he was so angry and impatient that he was unwilling to give us any time at all to remedy that problem. He told me bluntly that Fhaen had advised him badly, and that he would not take the same advice from me. The High Council refused to accept the possibility that tariffs needed to increase. It also felt that the Collegium would do nothing, since it had done nothing to show its power in well over a hundred years.

“Then there was Lady Asarya. She was angry with Ryen, and for reasons we do not need to discuss, favored her younger son over the elder, perhaps because Lorien resembles his father as well as for other reasons.

“Add to this distasteful brew Marshal Demykalon, who felt, with some justification, that Solidar was not being governed as wisely as it could be. He felt that, if he could destroy or even weaken the Collegium, then he could eventually use his position as marshal to either rule through Ryen or Lorien or supplant them entirely. In his anger and fury, Ryen tasked Demykalon with using enough cannon fire to force the Collegium to assassinate enough of the High Council to get his unrealistically high tariffs accepted. Demykalon agreed to this order because he thought he could weaken the Collegium, although he knew the High Council would never accept a tariff increase of one copper on a half silver. No one could accept a raise of one part in five in a single year. But I believe, from what he said, that he thought he could work out an arrangement with the High Council to become rex with a token increase in tariffs. He had already increased the number of regiments in the army above that set forth in the charter. In pursuit of his own ambitions, he promoted Chesyrk to commander and gave him the orders to bombard the Collegium. It can't have been by chance that he assigned the one senior officer in the entire army who he was certain would carry out those orders, because Desyrk had fled to him with tales of his demotion and my supposedly unfair treatment of him.

“I had no idea that Desyrk knew Lady Asarya, or that she had such hatred for her husband and her elder son, but with Ryen and Demykalon dead, she saw her opportunity. I doubt we'll ever know all the details, but she clearly enlisted Chesyrk and Desyrk. Desyrk was furious at me and the Collegium, and Chesyrk felt that he'd been passed over and marginalized by both Demykalon and Petayn. Chesyrk had been a favorite of Marshal Ghalyn, who often took him to the chateau to brief Rex Ryen. There he met, most likely in passing, Lady Asarya. Desyrk was handsome and charming. She was attractive. Then Demykalon became marshal, and Chesyrk was no longer a favorite and possibly felt he might not even be promoted to commander.

“I can only surmise that the two brothers, with prompting by Lady Asarya, told Petayn that they'd capture the anomen, not try to destroy it, and remove Lorien as rex. They'd make Ryentar regent for young Charyn, and Petayn would continue as marshal.”

“That wasn't the real plan at all,” said Alyna.

Alastar shook his head. “Desyrk wanted his brother to be rex. He would have liked that for himself, but egotistical as he was, he knew that wasn't possible. The next best thing was for Chesyrk to take over the army. The use of Antiagon Fire in the anomen to kill both Lorien and Chelia—that's what they had in mind—would point the finger at the Collegium, and the army would be able to hunt down imagers—or drive any survivors into hiding, or into becoming a hidden adjunct to the army, the way Desyrk had become, and that would have made the marshal of the army the most powerful man in Solidar and the rex little more than a puppet…” Alastar paused, letting the impact of what he had said sink in before continuing. “When Taryn, Shaelyt, and I saved Rex Lorien and Lady Chelia, and when we all destroyed Chesyrk and the troopers attacking Imagisle, Lady Asarya did not know that we had survived the Antiagon Fire in the anomen, and she immediately announced Lord Ryentar as regent for young Charyn.”

Obsolym's mouth dropped open.

“When we returned to the Chateau D'Rex yesterday and confronted her, she admitted that she had wanted Ryentar to be rex all along. Rex Lorien was merciful, and wise, in not ordering more killings. He disinherited his brother, but created him as High Holder Regial in Montagne, but forbid him ever to return to L'Excelsis on pain of death. Lady Asarya is accompanying him under the same strictures. The only surviving senior officer of the armies, although he has a broken arm and a broken leg, is Marshal Wilkorn. He is providing a company to escort the lady and the High Holder to Montagne. They should be out of the Chateau D'Rex by eighth glass. Oh … and Rex Lorien has signed the tariff proclamation and sent it to the High Council. They will accept it.”

Alastar was well aware that he had bent the truth in places and that he had left out the worst parts of Asarya's treachery, but he'd told enough, and bringing in what Ryel had done would only damage Chelia and weaken Lorien. Certainly what he had told was true in spirit, if not in every single fact, as far as he'd been able to determine, because the ability to determine some of those facts died with those who had lived them.

For several moments, the dining room was silent.

“Ahem…” Obsolym cleared his throat. “As the oldest, if not most senior maitre in ability, I'd like to say that Maitre Alastar has managed to guide us through a most dangerous situation. He deserves our support and thanks.”

“He does indeed,” added Akoryt.

Several others murmured what appeared to be approving words, although Alastar could not make them out. As the words died away, he spoke again. “We have a Collegium to rebuild, and, as before, Maitre Alyna will be in charge of that … starting in about two quints.”

Alyna glanced at him.

“Oh … and there's one other thing.” Alastar found he didn't quite have the words at hand, not the eloquent ones he'd planned. “Maitre Alyna has consented to marry me. As soon as practicable.”

“About time for both of you,” said Obsolym.

Alastar found himself blushing and tongue-tied.

 

E
PILOGUE

Alyna held a large leather case in her hands as she stepped into the private study that had become both of theirs. She looked toward the study desk.

“You can put it there,” said Alastar. “What is it?”

“You'll see.” After lifting the top of the case and easing it back, she drew out a finely worked brass instrument of some kind, consisting of a small brass telescope slightly over a third of a yard in length, set above a circular brass plate. That plate was in turn mounted so that it could swivel both up and down, with brackets set on each side of another brass plate, this one a half circle. At the bottom of the half circle was some form of mounting bracket.

“What is it? Where did you get it?”

“It's a very good telescope diopter. Zaeryl sent it.” She smiled. “There was a note saying that if I was going to survey avenues that he'd have to pay for, I needed better tools.” She smiled more broadly. “He also said it was my belated wedding gift, since I'd proved I had no interest in jewels or finery.”

“Quite a gift.”
Especially since it likely cost more than jewels or finery.

“The note was the best part.”

“Oh? What did he say?”

“Quite a number of things, some of which you can read … a little later.” She smiled broadly. “Actually, you could read them now, but I'll make you wait … a glass or two, anyway. He said that I'd proved I didn't need a husband and then went and married the most powerful man in Solidar to spite everyone. He also said that Vaelora would have been proud.”

“I thought he said you weren't supposed to speak about her,” Alastar teased.

“To others. That doesn't include family, and since you're family…” She slipped her arms around him.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR