Treachery's Tools (40 page)

“Is that you, Maitre Alastar?”

“Is that you, Churwyl?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. You can come down here once Maitre Cyran and the others arrive.”

“Ah … sir?”

“We've flushed out the shooters in the front, and Maitre Cyran is working on those on the north side of the chateau.” Alastar turned when he saw Cyran, Arion, and Taryn appear as if from nowhere, clearly the result of their having dropped their concealments.

He waited until Cyran reined up a yard or so away.

“We got rid of them.” Cyran offered an expression of distaste.

“They would have shot anyone they could have,” replied Alastar, “just the way they did with our young imagers. How many were there?”

“Eighty or so.”

Alastar nodded. “Not quite a company back there, perhaps two in all. How many escaped?”

“Maybe a handful. They made it to the stables, and then went out the west door and used the wall on that side for cover. Arion got one or two when they looked up, but I'm fairly certain a few escaped.” Cyran frowned. “How did they think that they were going to take the chateau with a few companies?”

“I don't think they did. I have a very uneasy feeling that they expected reinforcements … and that those reinforcements still might be on the way.”

“That makes more sense,” agreed Cyran.

“I need to talk to Lorien and let him know what has happened. Keep everyone here and ready. If those reinforcements arrive, do as much damage as you can, until I get back. If you need to, withdraw into the chateau.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alastar didn't miss the hint of resignation in Cyran's voice, but he turned toward the chateau. “Guard Captain Churwyl … you can join us now.”

After several moments, one of the heavy brass-clad doors at the main entry opened, and the guard captain appeared, then hurried down the steps. He stopped two steps above the pavement, so that he was close to eye-level with Alastar. “You got them all?”

“About a handful escaped. Most didn't. When did they surround the chateau?”

“Right around noon. These wagons appeared. Men in brown started carrying those iron shields into position. Other men in brown started shooting at the guards on the steps here. In less than a quint, they had the shields set up and they were settled in behind them. We did get a messenger off to Army High Command, but … you can see … no one came.”

“If troopers had come, they might not have been the ones you expected.” Alastar's smile was cool. “I need to see the rex. I assume he's unharmed?”

“Yes, sir. He's … unharmed.”

And doubtless furious.
“Then we should tell him what happened.” Alastar dismounted and handed the gelding's reins to Shaelyt, then looked to Cyran. “I'll be as quick as I can be.” Turning back to Churwyl, he said, “Lead the way, Guard Captain.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alastar followed Churwyl up the steps and into the chateau, keeping his shields fully up, if close to his body. That took somewhat less effort. When he crossed from the top of the grand staircase to the north corridor that held Lorien's study, he thought he caught a glimpse of Chelia in the half-open door at the end of the corridor.

Churwyl reached the door and immediately announced, “The imagers destroyed the attackers, sir.”

“I saw that! Tell me something I don't know!” Lorien's voice was so loud Alastar had no trouble at all hearing it even through the heavy wood of the closed door.

“Maitre Alastar is here to see you.”

Alastar opened the door and strode into the study, leaving Churwyl to close it behind him.

Lorien stood by the north window, glaring at Alastar. “It took you long enough! Where's the sow-begotten army?”

“I don't recall your sending for us,” Alastar replied dryly. “We came because we thought there might be trouble. That was after the High Council—except Meinyt—declared their support for your successor. It was also after some three hundred armed riflemen besieged Imagisle behind iron shields like those surrounding the chateau. It did take us a while to deal with those matters.”

“Deal with? You'd better not have come up with some mealy-mouthed agreement—”

“Something like a cannon shell hit the receiving study of the Chateau D'Council just as the meeting formalizing their conspiracy to overthrow you, destroy the Collegium, and suppress the factors was coming to an end. None of the four conspirators survived. Meinyt, I suspect, is still under High Holder guard. At least several other conspirators—including Caervyn—were not at the meeting, and it's likely that some of the army was part of the revolt, but we haven't had time to find that out.”

“Why not?”

“Because we were dealing with the High Council, an attack on Imagisle, and making certain you and your family were safe. That is a fair amount for one afternoon.”

“Who else besides Caervyn?”

“Most likely his son. Commander Marryt is Wilkorn's chief of staff. And since Cransyr's son was instrumental in that business with the rifles…” Alastar wasn't certain how much more he really wanted to say at the moment, especially since anything else would have been speculation. “As for others, that may take a day or two to discover.”

“It's treason. That's what it is, and every last one of them should be drawn and quartered … or burned alive, if not both.”

Alastar did not comment on the physical impossibility of doing both. Nor was he about to mention the fact that Caervyn's daughter was married to Ryentar. Even mentioning that was likely to send Lorien into a rage.

“Did you let any of the bastards outside escape?”

“We killed almost all of them. Three or four might have escaped.”

“You should have gotten them all.” Lorien paused. “Still … I have to admit, with over a hundred of them out there, only letting four escape likely wasn't bad.”

“No … not with only six imagers on the spur of the moment.”

Behind Alastar the study door opened, and Taryn hurried through, an envelope in hand. “Maitre, sir,” said Taryn, ignoring the red-face Lorien, “this is an urgent message from Marshal Wilkorn. Maitre Dylert brought it. He and a company from the Army High Command just arrived. The army had a rebellion, too.”

As Lorien gaped, and Taryn slipped out of the study, Alastar quickly opened the message and began to read.

Maitre Alastar—

I regret to inform you that two battalions have rebelled against my command and that of Rex Lorien. One battalion is now apparently under the command of Subcommander Hehnsyn and the other under Commander Marryt. Both departed High Command early this afternoon after a series of explosions in numerous buildings across the base. I regret my tardiness in reporting these developments, but the collapse of part of the main headquarters building and other damages effectively imprisoned me and severely injured Vice Marshal Vaelln. Sea Marshal Tynan is, of course, in Solis.

In the course of his departure, Subcommander Hehnsyn also removed close to 1,000 of the spare heavy rifles and a considerable amount of ammunition. Both battalions marched south. Scouts report that they appear to be continuing along the river road in the direction of Caluse.

Caluse?
As soon as he thought the question, Alastar was afraid he knew the answer, but he wasn't about to say anything until he had confirmation from Wilkorn.

Following our discussion this past Mardi, Vice Marshal Vaelln and I began a thorough review of procurements and transfers of field officers over the past year and a half. It appears that the majority of field grade officers and company commanders in the two battalions are either junior sons of or otherwise related to various High Holders. I would not have considered the matter earlier, but it appears the fact that Commander Aestyn is the second son of High Holder Breussyrd may also bear on the gravity of the situation.

Aestyn—the commander who requisitioned a thousand more rifles—and who is in command of the post at Ferravyl?
The more Alastar was discovering, the less he liked the picture that information was painting.

The remaining two battalions here at headquarters remain completely loyal, and we stand ready to support the rex in any fashion that we can. I trust you will convey this to him, since I felt using your services might be more reliable.

When he finished reading, Alastar handed the sheet to Lorien.

The rex read through it, his face seemingly flushing more with each word. “This … it's outrageous! How could they…?”

“You're the one who ordered Wilkorn not to replace Hehnsyn … as I recall,” said Alastar icily.

Lorien glared again, but did not speak.

“You're fortunate,” Alastar said calmly. “If that cannon shell had not exploded at the Chateau D'Council, I expect that both those battalions would have arrived here to reinforce those shooters. That was likely the original plan.”

“Why are they heading to Caluse?”

“To join up with the regiment commanded by Aestyn at Ferravyl and the other rebels, likely already on the way from Ferravyl … and to make use of all those stolen rifles … and the thousand others Aestyn requisitioned earlier this year, supposedly for maintenance purposes. If I'm counting correctly, the rebels are backed by a considerable number of High Holders and have no less than three thousand trained troopers armed with heavy rifles and heavy rifles enough to equip another two thousand men.”

“I told you that the High Holders were nothing but trouble,” declared Lorien.

“And I agreed with you, and suggested that you not give into them.”

“What good did that do?”

“It may have hurried their plans and resulted in the death of four of the chief conspirators, among other things.”

“That's not enough.”

“It's better than their being able to cause more trouble,” Alastar pointed out.

“If you don't have anything else to add, I've had enough trials for today.”

Alastar didn't argue, but inclined his head, then turned and left the study.

When Alastar stepped out through the main entry of the chateau, a Solidaran officer stepped forward and inclined his head. “Maitre Alastar … Major Luerryn. We've deployed two companies to protect the rex and the chateau. Marshal Wilkorn sends his apologies for not being here personally, but he suffered a broken arm and some formidable bruises in the explosions.”

“I'm very glad you're here, Major. The marshal's letter indicated that the rebel battalions were headed south. Is that still the case?”

“We believe so. We've posted scouts well south of L'Excelsis on the West River Road that leads to Caluse to alert us in the event that changes.”

“I appreciate that. I'm certain that Rex Lorien will as well.”

“Is there anything else you'd suggest, sir?”

“Not at the moment. Now that you and your men are here, we'll be returning to Imagisle. If you need assistance of the kind we can provide, don't hesitate to send a messenger.”

“Thank you, sir.”

When Alastar reached the bottom of the steps and then mounted, Cyran looked at him inquisitively.

“We're heading back to see what else has happened.”
And what else you've overlooked.
There had to be aspects of what happened that Alastar didn't know or had overlooked because even two regiments of rebels weren't enough to overthrow Lorien, and whoever was behind the rebellion had to have known that. Alastar also had the sinking feeling that he might just have played into their hands by killing the four councilors.

How could you have known? Because it was too obvious? Too easy?

He turned the gelding eastward and started down the stone drive toward the ring road, half-dreading what might be waiting for him at the Collegium.

 

23

When Alastar finally reined up outside the administration building on Jeudi afternoon, it was already two quints past fifth glass, and he found Alyna striding out to meet him even before he began to dismount.

“Are you all right?” she asked immediately.

“I'm fine. A bit sore.”
And that's an understatement.
Alastar wouldn't have been as sharp as he was, he suspected, if he hadn't drunk the entire second water bottle of dark lager on the way back from the chateau.

She studied him intently. “You're stiff. I can see that, but your eyes aren't pink. That's good.”

“I was good. I managed to drink my lager. What about you?”

“No more attacks since we routed the riflemen in midafternoon.”

“Good.” Alastar turned to Cyran. “Since there haven't been any more attacks here, have everyone ride to the stables, and then return here for a brief meeting. Oh, and gather as many senior maitres as you can find.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ah … would you mind taking the gelding and have the ostlers unsaddle and groom him.”

Cyran laughed. “I think we can manage that.”

“Thank you.” Alastar handed over the reins, then turned back to Alyna. “We might as well walk to the conference room.”

“We can. Now … what happened at the chateau?”

“Not as much as could have…” From there Alastar gave her a brief account of all that had happened, as well as what he had learned from Wilkorn's message and from Major Luerryn, ending up with, “All that suggests an effort well planned by a High Holder not on the High Council.”

“By someone who at least half-expected the possibility of you removing the High Council,” replied Alyna. “That means they've thought this through. They may even have wanted the council removed because that would leave the High Holders leaderless … and willing to follow whoever was ready to lead.”

“Which means I've been set up.”
Again.