Endgames

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

“I’m sure they will. But it’s not fair for one High Holder to be tariffed, say, one silver a hectare, and another a silver and two.”

  “Most High Holders pay more than enough. That’s what Laamyst’s father claims.”

  Charyn doubted that, but he merely replied, “We’ve found, so far, that the tariffs of the vast majority don’t need to be changed.”

  “Well … if you’re not raising the levies on most of them … Still…”

  Before Bhayrn could continue in that vein, Charyn went on, “Oh, I had a dinner on Samedi with the officers of the High Command and their wives, and I’ll be entertaining again this Samedi. I’m also having a sort of family dinner on the eighteenth of Agostos, with Maitre Alastar and his family, Malyna, Aloryana, as well as High Holder Calkoran, who is Maitre Alyna’s cousin. You’re most welcome to attend, but you don’t have to.”

  “What about this Samedi?”

  “It’s partly for Ferrand, a number of marriageable young women and their parents, two other High Holder heirs, Ferrand, and me.”

  “And one potential young lady for you?” asked Bhayrn dryly.

  “I didn’t wish to miss the opportunity to learn more about several of them in a way that doesn’t make public my inclinations.”

  “Always so cautious … until it’s too late for those you wish to ensnare.” Bhayrn’s laugh was harsh. “I will attend the family dinner. I might watch the other from a distance, at least to satisfy my prurient curiosity.”

  “As you wish. Let Aunt Elacia know if there’s any special meal you’d like for any evening that you’ll be here. Oh … and you might think about writing Aloryana. She does enjoy getting letters from family.”

  Bhayrn nodded as Therosa returned with his lager. He took a long swallow, then asked, “Have you heard much from Mother? Besides asking you to nag me to write Aloryana?”

  “I promised her I’d suggest it.”

  “And you always keep your promises.” Bhayrn’s tone was almost scornfully amused.

  “She did say that she expected you would keep your word and spend the last two weeks of Agostos and part of the first week of Erntyn with her at Ryel.”

  “I promised, didn’t I?”

  “You could go earlier, if you find life here boring,” suggested Charyn.

  “Three weeks at Ryel will be quite enough, thank you, especially with all the travel.”

  “Mother did write that she’s amazed at how little Karyel and Iryella know about running a High Holding. The weather there has been as hot as here…” Charyn did his best to summarize what Chelia had written, then asked, “Have you thought about spending some time with any of the ministers?”

  “I’m not interested. Maybe later.” After a brief pause, Bhayrn asked, “Do you have any more surprises planned?”

  “You know about the shipyard in Solis. Some of the High Holders were surprised that the first warship to be built there will be a frigate, rather than a first-rater. That’s to work out any problems with the shipyard.”

  “That makes sense to me. Then, you always try to make sense. That might be your undoing. Some people don’t want sense. They just want what they want.”

  “I’ve seen some of that.” Charyn stood as Therosa returned with Bhayrn’s breakfast.

  “You’ll see more.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” Charyn smiled, then stood and made his way up to the study, where he stood looking out the window at the rear courtyard, worrying about Bhayrn and his almost aimless life. What can you do? More to the point, what could he do that Bhayrn would want to do … and could?

  After mulling that over, he picked up the folder with Sanafryt’s draft of the proposed language for not unduly contaminating the rivers and streams of Solidar. He’d read it the afternoon before, then laid it aside. He read it again, his eyes concentrating on the heart of the proposed language:

  … seeing that the waters of Solidar benefit not only immediate users and those all along any watercourse, any use of those waters that renders the water unfit for normal uses by those farther downstream thereby limits the rights of subsequent users. Likewise, excessive removal of water also limits such rights. Under the laws of Solidar, therefore, there is an obligation to use water wisely and to return any waters diverted from the watercourse back into that watercourse in a condition that does not infringe the rights of subsequent users. Those who are injured by the failure of a prior user may seek damages from such a prior user, such damages not to exceed twice the amount of proven losses and the costs of seeking redress before a justicer …

  It’s not perfect, but it won’t require the Rex to create an army of water patrollers.

  He had barely set that aside when Elacia arrived.

  As soon as she entered the study and the door was firmly closed, Charyn motioned to the chairs in front of the table desk, then seated himself behind it. “I’d like to hear what you thought of Samedi evening.”

  “And what I might have heard?”

  Charyn smiled. “Of course.”

  “Commander Chaalt was most attentive. His wife is visiting her parents. She visits a great deal. I doubt that he is pleased with that. He was also surprised that you had included Subcommander Luerryn. Varcela was reserved, but Subcommander Luerryn was somewhat less taciturn. Did you know that he was essentially under the command of Maitre Alastar at the Lake Shaelyt battle that ended the High Holder rebellion?”

  “I didn’t. He said he was at the battle.”

  “Amalie wanted to know if it was true that Maitre Malyna had been staying here and impersonating a High Holder’s daughter. I did tell her that both Maitre Alyna and Maitre Malyna were both High Holders’ daughters. She seemed disappointed. She also asked if you’d actually shot someone trying to kill you, but Marshal Vaelln said that you’d personally shot two would-be assassins.” Elacia raised her eyebrows. “Is that true?”

  “Unhappily, yes.” Charyn wasn’t sure whether he’d killed Guard Captain Churwyl or the blast had, but he’d certainly wounded Churwyl fatally before the blast.

  “Ferrand never mentioned that.”

  “What else?” prompted Charyn.

  “They were talking about the weather, and Maurek said that they’d had to ship supplies from Solis to Westisle for the ships and garrisons there because the early rains had washed out the crops in the west of Antiago and then the heat had baked the fields, and the peasants and tenant growers were starving. Vaelln added something about the fishing fleet out of Tilbora having had a bad year so far as well.”

  Charyn frowned. While he’d known about the rains in Antiago, the governor hadn’t sent any word about the heat and people starving, and he’d certainly heard nothing about the fishing fleet. “That was all?”

  “Mostly, except speculation about how soon you’d get married and to whom.”

  “Thank you, both for the information and for being charming.”

  Elacia inclined her head.

  “I’d appreciate it if you would think about a dinner in late Agostos for some of the local High Holders, those likely to feel less appreciated or those who may feel I’ve not been duly attentive…”

  “I’ll start on that immediately.”

  Once Elacia left the study, Charyn returned to considering what to do with Bhayrn, but that didn’t last long because Sturdyn announced Minister Aevidyr.

  “I’ve received two more suggestions for the regional governor of Telaryn,” said Aevidyr, even before he reached the chairs to which Charyn had gestured.

  Charyn thought for a long moment about which High Holders had created the most trouble, waiting until Aevidyr had seated himself. “Would one of them be a close relative to any late High Holders, such as Cransyr or Guerdyn, or even High Holder Haebyn?”

  “Your Grace … as I have pointed out…”

  “I know. I understand that. Now … is either of them related to any of those three names?”

  “Ah … Saeblen D’Thurl, he’s the younger brother of High Holder Thurl. He’s married t
o High Holder Haebyn’s sister.”

  “Forget him,” said Charyn. “Who’s the other?”

  “Rikkard D’Niasaen.”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s the junior son of High Holder Niasaen. That’s a smaller High Holding near Cloisonyt. I don’t recall exactly where, except it’s not far from High Holder Douvyt, I understand.”

  “Did Douvyt recommend him? To whom is he married?”

  “Douvyt wasn’t the one. Rikkard’s married to a woman named Lylana, from Rhodyn. That’s another hold I don’t recall.”

  “Keep that name as a possibility.”

  Aevidyr raised his eyebrows. “But we don’t know anything, really, about him, except that High Holder Thysor recommended him.”

  “Aevidyr, so far everyone that you’ve mentioned that we do know anything about isn’t someone I’d feel could be trusted as a regional governor. What do you know about Thysor?”

  “He’s from an old family near Extela. The holding has extensive timberlands, and he ships large quantities of timber to Solis. That’s about all I know.”

  “Keep this Rikkard D’Niasaen as a possibility.” He’s likely the best we’ve received so far. That also wasn’t saying much, Charyn knew. Before Aevidyr could protest, Charyn asked, “How did you come to be Minister of Administration besides the fact that Father picked you?”

  “I was fortunate to be the regional minister of administration in Liantiago, Your Grace.”

  Charyn nodded. “That explains your wealth of experience.”

  “I would hope so, Your Grace.”

  Aevidyr had no sooner departed than Sturdyn opened the door slightly and announced, “A missive from High Holder Chaeltar, sir.”

  Charyn walked to the door and took the sealed missive, knowing that he wasn’t going to like what was inside. After slitting the envelope and extracting the contents, he began to read.

  Your Grace—

  A matter of some import has just come to my attention. At the last meeting, Marshal Vaelln reported to the High Council that the Diamond Thuyl sank a Jariolan frigate before being sunk by a rated Jariolan warship. Because the Diamond ships are armed and carry cannon that fire shells containing Antiagon Fire, they have been most helpful in dealing with Jariolan warships and privateers …

  Charyn wondered how long it would take Chaeltar to get to the point, but he kept reading.

  … despite the significant losses suffered by High Holder Ghasphar at the hands of the brigandish Jariolans. As you may know, Antiagon Fire cannot be made except by an imager. For generations, some imagers of Telaryn have served the High Holder in this capacity. With the untimely death of his imager armsmaster, however, High Holder Ghasphar finds himself unable to adequately arm his ships. This is because all the young imagers in Telaryn are now being gathered into the Imager Collegium at Westisle, and none wish to pursue the honorable craft of their predecessors …

  Untimely death? Possibly due to the dangers of making Antiagon Fire? Charyn turned his eyes back to the letter.

  … High Holder Ghasphar has brought this problem to the attention of Maitre Taurek, who heads the Collegium at Estisle. Maitre Taurek has declined to supply any imagers to assist High Holder Ghasphar, and, as of this writing, Maitre Alastar has not responded to my inquiries …

  Meaning that you wrote him at the same time you wrote me, but you’re wording it that way so that you can get me to act sooner.

  Charyn finished the letter and laid it on the desk. At that moment, he definitely wished he’d searched more diligently for a private secretary, but after the difficulties with his uncle had been resolved, it seemed as though he had little need of one.

  Leaving the letter on the desk, knowing he shouldn’t do anything until he had more time to think it over, he left and made his way to Alucar’s study.

  “Your Grace?” The Finance Minister stood as Charyn entered.

  “Alucar? Do you have any figures on how much it costs to support the four regional governors?”

  “Not immediately at hand. If you want such figures, it will take a few days because some of the costs are paid by the High Command.”

  “You mean, the battalions assigned to each regional governor? Their supplies and the like?”

  “That, and the portion of import tariffs that go to the regional governors.”

  Charyn stiffened. “You never mentioned that.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

  “There’s still a great deal I don’t know. Father never mentioned that, and neither did you. At least, I don’t think you did.” Charyn paused and added ruefully, “Unless it was more than a year ago. I wasn’t listening as well as I should have been back then.”

  “If you’re thinking about doing away with them, who will collect import tariffs and the like?”

  “What about the Vice-Marshal of the Navy? Three of the regional governors are located where we have warships and installations.”

  “Would you save that much? You’d still need the clerks and others who collect the tariffs and keep the records.”

  “That’s true, but I think I’d trust the navy’s record-keeping more than that of the regional governors.” Charyn paused. “That reminds me. Have you ever heard of a High Holder Thysor? Supposedly, he ships timber from Extela down the river to Solis.”

  “Thysor?” Alucar nodded. “Yes, he does. While the ship hulls will be live oak from the edge of the Sud Swamp, he was recommended for supplying timbers for the masts and spars. Very trustworthy from all reports. Why? Have you heard otherwise?”

  “No. He just recommended someone to be considered for the regional governor of Telaryn, and I didn’t know anything about him, and neither does Aevidyr. The man he recommended is Rikkard D’Niasaen.”

  “I’ve never heard of him, either.”

  Charyn wanted to shake his head. The names most High Holders forwarded were names of people he didn’t trust, and the only other one was someone who seemed unknown. Except Thysor had at least some people who thought him trustworthy, and most people who were trustworthy in one area tended to be trustworthy in other areas. But that’s a very slender reed. “I’d still appreciate those numbers sometime in the next week or so.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Charyn started back to his study, his thoughts went back to Chaeltar’s letter.

  He knew he had to write a letter to Alastar about the Antiagon Fire. It just galled him because that was exactly what Chaeltar wanted him to do, but there was no help for it.

  At that moment, Bhayrn hurried toward the grand staircase.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Laamyst is coming to pick me up. I thought it would be safer in his coach than in one of the regial coaches, even the unmarked ones.”

  “I’ll walk down with you. It will do me good to get away from the study.” Besides, Charyn hadn’t actually seen Laamyst in a while, and Bhayrn was spending a fair amount of time with him. As Charyn recalled, Laamyst was about a year older than Bhayrn, but the two had become closer after the assassination of Charyn and Bhayrn’s father.

  “Suit yourself,” replied Bhayrn amiably.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just to his father’s river mansion north of here, not the town place on the east side of the river…”

  As Bhayrn continued speaking, Charyn couldn’t help wondering just how many houses, mansions, lodges, and villas that High Holder Laastyn actually had.

  “… I’ll be there for dinner, and for plaques after that. Gherard will bring me back.”

  “Gherard?”

  “Gherard D’Ghaermyn.”

  “Is he the heir?”

  “He is. Why do you ask?”

  “I just wondered. You haven’t mentioned him before.”

  “That’s because I got to know him better through Laamyst.”

  “That’s thoughtful of someone you haven’t known well for long.”

  “Isn’t that what friends do?”

  �
�If you’re fortunate, and you appear to be.”

  The two waited quietly in the shade at the top of the steps until Bhayrn said, “That’s his coach.”

  Charyn followed his brother down to the lowest step, which functioned as a mounting block, and waited until the coach came to a stop and the footman opened the door.

  Laamyst looked to be taller than Bhayrn by several digits, with reddish-blond hair, a fair skin, a pug nose, and a sprinkling of freckles on his face. His hazel eyes smiled with the rest of his face as he saw Charyn. “Your Grace … it’s been a while. It’s good to see you again.”

  “It’s good to see you. You and your family have been very kind to Bhayrn, particularly given all that’s happened.”

  “It’s been our pleasure. Mine, especially, since I’d be spending too much time with my sisters otherwise, or, worse, with my female cousins.”

  Bhayrn eased past Charyn and into the maroon coach trimmed with traces of silver. “I likely won’t see you until tomorrow.”

  “Don’t wager too much.”

  “We don’t play for golds, or even coppers,” replied Laamyst. “That’s too good a way to lose friends.”

  Charyn stepped back and let the footman close the coach door. As the coach turned away, he headed back up the long white stone steps to the main entry, wondering, not for the first time, why the Chateau had been built with so many steps in the front, but also knowing that trying to change it would have been impossible, if not incredibly expensive, given how it had been restored by imaging.

  8

  On Vendrei, Charyn was up early, despite having worked late in his study the night before, as he had for several nights, reviewing all of the properties that belonged to the Rex—not really to him personally, but to whoever held the title. In the end, one property seemed far better for his purposes than any other.

  After exercising, meeting with Undercaptain Faelln, since Maertyl had Vendrei off, then washing up and dressing in his greens for the day, Charyn made his way to the breakfast room to enjoy a mug of tea while waiting for Bhayrn. He had a second mug before his brother appeared.