Endgames

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

“Good morning,” offered Charyn.

  “Aren’t you the cheerful one?”

  “It’s a pleasant morning, if a touch warm.”

  “Hot is more like it.” Bhayrn looked to Therosa. “A lager, please … and whatever the Rex is having. He has good taste.” He looked to Charyn. “Don’t you, Brother?”

  “I tend to be more interested in breakfast than you are.”

  “You haven’t eaten yet?”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “How thoughtful of you. You’re now being more thoughtful to all of us. I even told Laamyst that you’ve started returning to Solayi services. He was surprised. He didn’t think you were that strong a believer in the Nameless.”

  “Part of that, as you must know, is that it’s a way of seeing Aloryana when she’s free to see me. She wasn’t for a while.”

  “I said you were being thoughtful.”

  “I hope so. Sometimes thinking does lead to kinder or more productive ideas.”

  Therosa returned with a beaker and a pitcher of lager.

  Bhayrn filled the beaker, then took a healthy swallow before speaking again. “Since you’ve been thinking and waiting for me, one of those ideas must have something to do with me. Something you’ve calculated.”

  Charyn ignored the barb. “Of course. You’re not only my brother, but my heir.”

  “Only for a while. I’ll never be Rex. You’re too careful.”

  “Then … if that’s what you believe, don’t you think you should spend some time learning about how a holding works?”

  “That’s what landwardens are for.” Bhayrn paused. “Since you’re Rex, are you going to gift me the Chaeryll lands?”

  “No. I’ve been managing them for the last three years, and that’s why they earn more than they used to. But I have spent late glasses for the last week going over the regial properties looking for those that might be the most suitable for you.” Charyn paused while Therosa set a platter before him and then one before Bhayrn. In addition to the ham strips and the cheesed eggs, each of the brothers also had a small warm loaf of dark bread.

  Rather than say anything immediately, which he might regret, and also because he was hungry, Charyn ate several bites of the ham and eggs before continuing. “I’d thought of Lauckan, the High Holding north of Laaryn. You’d be High Holder Delauck. You could, of course, change the holding name, which most High Holders can’t.”

  “That’s even farther from L’Excelsis than Rivages!”

  “There’s nothing to prevent you from having a mansion in L’Excelsis, since you’ve made it clear that you don’t want to be too deeply involved in running the holding.”

  “I suppose it’s a beggared holding you’d like to pass off.”

  Charyn shook his head. “It’s been in the family for hundreds of years. Rex Clayar stripped it from the High Holder’s heirs after the High Holder refused to pay tariffs and attacked the regional governor. It took imagers to extract and execute him, but they also rebuilt and strengthened it, and more lands were added. Its revenues are more than adequate—they’re greater than those of the Chaeryll lands by a fair amount—provided you don’t totally run it down.”

  “You’re giving it to me now?”

  “No. Not until you turn eighteen. That’s the customary age of assumption, and that’s if Mother says you know enough to take care of it.”

  “You’re a bastard, Charyn.” Bhayrn snorted. “You’ve made your point. I’ll leave for Rivages tomorrow. I don’t need to watch your lovely little dinner party … or be a hanger-on at your so-called family gathering.”

  Charyn looked coldly at his brother. “You’ve been moping and hinting for more than a season. I’m giving you a very good High Holding, one of the best…”

  “You’re giving it on your terms, not mine. You want me out of L’Excelsis. I’m not like Uncle Ryentar.”

  “No, you’re not. I just said that I’m not exiling you. It’s a fine High Holding, and you can live all year round in L’Excelsis, if that’s what you want.”

  “That’s what you say now.”

  “You couldn’t legally have it until then anyway,” Charyn pointed out. “I just don’t want you to end up like our late uncle Delcoeur.”

  “I so appreciate your concern.”

  Rather than say something he was certain to regret, Charyn took several more mouthfuls of breakfast, and then a swallow of tea, before finally saying, “If there’s another holding you’d prefer—one that I can gift and has enough revenue—I’d be happy to consider it.”

  “How would I even know?”

  “I have the records in the study. Any time you want to look at them, you can come in while I’m there and look them over.”

  “I just might.”

  “It’s up to you.” Charyn stood, managing, somehow, a pleasant smile. “I need to get to work.”

  “What great and mighty problem besets you now?”

  “No great and mighty problems, just a number of smaller, but not insignificant ones, and none of them seem particularly amenable to solutions.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find or calculate some perfect solution that no one thought of. You always will, until you can’t.”

  As he walked up the small circular staircase to the second level, Charyn wondered if he was being too hard on Bhayrn. Three years ago, you weren’t exactly a paragon of virtue. After several moments, he added, You still aren’t.

  Once in his study, he immediately read the latest editions of both Veritum and Tableta.

  One of the articles in Veritum complained that the Rex should have raised tariffs on the High Holders immediately in order to build more ships and to rebuild the west river piers that had been damaged by the spring floods. As if the High Holders or factors would have paid the additional tariffs. Not without starting another revolt, anyway. Besides which, there wasn’t any way he could have built that many more ships anyway, given that he needed the new shipyard to do so. As for the piers, rebuilding them would be less expensive in late harvest when the river levels were near their seasonal low. Costs … always costs.

  He set the newssheets aside and walked to the open window, where only the faintest hint of a breeze moved past him. For a moment, Charyn absently thought about the dinner party. In a way it was fitting, because the season would change from summer to harvest at midnight on Samedi, but because of the summer heat, there was no Harvest-Turn Ball, just as there was no Summer-Turn Ball.

  “There’s a letter from the Collegium on your desk, sir,” said Moencriff, opening the study. “It just arrived.”

  “Thank you.” Charyn turned and walked to the door, taking the envelope from the guard before returning to stand at the end of the desk closest to the open window. He opened the letter and began to read.

  Rex Charyn—

  Like you, I have received a missive from High Councilor Chaeltar about the needs of High Holder Ghasphar in regard to the ability of his shipyards to formulate Antiagon Fire and his request for assistance from the Collegium Imago.

  The Collegium Imago was chartered by the first Rex Regis to educate, train, and safeguard the imagers of Solidar, as well as to support the Rex and serve the people of Solidar. One of the reasons why the Collegium opened another part of the Collegium in Estisle was because it had become increasingly clear that imagers in Telaryn were not receiving that education and safeguarding.

  The creation of Antiagon Fire is a delicate and complicated process, even for a trained imager, and many imagers have died in trying to make or making Antiagon Fire. Nonetheless, when Maitre Taurek was sent to Estisle, he was given explicit orders not to induce any adult imagers he might find to join the Collegium. I personally wrote High Holder Ghasphar to tell him that the Collegium would only be training young imagers, and would only accept adult imagers who, of their own free will, wished to join and abide by the rules of the Collegium.

  For this reason, Maitre Taurek is allowed to accept only those adult imagers who wish to join, who are
suited, and who come to him freely. He is forbidden to offer, induce, or invite any adult imager. At present, there is only one adult imager who has joined the Collegium. There are more than a half score of student imagers, children largely under the age of fourteen.

  In the past, even the fairly recent past, one of the few occupations open to imagers in old Telaryn, as imagers, was at the Diamond shipyards, making Antiagon Fire, where over half of them died. Times have now changed, and most parents prefer their children come to the Collegium. With the recent death of the senior imager at the shipyard, this has left High Holder Ghasphar without an imager capable of formulating Antiagon Fire. While I understand his concern, I cannot in good conscience force any young imager into working at his shipyards, not when it is more than likely to result in their early and painful death. Since there are only three imagers at the Estisle Collegium with the possible skills to deal with Antiagon Fire, and since they are required to educate and safeguard the young imagers, I find it inadvisable for them to assist High Holder Ghasphar. Therefore, I fully support Maitre Taurek in his decision.

  If you have additional questions or concerns about this, I will be more than happy to meet with you to discuss the matter.

  Charyn set the letter on the desk. He really hadn’t expected any other answer, but that reply and the Maitre’s clear stance weren’t going to make the next Council meeting any easier.

  Should you reply immediately to Chaeltar?

  Charyn decided to reply, but only to tell Chaeltar that he was considering the matter. Alastar’s letter did remind him that he needed to send a note to Alastar saying that he would again be joining them at the Anomen D’Imagisle on Solayi.

  9

  True to his word, Bhayrn left early Samedi morning for Rivages. He avoided Charyn totally, as he had ever since breakfast on Vendrei morning. The note he left was curt.

  Charyn—

  I’m leaving for Rivages. I won’t need to see all the other holdings. You couldn’t live with your most highly honorable self if you weren’t fair in the matter.

  Charyn had known Bhayrn was leaving because Faelln had asked him about the guards and supplies to accompany Bhayrn on the long ride to Rivages, but, if Bhayrn wanted to play the petulant child, that was his choice. Sooner or later, he’d have to grow up. In the meantime, Charyn could only hope that his brother would listen to their mother. Bhayrn had certainly been more likely to listen to her than to either Charyn or their father.

  As he settled behind the table desk in the study, Charyn couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty at inadvertently pushing Bhayrn off to Rivages, but Bhayrn had shown no interest at all in learning about anything, either from him or from anyone else in the Chateau who could teach him. And that didn’t leave many options.

  He took a piece of stationery from the cabinet and began to write. It took him three drafts before he had something that was acceptable. Then he read it over.

  Mother—

  By the time you receive this, Bhayrn may already have arrived at Ryel. If not, he should soon arrive. He may not be in the most receptive of moods.

  For the past month, especially, I have endeavored to interest him in learning about matters that would prove helpful and useful to him in the future as a High Holder. At present, he appears to be indifferent to such, as was I at his age. In an effort to encourage him to think about his future, we discussed what holdings might be suitable for him, and I suggested Lauckan, the High Holding north of Laaryn, or any other of comparable worth. I did point out that he needed to know more about the business of managing a High Holding. He was dismissive. I was less than politic and told him that he could have Lauckan or another comparable holding after he turned eighteen and after you were satisfied that he knew enough not to end up like Uncle Delcoeur. He was not amused and did not speak to me thereafter. He left a note saying he was heading to Rivages and that Lauckan was more than satisfactory, or words to that effect.

  I regret thrusting him on you in Rivages, but you appear to be the only one from whom he will take advice. I will support whatever measures and encouragement you feel will help him, as your efforts on my behalf were more than effective …

  From there, Charyn went on to offer his weekly update on what had happened in the Chateau and in L’Excelsis since he had last written. When he finished, he signed and sealed the missive and had Sturdyn arrange for its transmittal to Ryel by army courier.

  Then he read through Marshal Vaelln’s latest report on the undeclared naval war between Solidar and Jariola. As usual, Solidar had lost slightly fewer ships than had Jariola. With the newer ships being completed, the losses were not as crippling as they might have been. So far, though, Vaelln still had no word on the likely arrival of a Jariolan fleet to blockade the ports of the Abierto Isles.

  Various other matters, such as petitions, and two more suggestions from High Holders on possible names for regional governors, required thought and responses.

  By the third glass of the afternoon, Elacia and Ferrand had arrived. Elacia immediately headed for the kitchen and to talk to Norstan about what she expected of the seneschal and his staff, leaving Ferrand and Charyn in the study.

  “Is Bhayrn here?” asked Ferrand.

  “No. He’s on his way to Rivages, and the Ryel holding, to spend the first part of harvest, and perhaps longer, with Mother. I’m hoping he’ll learn something about running a holding, since he’ll have one sooner or later. How did you learn?”

  “I didn’t. I’m learning now. Mother really ran the holding, but she couldn’t stop Father from spending. She still runs the holding, but I’m watching closely and asking a lot of questions. That suits us both. Was that how it was with you?”

  “I started learning, really learning, a bit over a year ago. The social side was what I didn’t learn.” Charyn offered a wry grin. “That’s why your mother’s here … and why I’ll be leaning on her or Mother for a while.”

  “Or until you marry.”

  “That might be a while.”

  “Then why this dinner?”

  “For you, of course, and because I have to start somewhere.”

  “Any High Holder’s daughter would accept you.”

  “That’s exactly the problem,” replied Charyn. “You don’t have that particular difficulty. If a good-looking and personable young woman is interested in you, there’s a good chance she’s really interested in you.”

  “I’d rather have your problem.”

  Charyn laughed softly. “You only think you would.” He motioned. “Come with me. I need to change into something a little more formal.”

  A glass later, the two young men walked down the grand staircase to the entry foyer of the Chateau. Charyn still carried his small double-barreled pistol, concealed in his regial green dress uniform jacket, which had been tailored specifically for that, as had many of his jackets.

  The players of the string quintet appeared just after fifth glass and set up in the music room, where they could be heard through the wide arch into the anteroom, which was large enough to serve as a small reception room … and often had, although the last time had been when Charyn, Bhayrn, Aloryana, and Malyna had performed together. For Charyn, that recital seemed even more distant than the more than six months past it had actually been.

  While Charyn’s father had seldom been in a chamber when the first guests arrived, except for High Command officers or his ministers or family, Charyn wanted to be there in order to meet each party as they arrived. The string quintet began to play just before sixth glass, and the first guests to arrive in the smaller reception room, besides Ferrand, were Zhelyn D’Saeffen-Alte and Ferron D’Fhernon-Alte, slightly past the glass. Ferron immediately glanced around the reception room.

  Charyn smiled and said gently, “You two are the first to arrive, but I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, Ferron.”

  “A man can always hope, Your Grace.”

  “I understand that.” Indeed, I do. But there was realistic hope and unrealis
tic hope, and the line between the two was thin, Charyn knew, but it also cut more deeply than the finest blade. “But do be kind to the young women who will be here. Some of them may have hopes as well.”

  “Then, might I ask why you invited me?” asked Zhelyn, an amused tone in his voice.

  “Because you’re an heir who was recommended, and I trust those who made the recommendation. I understand you also dance well. Who knows? You might find someone to your liking. If not, I trust you’ll still enjoy the evening.”

  Zhelyn couldn’t quite contain an expression of puzzlement as Charyn turned toward the next set of arrivals, who happened to be Sherrona D’Plessan, and her mother. “Welcome to the Chateau D’Rex.”

  “It’s an unexpected honor, Your Grace,” replied Lady D’Plessan, “but one to which we both have looked forward.”

  “Your Grace,” was all that Sherrona offered, her eyes slightly downcast.

  “Sherrona, have you met my cousin, Ferrand, now High Holder Delcoeur?”

  The young woman looked to Ferrand, then smiled shyly. “Only at the Spring-Turn Ball.”

  “Then you should.” Charyn gestured toward Ferrand, then slipped away to meet the next arrivals, High Holder and Lady D’Almeida, and their daughter Marenna.

  “I appreciate your courtesy in inviting us to accompany Marenna, Rex Charyn.” Those words came not from the High Holder, but from his wife.

  Charyn offered what he hoped was a slightly abashed smile. “My mother and my aunt would both have been most disappointed in my behavior had I not.”

  “Are they here?” asked the High Holder.

  “My aunt, Lady Delcoeur D’Priora, is here. My mother is also guardian for the grandchildren of the late High Holder Ryel and is with them at Ryel at present.”

  Lady D’Almeida glanced around, then said, “I take it this is a small gathering?”

  “It is. Five young women and their parents, four young men, and my aunt. Besides myself and my cousin Ferrand, High Holder Delcoeur, the other young men are Ferron D’Fhernon-Alte and Zhelyn D’Saeffen-Alte. It’s a group that’s not too intimate and not too large, at least for me. I’ve found that while the dancing at balls is enjoyable, I seldom have much time to talk to people because I need to say a few words to as many as possible.” Charyn paused for an instant and added, “And I always fail to talk to someone.”