“Several years ago.”
Charyn noted a faint curl to Laevoryn’s lips. “I take it you didn’t get on.”
“You might say that.”
“He’s not the most … solicitous of men,” said Dercya in the breathy tone that was already annoying Charyn.
“As the Maitre of a group that has some imagers with great powers, he likely has to be rather decisive and effective,” suggested Charyn.
“Effective for the imagers, no doubt,” replied Laevoryn. “Aren’t you concerned about that kind of power?”
“I have to be concerned about many different kinds of power, unhappily,” said Charyn wryly. “High Holder Ghaermyn was telling me about ruffians who are trying to break loom frames and factorages.”
“I’m most certain that any High Holder who needs to engage in commerce and any factor can take care of their own. It would be preferable that way, especially if those in commerce would at least show some deference to culture and tradition.”
“What aspects of culture do you find most vital and important?” asked Charyn, partly curious and partly probing.
“The lasting traditions of society. The perpetuation of manners. Sculpture, because it lasts and reminds one of history. Personally, I also appreciate the customs of the hunt. A good hunt should be a work of culture. An appreciation of food and spirits.” Laevoryn looked to Charyn, almost challengingly.
“I’m more interested in music and history,” replied Charyn.
“Don’t you think music is … so ephemeral?” asked Laevoryn, not quite dismissively. “It’s so of the moment, and then it’s gone.”
“Like the morning mist,” added Dercya breathily.
“I don’t know about that,” interjected Kastyl. “You can remember a good melody for a lifetime. We still listen to the works of composers like Covaelyt, and he’s been dead more than four hundred years.”
“Or Farray,” added Lady Kastyl.
Ferrand nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on Laevoryn.
“How many people really know who Covaelyt was?” countered Laevoryn.
“How many people long remember who anyone was?” said Ferrand. “People hum or sing melodies without knowing who wrote them or why. Some music does last.”
“Power is what lasts,” declared Laevoryn. “Everyone in Solidar knows about the first Rex Regis.”
“Everyone also knows who Rholan was,” suggested Lady Kastyl, “and he had no power. He only had words.”
Charyn nodded to Ferrand and moved away, wondering if Laevoryn was always as opinionated, and making a mental note to ask Alastar about Laevoryn on Solayi … among other things.
He made his way toward the last group of people with whom, as a group, he had not exchanged words since they arrived, one that included Shendael, Alyncya, Elacia, and High Holder Fhernon.
“You’re making the rounds, I see,” offered Shendael as Charyn approached.
“Isn’t that what every thoughtful host should do?” Charyn smiled. “That, and try to make everyone feel at ease, at least as much as possible?”
“At least as much as possible,” repeated Fhernon. “You’ve got that right. There are some who are never at ease … not if their host is the Rex.”
“That does present a problem,” replied Charyn. “If I try too hard to make such people more at ease, then they’ll worry that I’m trying to disarm them or deceive them. If I don’t, they may think I’m callous or don’t care.”
“How much should a Rex care, Your Grace?” asked Alyncya.
“That’s a question I’ve pondered, Lady-heir. The only way I can answer that is to say that a Rex should carry out his duties and responsibilities to his people and his land as well as he can, with the most care possible, but those cares should not outweigh his duty.” Charyn laughed softly, adding, “Or as little as possible, because some cares always intrude.” Before Alyncya, or anyone else, could reply, he went on. “And please don’t ask me to say what I mean by ‘as little as possible,’ because I’m very new at being Rex, and I’ll need more experience to answer that question.”
Charyn thought he saw a hint of a smile in her eyes, but that might have just been what he hoped for.
“I don’t know that any of us could answer that question fairly,” said Shendael. “Tell me, how long do you think the problems with the Jariolans will last?”
“Until they stop attacking our ships or until we destroy their ability to do so, whichever comes first. They might decide to stop before we destroy all their ships, or they might not. Destroying all their ships will take years.”
“I’m not sure that’s an answer,” said Fhernon.
Charyn smiled and said gently, “That means it’s not the answer you wish to hear, but it’s the best answer either Marshal Vaelln or I can give right now.”
“Why do we have to fight at all?” asked Fhernon. “It seems like such a waste.”
“We don’t. That is, if we don’t mind paying higher prices for tin, bronze, spices, and all manner of goods, if we don’t mind having Solidaran ships sunk until we have no merchanters, and if we don’t want our sailors turned into indentured slaves on Jariolan ships.”
“You don’t paint a rosy picture,” said High Holder Aishford, who had drifted closer as Charyn had been talking.
“That’s the best I can do,” offered Charyn.
The soft sound of chimes filled the anteroom.
“I do believe it’s time for dinner,” said Elacia cheerfully.
“It is, indeed,” agreed Charyn heartily, knowing that he had at least another two glasses of watching every word and every expression.
And that was exactly what he did for two glasses and a quint, until all the guests had left, except for Ferrand and Elacia, and the three of them stood in the main entry hall to the Chateau.
“That went very well,” said Elacia. “Better than any such dinner here in years.”
“In years?” asked Ferrand dubiously.
Elacia smiled sweetly. “This is the first such dinner for Charyn, and no one besides him has had one in at least four years.”
What his aunt wasn’t saying, Charyn knew, was that his father had been far more dour, even at his best.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Elacia said, easing away from the two.
Charyn turned to Ferrand. “Did you find out anything interesting?”
“Outside of the lady-heir’s quiet observation of you?”
“I think she was observing everyone.”
“She was,” said Ferrand cheerfully, “but you more than anyone.”
That could be good or bad. “Anything else? Especially anything about Laastyn or Ghaermyn?”
“Ghaermyn didn’t say much while I was around him. Laastyn was pleasant enough. He did mention something about several thousand hectares of timberland in Tilbor that he’d recently acquired.”
“Nothing more?”
“Not really. The usual. Kastyl was complaining about how High Holders pay more tariffs than factors. His wife didn’t say much at all. Oh … I forgot. At dinner, High Holder Laastyn was regaling a group about hunting boar on his lands in Talyon this summer.”
“What about it?”
“I wasn’t really listening that well,” admitted Ferrand. “Just that he’d had to do it because his sons and their friends hadn’t wanted to hunt boar, and there were too many for the land. He said something about your brother having an eye for a pretty woman.”
Charyn frowned. That wasn’t quite what Bhayrn had said. “What else did you hear? I was limited to what Almeida and Fhernon had to say, and Lady Almeida. She’s willing to talk, even when she disagrees with her husband.” Charyn grinned. “She likes you. She said you were extremely well-mannered.”
“Did she mention Marenna?”
“Not a word, except that she wished Marenna took music as seriously as Alyncya.”
“Did you hear anything about Kayrolya?”
“I couldn’t hear what Taelmyn or his wife said at
dinner. Earlier, Taelmyn was saying that it had been years and years since anyone in his family had been at the Chateau except for the seasonal balls. Quensyl made a veiled reference to Palenya, and I don’t think Lady Taelmyn liked it.”
“What did you do?”
“Turned the conversation to the fact that Palenya was musician for the Collegium and how it benefited Aloryana. I don’t think, if you’re interested, you’d have any trouble with either of the ladies, and given how strong-willed Lady Almeida is…”
“That’s good to know.” Ferrand paused. “I like both Marenna and Kayrolya, but…”
“But what?”
“I need to know them better. Either would be the same as far as dowers go, that is, there would be some, but nothing overwhelming.” Ferrand smiled. “So I can get to know them better and see how things turn out.”
“I told you that you’d rather have your problems.”
They both laughed.
25
While Charyn slept somewhat later on Solayi morning, his sleep was anything but peaceful, given that he’d dreamed the same nightmare that had plagued him ever since his father’s assassination, being shot by the faceless guard at the bottom of the grand staircase. He supposed such a recurrence shouldn’t be unexpected after last Solayi’s attempt by the True Believers, but it had still left him with a disturbed feeling.
Even so, he was in his study well before eighth glass, drafting a letter to Elthyrd. Even after two drafts, he wasn’t totally pleased, but he read through it again.
Factor Elthyrd—
After your last letter, I have spent some considerable time looking into ways that we could address the attacks on factorages and factors’ warehouses. In talking the matter over with a number of individuals, I found one High Holder who suggested that if I supplemented the rewards offered by the Factors’ Council, that additional remuneration might induce those who know the identities of perpetrators to reveal them.
As we have discussed, for me to employ the army, at least initially, in this effort, would likely cause more turmoil than results. I would, however, consider providing additional funds to allow expansion of the Civic Patrols in areas where violence continues, provided some additional funds are also contributed by the Factors’ Council and provided some of those joint funds are used to provide incentives for those patrollers who discover information that actually leads to the discovery and punishment of those guilty of these crimes.
The problem of violence will not be solved by punitive measures alone, not when able-bodied men cannot earn a living wage working in manufactorages and when, in more than a few cases, the workers in mills and other works are young children. I am considering amending the Codex Legis to require all those who hire individuals who are not relatives to pay a minimum level of pay for a day’s work. Such a requirement also would make the hiring of young children less attractive. In this regard, I would be interested to know what level of daily pay the Factors’ Council would recommend. I will, in time, also be asking the same question of the artisans’ guilds and of the High Holders, but I thought the factors should have the first words in this regard.
Of course, if the Factors’ Council can offer another approach to this problem, one that is both practicable and within the resources of the Treasury, I would be more than pleased to hear what that approach might be and what it would entail to implement.
As he signed it, and then sealed it, although it wouldn’t be dispatched until Lundi morning, Charyn doubted that either Elthyrd or the other factors would be pleased with his proposal.
Then let them make a better one—or keep getting their factorages burned or destroyed.
With that accomplished, he left the study and went down to the music room, where he practiced for almost two glasses, first working on “Pavane in a Minor Key” and then on the Covaelyt “Variations,” trying his best to recall what Palenya had told him about each, particularly about his fingering.
Early in the afternoon, he took his pistol to the covered courtyard and practiced with it, not just aiming and firing, but drawing it from his jacket and firing quickly, since that was likely the only time he’d need to use it. After a time, he shifted the holster and did the same with his left hand, not quite so accurately, but well enough to hit someone at close range. What was difficult for him was not to draw quickly, but to squeeze the trigger firmly and not jerk it right after the quick draw. Still, after practicing he felt better.
At fifth glass, wearing a Chateau guard’s uniform, one of an undercaptain, he mounted the chestnut gelding and rode down the rear drive with three other guards. Instead of taking the Boulevard D’Rex, he led the way north to the Boulevard D’Ouest and took it to the West River Road, which led to the western bridges to Imagisle. From what he could tell, no one paid much attention to the four riders.
Still, he wondered how long before Tableta learned about that.
Alastar came out to meet him when he reined up outside the Maitre’s residence. “You’re probably safer riding as a guard than in even an unmarked coach.”
“For now, anyway.” Charyn handed the chestnut’s reins to Dhuncan. “Thank you.”
Alastar looked to the guards. “You can put the mounts in the stable. There are refreshments for you in the small tack room.”
“I appreciate that,” said Charyn.
“You’re making the effort. Aloryana appreciates it more than you know, and we like seeing you.”
“I don’t know how long…” Charyn shook his head. “I still don’t see why someone is shooting at me right now. Even if they killed me, it wouldn’t change the situation between the True Believers and the choristers or the crafters and the factors … although I did learn on Samedi that some High Holders are also having problems…” As the two walked up to the covered porch, Charyn related the gist of what Ghaermyn had said.
“You might have somewhat better luck if the factors and High Holders agreed on something,” offered Alastar.
“They’ve agreed in the past, on the issue of tariffs, when they didn’t want to increase them. That sort of agreement wasn’t exactly helpful.”
“You changed that.”
“True, but this is a bit different.” Charyn didn’t have a chance to say more as Aloryana hurried out to the porch.
She immediately hugged Charyn. “It’s always good to see you.”
“It’s always good to see you, too.”
Before that long, Charyn and Aloryana were walking down the cottage-lined lane toward the anomen, behind Alastar, Alyna, and Lystara.
When they entered the anomen with the Maitre and his family, there were several quick glances in their direction, but no one stared. Charyn suspected that the Maitre had had something to do with that.
Iskhar’s homily at services did have one part that definitely caught Charyn’s attention, so much that Charyn wondered if Iskhar had prepared it on the possibility that Charyn might be attending services.
“… people ask why we live in such times of turmoil, as if this time of turmoil were unusual. Turmoil is not unusual. It is the human condition. We believe our turmoil is worse, because it is happening to us, as if we are more important than those who came before us and those who will follow us … that is nothing more than another form of Naming. It represents pride untamed by knowledge…”
Are all times always times of turmoil, or is life a mixture of more and less turmoil? Still, Charyn had to admit that the turmoil his father had faced was far worse than what he currently was encountering. So far, anyway.
He was still wondering about that as he and Aloryana walked back to the Maitre’s house, accompanied by Lystara, the three of them following Alyna and Alastar.
“I didn’t play anything new for you when we were at the Chateau,” said Aloryana. “I’ve been working on some harder music with Palenya.”
“You could have played one of those. I would have liked to hear it.”
“Not for the first time with people who hadn’t heard me play.
”
“I feel that way sometimes,” replied Charyn.
“Is that why you didn’t play any of your new pieces when we were at the Chateau?”
Charyn nodded.
“I’d like to hear one of them.”
“They’re hard, at least for me.”
“Maybe you should ask Palenya for help.”
“I did … when she came to tune the clavecin.”
“You never told me that.” Aloryana’s tone was definitely accusatory.
“That’s because it was a little…” Charyn couldn’t find the right word. “Painful” wasn’t totally true, not any longer, nor was “sad.” “A little awkward.”
“Because she was your mistress?”
“She was more than that.”
“I know. She told me. She also said it was better that you find someone closer to your age who can have children.”
“She told you that?”
“I asked her. I wanted to know some things.” Aloryana didn’t quite look at her brother.
“I didn’t want her to leave.”
“She told me that, too.”
“That’s why it was awkward.”
“Charyn … you shouldn’t avoid her just because you can’t sleep with her.”
For a moment, Charyn was stunned. “That isn’t it at all. It isn’t. And I didn’t avoid her.”
“Seeing her once in six months is the same as avoiding her. You’re still avoiding her.”
“I’m not. I just haven’t made an extra effort to see her.”
“For six months?”
“For some of that … well … it hurt to let go of her.”
“Good,” declared Aloryana. “It should have. It hurt for her, too.”
“Did she tell you that, too?”
“No. She didn’t have to.”
Charyn didn’t know what to say in return. So he said nothing, hoping Aloryana would volunteer more.
“You never said much about the women you had to that dinner.”
“First, you’re happy that my letting go of Palenya hurt, and now you’re asking about other women.”
“So you are interested in someone. Who is she?”
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