Endgames

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Endgames Page 26

by L. E. Modesitt Jr


  “It makes sense.” Even though Charyn wouldn’t even have considered it two years earlier.

  After spending a quint or so on that reply, Charyn then took Wyllum and introduced him to each of the three ministers, then returned to the study.

  “For the moment, I’d like you to copy the lists on the corner of the desk. They’re the people who’ve attended dinners here at the Chateau lately. The originals will go back to the files held by Lady Delcoeur D’Priora, who is also my aunt Elacia, and who is acting in place of my mother until she and my brother Bhayrn return from the Ryel holding in Rivages.” Charyn quickly explained that situation and then added, “The reason I want copies is to be able to refresh my memory without disrupting either my aunt or my mother.”

  Once Wyllum was busy copying the lists, Charyn began to read Vaelln’s latest report on the Jariolan situation, which remained essentially unchanged, and the completion of the shipyard buildings in Solis, two weeks ahead of schedule, although the keel on the first ship being built there would likely still not be laid until sometime in Feuillyt because the necessary amount of live oak timbers had not yet reached Solis.

  At ninth glass, Maertyl entered the study. “Your Grace … about Chorister Saerlet. Assistant Chorister Faheel has heard nothing, nor has anyone else at the Anomen D’Rex.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate knowing that. Have you heard any more about either the True Believers or the attacks on the factorages?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You might be interested to know that it is possible under the law to substitute penal naval indenture for execution for those under eighteen who have not committed serious crimes, short of murder. Marshal Vaelln has agreed that the navy will accept such youthful offenders. I’ve told Minister Sanafryt to so instruct all justicers.”

  For a moment, Maertyl’s face softened. “That’s fairer for the young ones, I’d think.”

  “Not that they’ll think any punishment is fair,” returned Charyn, “but we can’t accept burning buildings and destroying goods.”

  “No, sir.”

  “I’m still trying to work something out, but it’s going to take time. That brings up something else. Would you have someone check to see if Argentyl has ever returned to L’Excelsis?”

  “No one is likely to tell us anything, sir.”

  “You’re right. Have someone ride by his shop to see if it’s still closed up. If by chance he has returned, I’d like to see him.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. Is there anything else, sir?”

  Charyn managed not to wince at Maertyl’s even tone. “No. Thank you for letting me know about Saerlet.”

  Once the door to the study closed, Charyn turned to Wyllum. “There is one other thing…”

  “Yes, sir?” Wyllum swallowed.

  “What you hear in the Chateau stays in your head. Always. You may ask any questions you have of me when we’re alone, but you may not speak to anyone else of what you hear. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.”

  Wyllum resumed copying, and Charyn went back to reading the documents on his desk.

  When the latest letter from his mother arrived, just after second glass, he immediately opened it.

  Dear Charyn—

  For a number of reasons, I have decided that we will be leaving Ryel early on Jeudi, the fifth, several days earlier than I had planned. With some good fortune, we might arrive within a week, unless we linger at Vaestora, although that is unlikely.

  Bhayrn and I have talked over his situation, and he feels you’re being unjustly severe with him, given the expertise of the regial landwarden at Lauckan. Bhayrn has made some progress in his understandings of the basics of a High Holding, enough that, under the circumstances, perhaps you should consider removing conditions for his assumption …

  Charyn winced at those words, which essentially meant that nothing either of them could do was going to change Bhayrn.

  I’ve had several delightful letters from Aloryana, who is most pleased at your attentions and who has confirmed what you told me about your efforts to become more social. Elacia and I have exchanged several letters about the invitations to the Autumn-Turn Ball, since those need to be sent before I return to L’Excelsis. We’ve gone over the invitation list and added a few young ladies who should be invited by name, not only for you, but for Ferrand, as well as a few suitable High Holder heirs …

  Why does that not surprise me? Part of that might well be his mother’s realization that adding more young women to the specific list before Charyn made known any overt preference would also be a sound political move.

  … I do believe it would be appropriate, and necessary, for Palenya to be the clavecinist at the ball now that she is firmly established as the Collegium musician. That would also show a strengthened tie between the Collegium and the Chateau D’Rex in another manner besides the inclusion of Maitre Malyna and Maitre Alastar and Maitre Alyna …

  Charyn could also see both aspects of that, as well as the veiled hint that he was going to continue to need the support of the Collegium for more than the immediately foreseeable future.

  … would also suggest another dinner at the Chateau, this one for all the members of the two councils, and their wives, after the council meeting in Feuillyt, and possibly one for the leading factors of L’Excelsis sometime in Feuillyt as well. We can discuss these when I return, but I think you should give the idea some thought …

  In short, it can’t hurt, and it might well help. Charyn smiled.

  The smile faded as he considered the fact that his father had never undertaken any such dinners.

  30

  Charyn rose slightly earlier on Mardi morning, not by intent, but because he worried that Maertyl was more withdrawn and seemed less and less pleased with what Charyn was doing, and after what had happened with the previous guard captain, all of the changes Charyn had made would be less effective, if not negated, with an unhappy head of the Chateau Guard.

  Even so, he didn’t want to jump to the wrong conclusions. So … once he was in his study, he sent for Maertyl and then dispatched Wyllum to Sanafryt’s study with a note requesting that the minister explain the basics of law, in less than a glass, to the scrivener. The explanation wouldn’t hurt Sanafryt and would certainly help Wyllum.

  Then he waited for Maertyl. He didn’t wait long.

  The guard captain was, as always, prompt, entering with a slightly quizzical expression.

  “You sent for me, Your Grace.”

  “I did.” Charyn gestured to the chairs. “There are a few matters I’d like your thoughts about. It might take a while. First, thank you for finding out about Argentyl. I know it wasn’t likely that he’d returned, but I did need to have you confirm that he is still hiding. That’s another indication that matters won’t get better soon.” He looked to Maertyl. “Or am I mistaken?”

  “No, sir, I don’t think so.”

  “Do you have any more thoughts on who might have been behind the shooting that killed Staavyl?”

  “I can’t say that I do, sir.”

  “Maertyl,” said Charyn with a calm he didn’t feel, “the imagers recommended you as guard captain. I agreed. You’ve been loyal. You’ve been hardworking. You’ve been effective, but something is bothering you. I suspect you’re unhappy with either events that affect the Guard or the way in which I’ve handled matters … or in your view, the way I haven’t handled things. I may be Rex, but I can’t address a problem if all I know is that you’re displeased or concerned, and you don’t say anything.”

  “It’s not my place—”

  “It is your place,” interrupted Charyn. “That’s one of the unpleasant aspects of being guard captain. You’re not here, but when I meet with the factors and the High Holders, I have to tell them things they don’t want to hear, things like the fact that there aren’t enough golds in the treasury to make all the repairs to the river walls that are necessary, or that we can’t build ships faster to
deal with the Jariolans, or that we have to reach an agreement on how factors and High Holders use stream and river water so that it’s not unusable for whoever’s downstream. That’s part of what I have to do. Part of what you have to do is to let me know when there’s a problem. Maybe I can change things. Maybe I can’t, but I can explain why I can’t, or maybe you have a better idea. I can’t do any of that if you don’t tell me what I don’t know.” Charyn kept his eyes fixed on Maertyl, but he managed a soft laugh, and added, “And we both know that there’s much I don’t know.”

  For several moments, Maertyl did not speak. Finally, he said, “You’re the Rex, sir. You’ve tried hard to be better than … the others. You’re fair. You work hard … there’s not a man in the Guard that wouldn’t gainsay that.”

  “But…?” Charyn forced himself to wait.

  “Some things, here in L’Excelsis…” Maertyl shrugged in a manner that suggested he was reluctant to say more.

  “I understand. Times are changing. For some crafters and the workers, they seem to be getting worse, not better … and I get the sense you feel that, at times, maybe more often than that, I’m not doing enough … or that I should have done something else.”

  “It’s not that, sir…”

  Charyn nodded and waited.

  “… it’s that … the men see their brothers or their cousins without much on their table. They see factors dressed in silvers and with golds in their wallets. They don’t even see High Holders safe and well-fed behind their walls…”

  “They see a Rex who can play a clavecin and have others for dinner, and who seems to do little for them … perhaps?”

  Surprisingly, Maertyl shook his head. “No, sir. You take exercises. You try not to put others in danger. You do your best to take care of those here. It’s not that…”

  “It’s that they don’t see me doing enough for their brothers and cousins? Their sisters and their children?”

  “You said, sir, about there not being enough golds … Is that really true?”

  “Unhappily, it is. If you would like, I can have Minister Alucar explain to you why this is so—”

  “Your word has always been good.”

  “I can tell you it is because neither the factors nor the High Holders wanted to pay more in tariffs. That was the reason for the High Holders’ revolt. I did manage to get them and the factors to agree to pay more beginning this year, but I will not have those golds until close to the end of the year. The additional amount will not be that great, and most will have to go to building ships, because, without tin for bronze, spices, and other goods we will all be poorer…”

  “I understand that, sir. What about wages for workers?”

  “I’m trying to find a way to require factors and those who own manufactorages to pay at least a minimum daily wage. If it’s high enough, then they won’t use children—”

  “You can change the law. You’re the Rex.”

  “What happened when my sire tried to raise tariffs without getting some form of agreement? I recall when troopers loyal to the rebel High Holders attacked the Chateau. It wasn’t that long ago. Both the crafters and workers and factors have problems. I’d prefer to work out something for both that doesn’t lead to another revolt. The last time, the ones who suffered most weren’t the High Holders. They weren’t the factors. They were men like the guards. They were troopers.”

  “You make it sound impossible, sir.”

  “I don’t think it is. It’s just horribly difficult, and it takes time. With the help of Maitre Alastar, I did get them to agree to an increase in tariffs.” He looked at Maertyl. “It only took the deaths of my father, much of my mother’s family, and several guards, much less than the thousands who died in the revolt.”

  After another silence, Charyn said, “What do you think I should do?”

  “Is that why you’re entertaining High Holders and factors?”

  “One of the reasons. Another is more personal. I do need to find a wife. Right now, the only even halfway reasonable heir to the Chateau is my brother. That’s also a reason why I tend to be at least a little cautious about appearing in public. I doubt Bhayrn is ready to be Rex.”

  For an instant, Maertyl’s face froze. Then he said, “I think many people haven’t thought about that.”

  “Do you think,” began Charyn, “that the greatest concern of the crafters and workers is pay?”

  “Working conditions, too, sir.”

  “That will be harder to address.”

  “Might I ask, Your Grace … why you thought to talk to me? The real reason, that is?”

  Charyn offered a wry smile. “Because I hate seeing that blank expression on your face that suggests that either I don’t care or don’t understand.”

  Charyn could see that the directness of his words had left Maertyl momentarily speechless.

  “Ah … sir … I never meant … disrespect.”

  “Maertyl, it is a form of disrespect when you feel you cannot tell me what you think. I understand that you don’t want to correct me or tell me I’ve overlooked something in public. I don’t want that, either. I’m still vain and sensitive about things like that. But all you have to say is something to the effect that you need a few moments with me or that you have some information I might find valuable.”

  “You really are trying to help the workers and crafters, aren’t you?”

  “I am, but I can’t promise anything yet except that I’m trying. I’m also worried about the True Believers because they have a reason, at least in some cases, to be concerned about how their offerings are being spent.” Charyn offered another rueful smile. “There are rather quite a few concerns that have been brought to my attention.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, that I’ve added—”

  Charyn shook his head. “The problem is mine. I don’t have the experience to see all that I should. I need you to let me know when I may have overlooked something. That’s all I’m asking for.”

  Maertyl offered a smile in return. “I can do that, sir. Thank you.”

  “Since you’re here,” Charyn said, “why don’t you give me a verbal report on how matters are going with the Guard, who’s doing well, and what problems might come up, and what you think might be the best way to deal with them, should they occur…”

  31

  Just before midmorning on Jeudi, Norstan peered into the study. “Your Grace?”

  Charyn beckoned for the seneschal to continue.

  “Factor Estafen is here to see you, sir. He says it’s urgent.”

  “I’ll always see him.”

  “I thought so,” said the seneschal. “He’s outside.” He opened the door and stepped back.

  The black-bearded banking factor stepped into the study. “I thought I’d best see you myself, Your Grace.” Estafen glanced to Wyllum.

  “If you’d go get something to eat in the kitchen, Wyllum.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as Wyllum was out the door, Charyn explained, “I’ve had to get a personal scrivener. There are just too many papers and documents. Now … you were saying…”

  “It’s Father. He was already ill, but last night, just as he was leaving the piers, he was attacked by several men. They beat him. They likely would have killed him, except that several of the unloading crew saw the attack and immediately ran to help him. The attackers fled. Between the flux and the beating, he’s very ill. Maitre Alastar even sent Maitre Gaellen to tend to him, but … he’s likely not going to last the week.”

  “Who beat him? Or who paid the men? Does he have any idea?”

  “He said it could be other factors or workers, but…” Estafen paused. “I don’t see that. Father’s always paid his men better than the other factors do. He said they worked harder and better. The Civic Patrol is looking, but the attackers all wore something over their faces.”

  “Could they have attacked him because he’s the chief factor on the Council?”

  “That’s always possible.” E
stafen’s tone suggested neither agreement nor disagreement.

  Charyn just stood there, silently, for a long moment. “I worried about him. The last few times I saw him, I asked him about that cough. He told me it was just a temporary consumption. I hoped it was. But to hear that he was attacked … that’s something that I never expected.”

  “We didn’t, either. He asked me to let you know.”

  “I’ve appreciated his advice and help more than I can say,” said Charyn.

  “He said you’d have made a good factor, Your Grace, that you were one, in fact.” Estafen shook his head.

  “Would it be untoward if I called on him immediately … or is he…?”

  Estafen smiled sadly. “He’s still in his right mind, but he’s so weak. If you…”

  “I can go right now,” declared Charyn.

  “He’d like that, I think.”

  Less than half a quint later, the unmarked coach, with two guards in brown, rolled down the rear drive and followed Estafen’s carriage along the Boulevard D’Ouest, across the Nord Bridge, and then east to where they turned west on Nordroad, before coming to a small mansion across from Hagahl Lane. There was enough space in the drive for both teams and coaches.

  Charyn accompanied Estafen through the side entry and into a spacious hall.

  A square-faced gray-haired woman dressed in pale blue frowned as the two approached.

  “Mother, this is Rex Charyn. He’s here to pay his respects to Father.”

  Charyn could see a definite jolt of surprise. “I owe him a great deal, and he should hear it from me.”

  “He spoke well of you, Your Grace. Your presence alone says why.”

  Charyn wasn’t sure of that, but he wasn’t about to argue.

  “He’s propped up in the sitting room. He says that if he can’t die on his feet, he won’t give the Namer the satisfaction of dying in bed. Maitre Gaellen is with him. Maitre Alastar left a little while ago.”

  The red-and-gray-haired Maitre Gaellen sat in the straight-backed chair set at a slight angle to the large armchair that held the ashen-faced factor, then rose as he saw Charyn. “Your Grace, I hadn’t expected to see you here.”

 

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