Endgames

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

  Charyn couldn’t help but wonder how Gaellen knew who he was, and that must have showed on his face.

  “I saw you at the Anomen D’Rex and asked Maitre Alyna.”

  Elthyrd looked to Estafen.

  “You sent me to tell the Rex,” said Estafen. “He insisted on returning with me.”

  A faint smile appeared on the old factor’s bruised face. “A man … can’t … do much better … than be…” A wrenching cough interrupted Elthyrd’s words.

  Charyn just waited.

  “… attended … by the Maitre … the Rex.”

  “Obviously,” said Charyn, “I came as soon as I heard. I already worried about your consumption, but to hear you were attacked … I couldn’t believe it.”

  “My health … wasn’t what it should … have been. Tried to keep that … from others.” Each word was accompanied by a labored wheezing. Elthyrd’s eyes fixed on Estafen.

  “Father’s been worried that the High Holders will claim the factors have lost control of L’Excelsis and will demand that you use the army to stop the fires and destruction.”

  Elthyrd nodded assent to his son’s words.

  “I’ve already said that would be a bad idea.” Charyn wasn’t about to point out that executing all those who were found to be setting fires and destroying goods was also a bad idea. He didn’t want to upset Elthyrd, not when he was deathly ill. “I’m trying to work out a better approach to stop the violence.”

  “Trust … Hisario … not Eshmael…”

  Charyn looked to Estafen.

  “Eshmael is most likely to be the one who will replace Father on the Factors’ Council,” explained the banking factor. “One of his manufactorages was burned. Just coincidentally, it was the oldest and least profitable, and its destruction will reduce Eshmael’s tariffs.”

  Charyn recalled that Eshmael’s name had been mentioned as losing a manufactorage to the destruction, but nothing about it being old and less profitable. He also recalled something that Alucar had explained. “Unlike the fact that the loss of a vessel won’t, as I recall?”

  Estafen looked slightly puzzled, but Elthyrd nodded.

  “So Hisario doesn’t trust Eshmael, either?” asked Charyn.

  “He … doesn’t,” offered Elthyrd.

  “Is there any other factor I should trust?”

  “Cuipryn … he’s a good man.”

  “Anyone else besides Eshmael I should beware of?”

  “Noerbyn … too close to Eshmael…”

  “I shouldn’t be tariffing you with such,” apologized Charyn. “I just came to offer my respects, and to tell you how much I’ve appreciated both your advice and your honesty. You’ve made my work as Rex much less difficult than it would have been otherwise.”

  “Helps that … you listen…”

  Despite the effort it took Elthyrd to speak the words, they still held a wry tone.

  “It would have been both discourteous and unwise for me not to listen.” Charyn held up a hand. “You don’t have to respond to everything I say. Your efforts made possible the compromise over tariffs, and that will allow us to build more warships to deal with the Jariolans, and that will benefit everyone in Solidar over time. You gave me early warning about the difficulty with the conflict over the artificers’ standard and the pay of manufactorages’ workers. And you kept confidences that allowed me to learn more about factoring than I believe any previous Rex has known. I appreciate all of that and more, and I wanted you to know that.” Too often we don’t tell others what we appreciate when they’re alive to hear it. While Charyn’s father had been anything but perfect, he had done his best, and he had loved his family, and with his sudden death, Charyn had never had that chance.

  Elthyrd nodded slowly.

  “I don’t want to take any more of your time with Estafen and the rest of your family, but I did want to say a few words to you.” Charyn inclined his head. “And, again, to thank you.” He stepped back.

  Estafen accompanied him out of the parlor.

  Outside stood Elthyrd’s wife. “You’re leaving so soon, Your Grace?”

  “Every word for him is an effort. Those words should be mostly for all of you. I did want to express my admiration and appreciation for all he’s done, both for me as Rex and for Solidar.”

  “I thank you for coming.”

  “It’s little enough for what he gave me. I wish I could do more for him.”

  “Do what you can for others. As he has done.” She offered a faint smile before turning and entering the parlor.

  Charyn took several steps down the hallway before asking Estafen, “How likely is Eshmael to replace your father as head of the Factors’ Council?”

  “Hisario will take over as the head of the Council. Whoever follows Father will represent the area of Bovaria. Most of the factors who’ve lost goods want Eshmael to take Father’s place. The others favor Kathila.”

  “I didn’t know there were women factors.”

  “She’s one of the few, and she does a fair amount of business with the Imagisle factorage. Her daughter is also a maitre—Maitre Thelia.”

  It took Charyn a moment to recall exactly where he’d heard that name. “She handles the accounts for the Collegium, I think.”

  “That wouldn’t surprise me,” said Estafen.

  “I am surprised that any factors would put her name forward.” Or any woman’s, for that matter.

  “Only a few are. Others might, but none of them want to be seen as offering an alternative to Eshmael.”

  “Might I ask why?”

  Estafen glanced around the seemingly empty hallway, then lowered his voice. “He holds grudges, and unfortunate occurrences have occurred to those who’ve opposed him.” He offered a tight smile. “The same’s true of Kathila, except those who had occurrences there, well, most folks thought they were deserved. People are wise not to cross either one, but I’ve never had any difficulties with Kathila. Neither has Maitre Alastar, I understand.”

  Unfortunately, that likely didn’t mean as much for Charyn, since only a fool would play false with Alastar, and a woman who survived and prospered as a factor in L’Excelsis couldn’t possibly be a fool. “Did your father mention that he might be crossing Eshmael?”

  “He only said that Eshmael was cross with him for not pushing you to bring in the army immediately.”

  Would that be enough to try to kill or weaken Elthyrd? Charyn had no way of knowing.

  Neither man spoke again until they were outside.

  “Thank you again for coming,” said Estafen as he stood by Charyn’s coach.

  “I wanted very much to come. Thank you for letting me know and giving me the opportunity.”

  “Father wanted you to know, and I can see why. Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Charyn could only incline his head in return.

  As he rode back to the Chateau, he realized, again, just how much more difficult dealing with the joint council would be without Elthyrd’s presence and strength of character. He also wondered who had been behind the factor’s beating. Eshmael? Except that was so obvious. But sometimes it is the obvious that’s true. As for who might replace Elthyrd … neither Eshmael nor Kathila sounded exactly ideal, at least not from Charyn’s point of view.

  32

  Just after ninth glass on Solayi morning, Charyn had finished practicing “Variations on a Khellan Melody” and was leaving the music room when Undercaptain Faelln joined him as he walked toward the entry hall of the Chateau.

  “Sir, a letter from Factor Estafen just arrived.”

  As he took the sealed letter, Charyn had a very good idea what was inside, given that it was Solayi. “You could have disturbed me. I was only practicing on the clavecin.”

  “It came a few moments ago. I waited for you to finish the piece, sir. It seemed a shame to disturb you over a few moments. I enjoyed hearing you finish it.”

  “If you’re enjoying my practicing and misfingerings…” Charyn shook his head.


  “Most of the guards and staff like to hear you play. There have been others whose playing they have not enjoyed.”

  Charyn knew who that was, but only said, “And one whose playing we all enjoyed.”

  “How is Musician Palenya faring, sir?”

  “As you may recall, she is now the musician for the Collegium, and she is doing quite well. Aloryana is still taking lessons from her, as is Maitre Malyna. When Musician Palenya last tuned the clavecin, she spent some time improving my playing on my new pieces, and she will likely be playing with the players for the Autumn-Turn Ball.” Charyn stopped and turned to face Faelln. “If this is what I think it is, we’ll have to work out some way for me to attend the memorial service.”

  “You intend to go, sir?” Faelln’s voice was without expression.

  “Factor Elthyrd was of great assistance to me. He was also the head of the Factors’ Council. We didn’t always agree, but I respect him, and I believe I should show that respect.”

  “Then we’ll manage, sir. If you would let us know of the time and place.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  Charyn had a thought, one he should have come up with earlier. “Oh … Faelln … there is one other matter. Have you or Captain Maertyl had someone watching the area around the Chateau to see if someone is keeping track of who is coming and going?”

  “Yes, sir.” Faelln paused. “The captain posted someone starting the morning after Staavyl was shot. There’s always someone looking during the daylight glasses. We haven’t seen anyone watching for any length of time, or different people watching from the same spot, or close to it. There are only certain places along the Ring Road where a watcher can see all who come and go. Well … except for the windows in some buildings.”

  “You’ll let me know if you do start to see watchers like that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  Charyn did not open the letter until he was alone in his study, since Wyllum did not work on Samedi afternoons or on Solayi. Estafen’s short missive said exactly what he thought it would, with the exception of two lines which said that a memorial service would be on Meredi the eleventh of Erntyn and that Charyn was welcome to join the family at the Anomen D’Nord.

  Leaving the letter on the table desk, Charyn walked to the window, from which a slight breeze issued. Outside, the sky was hazy with heat, but without clouds.

  He was going to miss Elthyrd—and would have even without the problems created by the conflict generated by the growth of manufactorages, the ever-increasing number of wealthy factors, and the problems of too many poorly managed High Holdings. One of which is likely to be that of your own brother before too long.

  At the same time, he was somewhat concerned about attending the memorial service, although Charyn thought that Faelln agreed with the necessity of his presence.

  The other problem he faced was the need to do more entertaining after Autumn-Turn, when the more social time of year began. Perhaps more than the small dinners for High Holders and the wealthier factors? And a word to Maertyl about the necessity of those dinners wouldn’t hurt.

  What with one thing and another, it was slightly after fifth glass when Charyn rode out from the Chateau toward Imagisle, once more wearing a guard undercaptain’s uniform, and accompanied by four other guards, one more than earlier, just in case. He again took the longer route, the one that did not pass the Anomen D’Rex, although he did wonder how former assistant chorister Faheel was doing in replacing Saerlet.

  Most likely, just fine. Charyn just hoped he was trying to look a bit behind the myths about Rholan.

  When he reached the Maitre’s house, he didn’t see anyone immediately. So he and the guards rode back to the stable and dismounted there; then he started to walk back to the house. He was halfway there when Aloryana appeared.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d be coming. You usually send a letter.”

  “I’m sorry, but last week I said I would be.”

  “I told you he’d be here,” added Lystara as she joined Aloryana.

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m just glad you’re here. You do look good in that uniform,” said Aloryana.

  “You look good in imager gray,” returned Charyn. “How are you coming with your shields?”

  “Better. A little stronger.” She sighed. “I can’t become a third, though, not until they’re strong enough to stop two bullets.”

  “You said you could stop one.”

  “I can, but stopping one tears my shields apart, and I can’t get them back together fast enough.” At Charyn’s almost horrified expression, she went on. “The Maitres don’t shoot at any of us. Not directly, I mean. I stand behind a stone barrier and extend my shield a little bit over a target. It still hurts, though.”

  “She’s getting better at rebuilding them,” said Lystara. “She’s very good at concealments, though.”

  “Maybe you should also practice how fast you can create shields,” offered Charyn. “That is, if Maitre Lystara or Maitre Alastar haven’t already suggested that.”

  “They both have,” said Aloryana, her voice almost woeful.

  “It’s not the same, I know,” said Charyn, “but it’s taken me almost a year to learn how to draw and fire a pistol accurately and quickly. I got very frustrated, even furious. What you’re doing is much more difficult than that.”

  “Do you practice that?” asked Lystara. “Really shooting when you do?”

  “Once a week, usually.” He laughed softly. “I’m not an imager. I hope I don’t ever have to use the pistol that way again, but being able to do that has saved my life twice. One of those times, though, I needed the help of an imager.”

  “Howal?” asked Aloryana.

  Charyn nodded. “I’d likely be dead without him.”

  “He’s in Estisle now,” said Lystara.

  Although Charyn recalled that, he just nodded, since Alastar and Alyna had left the Maitre’s house and were walking toward them.

  “You know about Elthyrd…” began Charyn.

  Alastar nodded.

  “Do you have any idea who might have been behind the attack?”

  “The only ones I know of who might benefit immediately are his son Thyrand and Factor Eshmael. Thyrand isn’t that sort, not in the slightest. Eshmael is, but I find it hard to believe that he’d be so obvious.”

  “But would most people think a beating is the same as an outright killing?” asked Charyn. “Maybe the point wasn’t to kill him. Not outright, anyway.”

  “That’s a good question. I hadn’t thought of it quite that way.” Alastar paused. “We can talk about this later.” Then with a broad smile, Alastar gestured toward the anomen and began to walk, saying, “Your presence may flatter Iskhar too much.”

  “More likely worry him to death,” countered Alyna. “Having the two of you listening would worry any sane chorister.”

  “Speaking of that…” began Alastar.

  “Saerlet hasn’t returned or sent word. I don’t know anything more about the True Believers.”

  “Unfortunately, I do. There was a protest last Solayi in Villerive. The True Believers tied up the chorister and weighted him with stones before they threw him in the river. Then they vanished. The Civic Patrol there found a chest filled with silvers hidden in his quarters.”

  “I can’t say that surprises me,” replied Charyn. “I hadn’t realized it was such a problem until I inspected Saerlet’s wardrobe, and discovered he was paying both an assistant and a valet, and that was in addition to the assistant chorister. I always wondered about Saerlet, but I didn’t do anything. Now…” He shrugged helplessly. “If I make a law about choristers, it will seem like I’m trying to take control of the anomens to get their golds, and if I don’t, then people will say I don’t care. If I merely say something, then I’ll be attacked for only spouting words.”

  Alastar nodded. “You’ve thought about it, clearly. So have the Tru
e Believers. Of course, none of it would be happening if so many choristers hadn’t gotten so greedy. But they obviously thought no one was watching or cared. Because anomens and choristers don’t pay tariffs, not even the Rex knew what their offerings brought in.”

  “Tariffing them certainly wouldn’t be a good idea,” said Charyn.

  “No,” said Alastar agreeably, “it wouldn’t.”

  Charyn laughed. “What are you suggesting that I’m obviously not understanding?”

  “It’s not the payment that counts here. It’s that people didn’t know.”

  “So I should enact a law that requires choristers to publish an accounting of their offerings and what they spend it on? That won’t work unless there’s some way…” Charyn broke off. “Fraud! If the accounts published to the congregation are fraudulent…”

  “That might work. In any event, it might get people to think.”

  “Is that what Iskhar has to do?”

  “He’s responsible to the Maitre,” said Alyna.

  All of which brought home to Charyn that neither he nor his father had ever exercised such oversight—or if his father had, there was no record of it. Another problem to address. He managed not to sigh.

  Not for the first time, he was beginning to wonder how Solidar had held together as long as it had … and, looking at the Maitre, he suspected he knew part of the reason. He also had the feeling that what had sufficed in the past might not work in a changing future.

  He tried not to dwell on that as he and Aloryana entered the anomen.

  As he took his place, standing beside the Maitre at the side of the anomen near the front, he realized that his presence seemed only to draw passing glances. The Maitre’s doing … or just acceptance?

  He wondered what Iskhar might say in his homily and then wished he hadn’t, because Iskhar launched into a homily on a subject that already worried Charyn.

  “… reports from several places in Solidar that a people calling themselves the True Believers are attacking anomens and choristers because they feel those choristers are not teaching the true beliefs of the Nameless. Beliefs about the Nameless, or any Deity, by their nature, cannot be true or false. For something to be proved true or false, we must have physical evidence. We have no physical proof that the Nameless exists nor do we have proof that the Nameless does not exist. We have physical proof that Terahnar exists, and we have observed the moons long enough to know they exist … but we have no proof that the Nameless imaged them into being…”