“I don’t think I can tell factors,” said Charyn ruefully, “how to run their factorages. While some of them might do that, I doubt most do … or would listen to me.”
“If men saw you were looking out for them…” Maertyl paused. “The guards saw that you were making things better for us. And your going to Staavyl’s memorial, that said a lot, too. So does your riding as an undercaptain. We know you can’t always do that, but when you take risks, and you’re the Rex, well … they see.”
“All I can say is that I’ll see what I can do.” Charyn paused. “What do you think about the True Believers and the choristers?”
“I can’t say I care much for either, sir, especially Chorister Saerlet…”
That makes two of us.
“… Chorister Oskaar isn’t half bad, though.”
“He’s the one who did Staavyl’s memorial?”
Maertyl nodded.
“It’s almost as though the poorer the place where the anomen is the more honest the chorister.”
“I wouldn’t say that, sir. Most likely, but not always. Where I grew up, when I was maybe nine, there was one chorister … he’d find ways to get young girls, give ’em ale with spirits, so they didn’t know what they were doing…”
“What happened to him?”
“One day he wasn’t there. No one seemed to know what happened. Some of the older folks had a talk with the next chorister. He was fresh out of their scholarium. Good man, but couldn’t give a homily with the Nameless on his shoulder coaching him.” Maertyl smiled faintly.
“You think it might work better if choristers had to post what offerings they got and what they spent them on?”
Maertyl frowned, then said, “I’d have my doubts. Good ones wouldn’t need that. Bad ones would just make up figures.”
“But if making up those figures amounted to fraud … theft…?”
The guard captain smiled. “That’d keep a few of them more in line…”
After another quint, Charyn said, “Thank you. We should keep having occasional talks like this.”
“You ought to talk with Faelln, too.”
“I’d thought of that, but I wanted to know what you thought.”
“I’ll be telling him about what you said, and he’d tell me the same. Not anyone else, though, for either of us.”
“Then I’ll do that, not immediately, but I will.” Charyn stood. “Thank you, again.”
Once Maertyl left and Wyllum slipped back into the study, Charyn and Wyllum went over some changes he wanted made to the responses Sanafryt had drafted to deal with two new High Holder petitions.
After that, Charyn turned his attention back to the problem of the manufactorages … and the secondary problem that might become more of a problem later. Paersyt had already pointed out that his steam engine—or a larger version of it—would be perfectly capable of powering a manufactorage. If he’s right, then there will be even more manufactorages because they won’t need waterwheels to power them. And that would make the wage problem even worse … but he didn’t have to deal with that just yet.
At just after third glass, Wyllum brought in the latest editions of Tableta and Veritum, both of which carried stories that said it was likely only a matter of time before a decisive naval battle between Jariola and Solidar would take place near or around the Abierto Isles. That scarcely surprised Charyn, given the reports Vaelln had been sending him, although it did indicate that the newssheets had sources in High Command.
Both Veritum and Tableta carried stories about the Factors’ Council appointing Eshmael as the factor from the Bovarian part of Solidar, something that had to have been decided even before Elthyrd’s death, Charyn suspected, since it happened so quickly. The Veritum story was short, factual, and without opinion. The Tableta story was not, at least not in one part.
… hardly surprising that the factors appointed the factor known for the lowest wages and greatest opposition to better working conditions and pay, or the one who’d pay a boy a third what a man gets … and deny that some of those boys are maimed or killed because they lack a man’s strength …
Tableta also had a short story on Elthyrd’s memorial service, which concluded with a worrisome few lines.
… a number of those attending the memorial service of Elthyrd D’Factorius were doubtless surprised to see our beloved Rex Charyn among the mourners, and even more surprised that he arrived escorted by the two most powerful imagers in Solidar—Maitre Alastar and Senior Imager Alyna. Is our Rex so worried about being assassinated that he needs their protection whenever he leaves the Chateau D’Rex, or does this mean that the Maitre is in fact the power behind the Chateau D’Rex? Does it matter?…
By late afternoon, just after he’d dismissed Wyllum for the day and while he was still pondering what, if anything, he could do to mute the continued sneering attacks by Tableta, Sturdyn brought in a single letter, with his name inscribed on the envelope in penmanship that he instantly recognized … and, in a way, almost dreaded, given the time that had passed since his last letter to Alyncya. He opened the letter, again preserving her seal, and began to read.
My dear Rex—
As usual, your most thoughtful correspondence raised questions that went beyond theory into aspects of political practicality. A thoughtful response required a certain amount of diligent deliberation on my part, for I would not wish my words to be misconstrued or to give you offense, while still giving you an honest opinion, for honesty must always be with us both.
An obvious but gentle bit of guidance … with some iron behind it … Charyn kept reading.
Your question about the distribution of rewards from improvements in a means of production is indeed a valid one, and I cannot gainsay your point that not all of the increased revenues should go to the factor or High Holder. The more practical questions are those of allocation and implementation. Indeed, how much of the increase should be allocated to the factor and how much to the workers? By what means should this be determined? Yet, while both are necessary, the resources to build, maintain, and operate a factorage are harder to come by than are workers. Likewise, should an enterprise fail, the factor loses not only the proceeds from the sales of the goods, but the golds required to build and operate the factorage, while the workers lose only their daily wage. The workers lose nothing beyond their daily work, and they may be able to find other work. To build another factorage, the factor must find and risk even more golds.
Yet, I must agree that the wages paid to workers should not be so low that they cannot maintain health and life. Not only is such cruel, but any factor who does offer such low wages will in time find that only the most desperate and least able will wish to work for him. The difficulty, as I am most certain that you have ascertained, is that in shorter periods of time, the factor who pays less may reap higher rewards. Thus, those other factors who compete with him will be reluctant to offer higher wages because their returns will be lower, and in some instances, may result in their losing coins. So none are likely to be the first to increase wages unless required to do so, and if you impose such a requirement, those factors who are either the most greedy or the least effective will complain the most. Since there are few in any field who are markedly superior, my most likely flawed opinion is that any decree on your part will create more opposition than support …
Gently cynical as she is, she’s right about that.
… Only when it becomes clear that workers cannot accept such low wages will many factors accept the necessity for change, and I would suspect that such acceptance will be rancorous and grudging.
I can say unequivocally that I was delighted to read what you discovered in the archive of the Rex about Vaelora Chayardyr and her authoring of much of the Codex Legis. I was even more pleased that you gave her the credit due her. Clearly, she was a remarkable woman. I find it regrettable that her accomplishments have been relegated to the dust of the archives, but refreshing that you have not only read them but recognized the
scale of her abilities and linked them to Maitre Alyna. I do hope that your sister Aloryana will be able to follow and build on the legacy of Vaelora.
What I also found interesting was that her husband was the first Maitre of the Collegium, yet outside of the archives less than a handful of people even know about either of them. I certainly had not heard of either until you mentioned them. That brings up another question, one that intrigues me, but could be intrusive. If it is, please do not hesitate to let me know …
Charyn frowned. There’s something implied there. Then he nodded. She’ll accept, at least sometimes, an unfavorable reply, but she doesn’t like her questions being ignored. He almost laughed softly. Alyncya wasn’t a woman to be ignored, or one who would easily accept, or accept at all, condescension.
… I would be most interested in knowing if you believe the present time is merely a repetition of past patterns of history, a distorted reflection of the past, connected to the past by only those now living … or if you have some other view of what the present time represents in the course of history.
A seemingly open question, any honest answer to which will likely reveal to her more than most men would consider wise to expose of themselves.
As I am most interested in continuing this enlightening correspondence, and learning more about you and your views, in the future I will endeavor to be more prompt in responding.
I remain, as always, with the warmest of regards,
For a moment, when he read the signature, he didn’t realize that she had only signed her first name. He couldn’t help smiling, if but for a moment.
Charyn had thought to practice before dinner, but decided, especially with her closing lines and signature, to work on a reply while he was alone in the study and had time.
Almost a glass later, he slowly read over what he had written.
My dear Lady-heir Alyncya—
I do appreciate your latest missive, questions and all, and will attempt to address them in careful candor.
I would agree fully with the way in which you posed the difficulty in the allocation of increased rewards resulting from the improvement in the methods of manufactorage. Given that difficulty, a most modest improvement in worker wages might be the best initial approach. As you pointed out most perceptively, no factor or High Holder would likely make such a decision when his competitors would not follow that example. And if the Rex were to require such an increase by decree, that decree would be met initially with rancor and bitterness, but upon consideration, it might be possible that factors would see that the cost of increasing wages might be seen as less than the costs of continued destruction, and that the imposition of higher wages by a decree modifying the Codex Legis as merely a means to allow factors and High Holders to do so and to place the blame on the Rex.
Your second question requires a certain self-examination, and therefore my response may be colored by the degree in which I may think better of my self than I should. Nevertheless, I will attempt an honest reply. I do not believe that events in Solidar, or in any land, merely repeat themselves generation after generation, with only the names and other appurtenances changing. Nor would I contend that the present time is a partial or distorted reflection of the past.
I do believe that the basic nature of man, and of woman, does not change, although the circumstances in which each generation finds itself do indeed change. Thus, we tend to react badly when we do not think, or do not think carefully, as did at least some of our ancestors. When we think matters through, we may also react in a similar fashion to those before us when they considered matters carefully. Yet each of us does differ from our forebears, and even events that seem to be similar to those in the past are only roughly so at best. Greed and pride will provoke similar responses in those susceptible to those passions, as they always have. So will a passion for thought and care. I cannot dispute that at times events of the past may resemble situations of the present, but I must wonder if such situations, particularly those in times of turmoil and trouble, reveal a failure to learn the lessons of the past, rather than an unchanging pattern of destiny. In summary, I believe while the past is a guide, and can offer lessons in what is beneficial and what is not, the present is not an immutable repetition or even a reflection of the past, except so far as it reveals the nature of man and of woman and their successes and failures.
In reflecting upon the recent past of the regial family, it has occurred to me that those Rexes who appear to have been most successful have been those who could recognize and accept wise counsel, no matter what the source of that counsel, even when it ran counter to their initial determinations on what might be the best course of action. From a reading of the archives, Vaelora Chayardyr gave wise counsel, counsel that both the first Rex Regis and the first Maitre of the Collegium heeded and accepted. I would like to think that I could be so wise, young as I am as a Rex, as to follow their example, especially if I am fortunate enough to find a woman as wise and as honest as Vaelora with whom to share the years ahead.
I trust it will not be too long before we can pursue conversations such as these in person as well as in ink, but, as someone counseled me, if indirectly, I understand that in some matters to press on rashly can be most unwise.
With my warmest regards, I look forward to your reply.
Charyn read it again, then signed and sealed it, hoping he was charting a path between being too forward and too reserved.
Then he left the study and headed down to dinner, where he found his mother, Karyel, and Iryella all waiting for him in the family parlor.
“You’re a bit later than usual,” offered Chelia.
“I had some thinking to do about the manufactorage violence and how to present the problem to the councils next week.” Charyn frowned. “Isn’t Bhayrn eating with us?”
“He said that Gherard had invited him and Laamyst to dine with him.”
“He didn’t mention that to me at breakfast this morning.”
“We don’t even see Cousin Bhayrn at breakfast,” said Iryella. “Not often. He eats later than we do.”
Charyn wondered if that might not be for the best, then stopped himself from shaking his head. “This morning he ate early with me.”
“That must not happen often,” said Karyel dryly, before smiling warmly. “I don’t see how you can eat so early. You must work at getting up early.”
“Rex Charyn exercises before breakfast,” said Chelia. “Perhaps you should join him before long.”
“With the guards?”
“With the guards,” affirmed Chelia.
Iryella looked toward the door of the family dining room, almost plaintively. When she realized Charyn was looking at her, she dropped her eyes and smiled coyly.
“I think we should eat,” Charyn declared cheerfully, barely hiding his amusement at Iryella as he recalled what his mother had said earlier.
35
Even before he was fully awake on Solayi morning, Charyn could smell harsh acrid smoke, and his eyes burned slightly. When he went to his bedchamber window, drew back the hangings, and looked out, he could see a smoky haze to the east of the Chateau, along the river, thick enough that it almost obscured Erion’s small and gibbous shape, but he saw no plume of smoke rising anywhere. He couldn’t help but wonder what factorage or warehouse had been burned. Even before he dressed, a light drizzle began to fall.
He didn’t exercise, Solayi being the day he practiced with pistols, rather than exercising, after which he asked Faelln, as the duty officer of the guard, if he or any of the guards knew anything about any fires. The best Charyn could determine from them was that the fires had been well south of the river piers.
Later, he spent close to two glasses practicing and working on his newer pieces on the clavecin. As soon as he left the music room, Chelia herded Karyel and Iryella into it. Charyn tried not to wince as Karyel began to play—the correct notes, Charyn thought, but whatever Karyel was attempting couldn’t have possibly be written in that tempo,
something that Chelia obviously knew as well, because, after several moments, the notes were played in tempo. After that, Karyel played again, somewhat closer to the tempo Chelia had played.
At least he isn’t as hard on the clavecin as Bhayrn is. Not that Charyn had seen Bhayrn on Solayi, since he’d spent the night with Laamyst at High Holder Laastyn’s L’Excelsis estate.
Charyn went to his study and closed the door. There he turned to the Codex Legis, searching to see if there were any provisions that might bear more directly on choristers, but occasionally looking outside, at the drizzle that slowly faded over the afternoon.
Just after fifth glass, Charyn donned the guard undercaptain’s uniform and then an oilskin jacket, in the event that the drizzle resumed, since there were still high clouds covering the sky, and made his way down to the rear courtyard. The four guards who were to accompany him were waiting. The five mounted and rode down the drive to the Ring Road, but took L’Avenue D’Commercia to the Sud Bridge and rode across it, then up the East River Road to the east bridge onto Imagisle.
No one even seemed to look twice at the five riders.
Charyn was still studying the clouds when he reined up in front of the Maitre’s small stable, clearly for guests because he’d never seen any horses stabled there. The clouds were neither lighter nor darker, and he left the oilskin with his mount and the guards, who were already making themselves comfortable in the tack room by the time Charyn walked up to join Aloryana, Alastar, Alyna, and Lystara.
Alastar gestured for Charyn and Aloryana to lead the way to the anomen, and Alyna murmured something to Lystara, who remained between her parents. Charyn had the feeling that Lystara had been asked—or quietly told—to give Charyn and his sister some time alone.
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