Endgames

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

  “He’s in no hurry to get married, and seven or eight years’ difference isn’t that much. Mother would see that she got a decent dowry.”

  And Laamyst would be indebted to you. Charyn wasn’t about to voice that thought. Instead, he picked up the mug of tea that Therosa had set before him and took a sip before asking, “Have your friends said much about the problems between the workers and the factors?”

  “Most of them wonder why you haven’t done more. Gherard says too many of the workers at his father’s factorages are too lazy to be paid more. Why don’t you just offer a big reward for anyone who captures that artisan?” asked Bhayrn. “You know the one. The silversmith who never showed up to meet with you.”

  “I don’t know that he’s done anything wrong. I just think he knows who did.” Charyn smiled at Therosa after she set a platter of cheesed eggs, ham strips, and green melon slices before him, as well as a small loaf of dark bread. “Thank you.”

  The server nodded and slipped away.

  “It doesn’t matter,” replied Bhayrn. “If he knows anyone who’s burned anything, he’s as guilty as the others.”

  “But I don’t know that,” Charyn pointed out. “Besides, someone already burned his shop and living quarters, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

  “You’re the Rex. That’s what counts. For someone so calculating, you’re letting too many things happen. I still don’t see why you don’t turn the army out the next time those True Believers show up.”

  “There’s a small problem there. I don’t know where or when they’ll show up.”

  “Just post a company at every anomen around L’Excelsis. Sooner or later they’ll turn up.”

  “It’s more likely that they won’t show up so long as the army company’s there. Besides, there are likely a good score of anomens in and around L’Excelsis.”

  “Well then, that will keep them from showing up.”

  “Bhayrn … a company at each anomen would take more troopers than there are at High Command.”

  “Then perhaps you and Father shouldn’t have moved so many troopers from L’Excelsis.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with that, and I don’t have the golds for more troopers, not and deal with the Jariolans.”

  “Raise tariffs on the factors and crafters, then.”

  Charyn managed not to give an exasperated sigh. “I’ve just gotten the factors and High Holders to agree to the last increase.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the High Holders. They pay enough as it is.”

  “Do you want me to start a factors’ revolt?”

  “They’re all cowards. All they think about is how they can get more golds.”

  “If the factors decide not to lend to High Holders, a fifth of all High Holders will lose their holds in less than two years.” That was a guess on Charyn’s part, but he knew a significant fraction were already deep in debt.

  “That’s what the army’s for—to keep the factors in line.”

  “It might be better not to start another war,” said Charyn dryly, taking a bite of the eggs before they got cold.

  “You’re the Rex. You’re going to do what you’re going to do.” Bhayrn stood. “Are you coming to services tonight with Mother and her charges?”

  “Are you?”

  “Mother’s suggested it would be wise for me to do so.” Bhayrn paused. “You didn’t say whether you’d be coming.”

  “I didn’t, did I? Why don’t you plan on taking the regial coach?”

  Bhayrn frowned.

  “All right. I’ll use it. You and Mother take the unmarked one.”

  “Then you’re going to services at Imagisle?”

  “Most likely. Would you like to join us?”

  “No … I’ll pass on that. If Aloryana wants to see me, it’ll have to be someplace besides Imagisle.” With a nod, Bhayrn turned and left the breakfast room.

  For a moment, Charyn just sat there, stunned. Then he began to finish his breakfast.

  Once he did, he made his way up to his study, where he drafted a letter to Eshmael, suggesting that the factor might come to the Chateau on Mardi or Meredi and guide Charyn to see the damage wrought by those attacking factors’ facilities. When he finished, he set it aside, for possible revision before he had Wyllum dispatch it on Lundi morning.

  All that made him conscious of just how much he missed Elthyrd’s steady hand … and that also made him wonder, again, who would have wanted to remove such a steadying influence?

  Eshmael? Because he wanted to be a factor councilor or because he felt Elthyrd was too deferential to Charyn and the High Holders? Or could it be a High Holder who resented Elthyrd’s influence on Charyn? Or a rival factor?

  Charyn shook his head. He just didn’t know enough.

  Then he spent several glasses going over petitions, the flow of which had resumed during Erntyn, until he’d had enough of High Holder and factor complaints, at which time he repaired to the music room—except that someone was practicing, intermittently, and the notes appeared almost spiritless.

  When the playing died away, and the room was quiet, Charyn entered, to find Iryella sitting at the clavecin, disconsolately, it appeared.

  “What seems to be the matter?” asked Charyn.

  “Aunt Chelia told me I wasn’t practicing enough. She didn’t say that to Karyel, and he practices less than I do.”

  For a moment, Charyn didn’t know what to say, because what Iryella said didn’t sound like his mother. “Is that exactly what she said?”

  Iryella looked away.

  Charyn waited.

  Finally, Iryella looked up. “She said I had to practice more than Karyel because it didn’t come as easily to me. That’s not fair.”

  “No, it’s not,” replied Charyn. “Life isn’t always fair. What that means is that you have to practice more to get better than Karyel does. I had to practice more than some people. Maitre Malyna plays better than I do, but she had to work much harder at it than I did. That’s why I practice more than I used to.” One of the reasons, anyway.

  “I’ve heard you play. You’re better than Karyel.”

  “I’ve been practicing longer, I imagine. Especially in the last year.”

  “But you don’t have to practice. You’re the Rex.”

  “If I want to get better, it doesn’t matter if I’m the Rex. The clavecin doesn’t care.”

  “That’s a funny way to put it.”

  “It’s true, though.”

  Iryella frowned.

  “Do you want to practice more?” asked Charyn.

  “No, sir. Not now.”

  “Think about what I said. If you want to get better, you’ll have to work harder, sometimes harder than other people. There are probably some things that you do more easily than Karyel. We’re all different.”

  Iryella eased off the clavecin bench. “By your leave, Your Grace?”

  Charyn smiled. “You can go. If your aunt asks, tell her I’m practicing, and that you’ll practice more later. Then do it … so you’ll be telling the truth.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Once Iryella left, Charyn seated himself at the clavecin and began to play, first with the pieces he knew well, then working his way up to the harder works. While he was still rough on “Pavane in a Minor Key,” he had the feeling that the “Variations on a Khellan Melody” was almost to the point where he wouldn’t be embarrassed to play it in front of others.

  Before he knew it, it was time to get ready to go to Imagisle, since he’d decided to leave earlier than he usually did and to take the Sud Bridge. Despite what he’d implied to Bhayrn, he wasn’t taking the regial coach, but riding with guards, wearing an undercaptain’s uniform.

  When he was riding on the east and west sides of the river, he saw close to half a score of recently burned buildings, and realized that the damage could have been much worse—except for the fact that most structures in L’Excelsis were either of brick or stone, with slate or tile roofs. Still …
he had no doubts that there were a number of buildings burned by disgruntled workers that he hadn’t seen.

  When he and the guards rode up to the Maitre’s dwelling less than two quints past fifth glass, there was no one in sight, not that he expected anyone to be waiting, given how early he had arrived.

  As he let the chestnut walk slowly toward the stable, Aloryana hurried out, almost at a run, until she caught up with him. “You’re here earlier.”

  “I rode a different way, over the Sud Bridge. It didn’t take as long as I thought,” Charyn said as he dismounted. He led the chestnut into the Maitre’s stable, with Aloryana walking beside him.

  “Guess what?”

  Given the happiness in her voice, Charyn smiled. “I don’t know, but I wager it’s good.”

  “My shields are good enough that I made third.”

  “That is good! Didn’t Maitre Alastar say that it might take you until the end of the year?”

  “That’s what they thought, but Lystara’s been working a lot more with me, and that helped. She’s really nice. So’s Malyna, but we don’t see her as much.” Aloryana paused. “I’m just barely a third.”

  “How can you be barely a third?” asked Charyn as he stalled the chestnut.

  “My shields stopped everything, but I didn’t have enough strength to hold them after that. The tests don’t say anything about that, but Maitre Alyna said that I’d passed, but to try to avoid being shot at until I was stronger. I’m doing more exercises, now, like the older imagers. Lystara says that will help.”

  After closing the stall door, Charyn gestured toward the front of the stable. “I’ll wait here until it’s closer to time to leave for the anomen.”

  “I got a letter from Mother yesterday. She said that Palenya is teaching Karyel and Iryella in the late afternoon. I’m glad she is. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see her anymore.”

  “I still care for Palenya,” replied Charyn. “It’s just … you understand. But I did have a lesson with her a little while ago, and I did pay her.”

  “Good!”

  Charyn couldn’t help smiling. Then he saw Alastar walking toward them.

  “We didn’t expect you this early,” said the Maitre, who then turned to the guards. “Make yourselves comfortable. There will be refreshments after services.”

  “Thank you,” said Charyn. “I didn’t expect to be this early. I rode over the long way. I saw a good half score of burned warehouses and manufactorages. I’d hoped that some of the violence might die down.”

  Alastar shook his head. “Not yet. Two more warehouses were burned last night. Some of those who were involved were caught. Two civic patrollers were shot. One died.”

  “I’m going to ask Eshmael to give me a tour of all the destroyed buildings. That way, he can’t say that I don’t understand. He can also tell the other factors he’s made things clear to me.”

  “Do you think that will help?”

  “I’m hoping it will buy time.”

  “To what end?”

  “To get the factors and High Holders to understand that the lowest possible wages aren’t necessarily the most profitable.”

  “That may prove difficult.”

  “I don’t expect otherwise, but … if I step in too soon…”

  Alastar nodded slowly, then said, “You realize that Iskhar’s homilies have gotten much better since you’ve attended services here?”

  For a moment, Charyn wondered at the abrupt change of subject, before realizing that was the Maitre’s way of suggesting he had doubts about Charyn’s decision. As if you don’t.

  “Oh? You give me too much credit.”

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” Alastar motioned in the direction of the front porch, and the three began to walk. At the front walk, they were joined by Lystara and Alyna, and the three adults led the way down the lane toward the anomen.

  “I really must thank you for allowing Palenya to become the Collegium musician,” said Alyna.

  Charyn laughed softly. “I’m most happy it worked out, but, as I’m sure you must know, I had very little to do with that. My mother and Palenya arranged matters so that even a blind man could have seen where to go.”

  “That’s not so,” declared Aloryana. “Bhayrn didn’t see it, and neither did I.”

  “All too often,” said Alastar dryly, “it takes a perceptive man to see the obvious. Except in hindsight.”

  All of that suggested to Charyn that there was too much he wasn’t seeing, but he decided against admitting that publicly. “Aloryana told me that she’s a third.”

  “Barely a third,” insisted his sister.

  “Her shields are barely adequate for a third,” said Alyna, “but her concealments are excellent, and her control is outstanding for someone her age. As she gets stronger, the shields shouldn’t be a problem. She’s about where Malyna was at the same time.”

  As he entered the anomen, Charyn noticed that, while a few of the imagers glanced in his direction, no one seemed to dwell on his presence. He wasn’t sure if that happened to be bad or good, or if it mattered at all.

  The service proceeded as the services on Imagisle always did, but Charyn did find that some of what Iskhar said in his homily caught his attention a bit more than usual.

  “… in recent weeks, groups of angry believers have been storming certain anomens across Solidar. They’ve declared that certain choristers have been keeping too much of the offerings for themselves and that they’ve become Namers. This isn’t something new. Rholan was likely killed because he was outspoken. He wanted the faith of the Nameless to change into something better. Some people extol change, as if change is always better. Sometimes change is good, and sometimes it’s not. What we have to ask as imagers is how we can change for the better. When Maitre Alastar came here, the Collegium had not changed in decades, and it was dying because Solidar had changed, and the Collegium had not adapted to deal with those changes.

  “Making changes in the physical world doesn’t mean that the values of the Nameless or those of the Collegium necessarily need to change. It does mean that old values and old ways do need to be examined…”

  Isn’t that what you’re trying to do? And it doesn’t seem like either the factors or the High Holders want much examination of anything that might cost them. Charyn smiled sardonically, thinking how the factors had wanted changes that benefited factors, and, incidentally, reduced the power of High Holders, and now, those same factors were balking at changes that might help the crafters and workers. But what about the powers of the Rex?

  He was still mulling over those questions as he left the anomen.

  “You’re looking rather pensive,” observed Alyna.

  “I was thinking about change, and the fact that, whether what’s happening in Solidar is good or not, we really don’t have much choice about it, only about how we deal with it.”

  “That’s something that neither of your immediate predecessors truly accepted, except when faced with overwhelming force.”

  “I fear I’m no different, except that I might be seeing those overwhelming forces before they become quite so obvious.”

  “Forces?” asked Alastar.

  “The True Believers are another force as well. I could be mistaken, but we’ll have to see. Whoever wrote those theses seems to have thought them out.”

  “Theses?” asked Alastar.

  “You haven’t heard? I would have thought … you seem to know most things before I do…” Charyn went on to explain.

  The five had just about reached the Maitre’s house before he finished, and Alastar said, “That’s something we didn’t know, and I’d have to agree with you. I appreciate your telling us.”

  “I would have told you earlier, but … I thought you already knew, especially after Iskhar’s homily.”

  “We knew about the True Believers here in L’Excelsis, and that there were problems elsewhere, but not about the theses.” The Maitre shook his head. “Enough of that now.
We should enjoy the refreshments.”

  For the most part, Charyn did indeed enjoy the refreshments and lighter conversation, and, as usual, he didn’t want to leave, hoping that nothing untoward had occurred at the Chateau in his absence.

  That hope seemed to be dashed almost as soon as he dismounted in the rear courtyard, because Faelln immediately appeared.

  “Your Grace?”

  “I take it that there’s a problem?”

  “More like a concern, sir. You know, we’ve posted men to watch the Ring Road and the streets around the Chateau. One of them … I almost hesitate to mention it … but someone wearing guard greens walked out from the Chateau’s east garden just before you left and handed an envelope to a private courier who immediately appeared and rode off. The guards only saw it at the last moment, and whoever it was vanished before they got to the garden.”

  “Could they tell who the guard was?”

  “No, sir. All the duty guards were accounted for, but I asked everyone in the stables, and no one was missing. It might have been an off-duty guard, but…”

  “There’s no way to tell who it might have been,” concluded Charyn.

  “No, sir.”

  “It might not be anything, but…” Charyn sighed. “If you and Maertyl will keep an eye out for anything else that looks out of order.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Charyn headed up the grand staircase, he considered the incident. It could have just been someone sending a message to friends or family, except the part about the courier appearing and leaving quickly, as if it had been arranged in advance by someone who didn’t want to be identified … and there was one very likely suspect. Charyn shook his head.

  “Charyn?” Chelia asked as he neared the top of the staircase. “How is Aloryana?”

  “She just made imager third. She’s very pleased. Maitre Alyna said that her progress was excellent and that if she continued, she might well become a maitre herself in time.” That wasn’t quite what Alyna had said, but what she’d implied.

  “You must come and tell me. She hasn’t been writing quite as much in the past few weeks. I suppose that’s to be expected, but…”

  Charyn understood. “I’ll tell you everything she said.”