As Charyn came down the grand staircase, in uniform, just before fifth glass, he saw Bhayrn entering the foyer from the front entrance. “Visiting friends?”
“Oh … no. Gherard just stopped by to ask me to dinner next Vendrei.”
“You will be at the Autumn-Turn Ball?”
“Mother wouldn’t have it any other way.” Bhayrn’s eyes narrowed as he took in Charyn. “You’re wearing that undercaptain’s uniform again. What on Terahnar for?”
“I’m less of a target this way.”
“In the coach?”
“I thought I’d ride over. The weather’s nice, and I don’t get to ride that much anymore.”
“You talk about the need for me to protect myself. What about you?”
“I take a different route to and from Imagisle every Solayi, both ways. People don’t know my face, and no one expects a young undercaptain to be anything else.”
“You keep doing that, and someone will find out,” predicted Bhayrn.
“They’re going to shoot at every officer in uniform on the chance it might be me? At any distance, there’s little difference between the army uniforms and those of Chateau guards.”
“They just might.”
“And they just might find a cannon and fire it at the coach,” returned Charyn dryly. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”
“I think I made it very clear how I feel about Imagisle.”
“Then I’ll see you later.”
“Most likely not until tomorrow. After services, Gherard’s driving me up to Laamyst’s place north of here.”
“How many does he have near L’Excelsis? There’s the High Holding at Charpen, the town mansion, the summer villa near Talyon, and the one north of here. Is there another one?”
Bhayrn grinned. “There’s one on the east side of the river near Caluse, but we’re going to the one north of here.”
“Then enjoy yourself.”
“I aim to.”
Bhayrn walked around Charyn and headed up the staircase.
Charyn shook his head and made his way to the rear courtyard.
Just before he mounted, Undercaptain Faelln walked across the rear courtyard. “Your Grace?”
“Yes, Undercaptain?”
“One of the lookouts noticed several men seemingly working on a wagon just off the Ring Road. They had been there for more than a glass.” Faelln smiled sardonically. “I sent some guards with a wheelwright to help them out. There was very little wrong with the wagon axle or wheels, and they got the wagon moving and away from the Chateau. You might consider not attending services.”
“I’ve already promised, and I really need to talk to Maitre Alastar.”
“Then I’d suggest you and your guards ride down the narrow walk beyond the south bailey door and circle to the north.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that suggestion.”
“Might I also suggest you skip services once in a while? Perhaps next week?”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Faelln. I know you worry about my safety, but I’m trying not to be totally confined to the Chateau.”
“I understand, sir.”
“I think what you’re not saying is that it’s better to be restricted than dead,” replied Charyn. “Ideally, I’d agree. But I can’t always follow the ideal. I will try to be more cautious, though.” With a nod to the undercaptain, Charyn checked the rifle in the saddle holder before mounting, not that he ever hoped to use it, especially since he was much better with the pistol inside his tunic.
Then, following Faelln’s suggestion, he let the lead guard take the narrower way to the west and down the haulers’ lane to the Ring Road, immediately crossing it and taking a side street west of the Ring Road to bring Charyn and the guards to the Boulevard D’Ouest, from there across the Nord Bridge and onto the East River Road down to Imagisle.
The imager in the watch box on the Imagisle side of the bridge nodded politely as Charyn rode past, heading to the Maitre’s house. Charyn wondered about the armored watch boxes, although he knew they must have been created at the time of the attacks on student imagers some six years before.
Aloryana waved to Charyn when he reached the drive to the Maitre’s house, then walked beside him after he dismounted and walked the gelding down to the stable, followed by the four guards.
“Why doesn’t Bhayrn ever come with you?”
“It’s not you.” Charyn paused, then went on, deciding that Aloryana should know the reason. “He doesn’t like Imagisle. He believes most imagers think like factors, and he has no love of factors.”
“He could still write.”
“I don’t believe Bhayrn’s ever written anyone.”
Aloryana shook her head, then asked, “How do factors think any differently from High Holders?”
“I don’t see much difference, but Bhayrn definitely does.”
“That’s because he spends too much time with Laamyst.”
“Have you ever met Laamyst?”
“Just once. He ignored me.” An annoyed expression crossed Aloryana’s face.
Charyn nodded. He’d only seen Laamyst a few times, but he had the feeling that Laamyst could be dismissive, especially of younger sisters. “What about Gherard?”
“Gherard?”
“The son and heir of High Holder Ghaermyn.”
“I don’t know him. Bhayrn never mentioned him. The one I saw most was Amascarl.”
“Bhayrn still sees him, I know.”
“He at least smiles.”
By the time Charyn had his mount taken care of, and he and Aloryana had returned to the front of the Maitre’s house, Alastar was standing on the porch. He turned to Aloryana. “Will you see if Lystara’s ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
As Aloryana turned toward the door, Alastar said to Charyn, “You’re early again.”
“I took another longer way to get here. The guards thought there might be some men watching the Chateau too closely.”
“You do need to be careful.” Alastar nodded. “We have some time before we have to set out. I understand you had the Factors’ Council for dinner on Samedi night. How did that turn out?”
Charyn didn’t ask how Alastar knew. “I had a ride through Solidar with Eshmael on Meredi, looking at all the damage to factorages and warehouses, then met with him before the dinner. Unless matters change dramatically, he’s not changing his mind. He wants to keep workers’ wages low, and he wants me to bring in the army to stop the violence. Some of the other factors would be happy to pay two coppers a day to stop the fires. Some actually are, but won’t admit it publicly.”
“Do you think that small an increase will stop the fires? Most are paying a silver for a six-day week.”
“At two coppers a day, they’d still get two more coppers a week. But no … I think I’d still have to bring in the army. It’s just that if they’re paying more…”
“Most people would see that as justified?”
Charyn shrugged. “That’s my hope. I don’t see the factors agreeing to more than two coppers a day, and I don’t see the violence ending any time soon.”
“I would point out one thing for you to consider. There are nearly a thousand manufactorages in or around L’Excelsis. So far as we can tell, possibly seventy have been destroyed or severely damaged, mostly mills dealing with cloth.”
“I’m afraid I don’t see the point. What you seem to be saying is that the factors, as a whole, aren’t that much affected. That suggests that they’ll never accede to a higher wage.”
“No. It doesn’t mean they won’t. It does mean that they don’t have to. Not now,” replied Alastar. “On the other hand, most families can’t live on less than a silver a week. In time, when it becomes obvious that the factors won’t budge and you haven’t done anything, you’ll likely have a much bigger problem.”
Charyn offered an exasperated sigh. “You’re saying that the factors won’t agree unless somehow forced, and that the unrest will con
tinue and eventually get worse.”
“Most likely by early winter.”
“So I have a little time, but not much.”
“If you change nothing.”
“Then there’s Elthyrd’s death,” offered Charyn. “Do you have any idea who might behind that?”
“Eshmael has more reasons, but I doubt he has the ability to keep it secret. Any number of other factors, and even some High Holders, might have a motive.”
“Why the High Holders?”
“Elthyrd’s reasoned approach strengthened the factors. Eshmael’s outbursts weaken them and make the factors seem less reasonable, and some High Holders might well believe that strengthens their position. His outbursts also make it harder for you, and you’re not exactly without enemies.”
Charyn hadn’t thought that Elthyrd might have been beaten just to weaken Charyn’s own position, but it made sense, unfortunately.
Alastar looked up as Alyna, Lystara, and Aloryana appeared. “We’d best start walking.”
Aloryana joined Charyn. “Palenya told me that you’re practicing more, and your playing is still getting better.”
“That’s likely because she’s still helping me.”
“Do you still like her?”
“I’ll always like her. I also respect her.”
“Are you going to ask Alyncya D’Shendael?”
“I’m interested, but … it’s as much up to her as me.”
“Good. You shouldn’t insist on anyone marrying you who really doesn’t want to. I said I wanted to meet her. When will that be?”
At the edge in Aloryana’s voice, Charyn turned and stopped. “Maitre Alastar, do you have any objection to Aloryana attending the Autumn-Turn Ball?”
“No. Would you prefer to have her enter with the regial family or with Alyna and me?”
“With Alyna and you. She is an imager, and that separation, in public, needs to be maintained.” Before anyone could interrupt, Charyn went on, “I know. My father broke that rule with Malyna, and so did I, but right now, I think it’s better if she’s seen on the imager side.” He looked to Aloryana. “What do you think?”
“I think I should accompany Maitre Alastar and Maitre Alyna, but I shouldn’t be announced.”
“Is that acceptable to the Collegium?” asked Charyn.
“It is,” replied Alastar.
“Some people will murmur and wonder what’s behind it,” offered Alyna with a smile that Charyn saw as mischievous. “That might be for the best.”
“Now that’s settled,” said Alastar genially, “we should proceed.”
“We should,” agreed Charyn. He smiled ruefully, realizing that Alastar and Aloryana had arranged the entire conversation. Or, more likely, Aloryana and Alyna.
Iskhar’s homily was anything but terribly uplifting, not with its message about the need to see others without inflicting a name on them. To Charyn, that seemed all too common. Everyone seemed to have a name for those they opposed.
On the way back from the anomen, Charyn broached the question of whether Alastar had any recommendations about High Holders’ sons in Khel who might make decent regional governors.
“Have you ever thought of naming a woman as a regional governor?”
“A woman? I don’t think that would set all that well.”
“That’s too bad. If not, you might consider one of the younger sons of High Holder Moeryn, then. I think the youngest is named Thealyt. Good family, and Moeryn was the High Councilor from Khel almost twenty years ago. Very solid and honest family. I’ve occasionally exchanged letters with Moeryn. I don’t know that Thealyt would accept, but I’m certain he’d do well at it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Charyn. “I have another question. One a factor might ask.”
“Oh?”
“Do you know any factors or High Holders who might offer decent prices for coal delivered to L’Excelsis, besides from a factor named Karl, that is?”
Alastar smiled. “Actually, I do. Alyna’s brother, High Holder Zaerlyn, had to develop a coal mine because of problems with Karl several years ago. Now … whether his prices would be any better, that I can’t tell you.” Alastar paused. “Might I ask why you’re interested?”
“I’m working on a project that might need a fair amount of coal.”
“You? You mentioned that you had an account at the exchange…”
“At this point, I can’t purchase through the exchange.” That wasn’t quite what Alastar had hinted at, but it was an answer that would suffice.
“There’s no account there in your name.”
“Not as Rex, no.”
Alastar smiled. “I won’t press, but if some High Holders or factors found out…”
“Some already know. It will come out, but not for a time. Besides, why shouldn’t the Rex have access to the exchange?”
“Some would say you already have too many advantages.”
“Some will always be critical,” replied Charyn wryly.
Before long, the five were walking the last few yards to the Maitre’s dwelling.
As Charyn paused at the steps, Aloryana eased close to her brother. “Thank you for understanding.”
“You set it up, didn’t you?”
“I only brought it up indirectly. You didn’t have to ask about my attending the ball. You could have put me off or asked me to come later.”
“Except it’s easier for both of you at the ball, because any conversation can be ended with less awkwardness, if need be. Or simply postponed to a later date, if matters go well.”
“I hoped you’d understand.”
Charyn was just glad he’d managed to do the right thing. You just hope it’s the right thing.
46
After going through his morning routine, and working even harder on the exercises with the guards, the first thing Charyn did on Lundi morning when he reached his study was to have Moencriff dispatch the package that contained both the letter and the book of poetry to Alyncya.
Next he sat down at the desk and wrote a short letter to Ostraaw giving him High Holder Zaerlyn’s name and saying that the High Holder had recently developed a coal mine and might be receptive to selling, although whether the price would be better was uncertain. After signing and sealing it, again in black with a blank seal, Charyn handed it to Wyllum.
“Remember the last letter to the ironworks? Send this one the same way by public courier. Ostraaw shouldn’t know it’s coming from me.”
“Didn’t you sign it?” asked Wyllum.
“I did, but with a family name familiar to the engineer. It’s mine, but it’s a device that’s used for various reasons. There’s nothing in the letter that isn’t strictly within the Codex Legis, but no one in the Chateau outside of me, you, and my mother knows that I’m using a family name. I’m trusting you to keep that entirely to yourself.”
“Yes, sir, I will.”
“Excellent. Here are the silvers you’ll need.”
Once Wyllum left, Charyn walked to the open window, through which blew a comparatively cool breeze, hopefully presaging the cooler days of autumn. He didn’t smell a trace of smoke, and that was good, because he didn’t need any more burning factorages … or Bhayrn bringing up the matter in a snide way. And, of course, on the present morning Bhayrn couldn’t have, since he wasn’t at breakfast, because he hadn’t returned from Laamyst’s until past midnight, according to the duty logbook that Charyn had glanced through.
I just hope he had a good evening and that he’ll be in a better mood.
From there Charyn’s thoughts turned to what Alastar had said the previous evening, especially the implication that there was something else Charyn could do to get the factors to raise workers’ wages. Or was it something that Charyn could do to stop the fires without bringing in the army?
He’d thought about a tariff levied just on the factors, and immediately dismissed that, given the troubles he’d had there. Even an increased trade tariff on incoming goods wou
ld be seen as a violation of his pledge.
But what else was there that he could actually control?
After pacing back and forth in front of the windows for almost a quint, he decided to deal with Aevidyr on something he could accomplish. He hadn’t walked to Aevidyr’s study immediately, knowing that the Minister of Administration was seldom particularly early in his arrival at the Chateau, but with seventh glass past, he made his way there.
Aevidyr looked startled when Charyn entered the study. “Your Grace? I didn’t know you were looking for me.”
“I didn’t leave word. So no one knew. What do you know about High Holder Moeryn?”
“Moeryn … Moeryn … Oh! He served one term as a High Councilor from Khel years ago. That was while I was still a regional minister in Tilbora. I can’t say I ever knew him.” Aevidyr frowned. “Is he still alive?”
“He is … or at least was a year or so ago, and I’ve not seen anything about his death. I’m considering offering the regional governorship to his youngest son Thealyt.”
“I don’t know anything about him. No one’s recommended him, unlike Nuaraan D’Nualt.”
“Someone has recommended him. Maitre Alastar did. I’ve had much better fortune with his suggestions. Draft a letter offering him the position, if you would.”
“Your Grace…”
“Yes? Were you going to tell me that High Holder Nualt would be most disappointed, or perhaps High Holder Nacryon?”
“Ah … yes, Your Grace.”
“I’m certain they’ll be able to contain their disappointment, and that they’ll be pleased with the appointment of the son of a former distinguished High Councilor.” Charyn paused. “Or would they rather that I appointed the son of a well-established factor?”
Aevidyr swallowed. “I’m certain that they will accept the son of a former High Councilor.”
Charyn smiled. “I look forward to seeing the letter.” Then he turned and left Aevidyr’s study, stopping by his mother’s study.
“How is your morning going?” asked Chelia.
“Not too badly, which means that it’s likely to get worse. I have invited an additional guest to the Autumn-Turn Ball, but she’s requested not to be announced.”
Endgames Page 41