“You’re playing a dangerous game, Charyn.”
“So long as there is a Rex as the head of government, the game will always have dangerous times. This is one of those times.” Charyn laughed softly. “I imagine most Rexes have felt that way at one time or another. So have many Maitres, I’d guess.”
A faint smile crossed Alastar’s face. “I wouldn’t dispute that. We can contact some of the craftmasters. Whether they will meet is up to them. I will encourage them to do so, and I’ll let you know as soon as I can. The other request we’ll be happy to accommodate.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you think what you’re trying will work?”
“I do.” Charyn smiled. “But whether it will work well enough … we’ll just have to see.”
Alastar stood. “I won’t tariff you longer, and finding and talking to craftmasters is going to take some time.”
Once Alastar left the study, Charyn called for Moencriff.
“Yes, sir?”
“Could you have someone get me a cool pale ale?”
“Yes, sir.”
The ale arrived, and Charyn finished it and had some time to think over his next meeting before, exactly at third glass, Moencriff announced, “Factoria Kathila.”
The elegant silver-haired factoria inclined her head as she neared the desk, then said, “Your Grace,” and seated herself.
“Thank you for coming.”
“How could I not answer a summons from the Rex?”
“You could, but it wouldn’t be in either of our interests.”
“Exactly. What is it that you’d like me to do?”
“First … tell me what factors might be upset enough to try to kill me. Then tell me if any of them have the intelligence and resources to try it.”
“I can’t do that, Your Grace. There are likely close to a thousand factors in and around L’Excelsis.”
“And you know who every single one with significant resources happens to be. You also most likely know which ones are outspoken and which are dangerous.”
“You give me more credit than is due, Your Grace.”
“Less, I think. You’re a woman. You’ve built a factorage wealthy and powerful enough to land you on the Factors’ Council of L’Excelsis, and your name was raised as one of two to succeed Elthyrd.” Charyn offered a pleasant smile and waited.
“You definitely take more after your mother’s side of your family, at least in perception. Otherwise, you’re far more direct.”
“I’d prefer to be.”
“There’s such a thing as being too cautious.”
“So I’ve been told. Now … who has the resources to attack me without it being known? Besides you, that is.”
“Your Grace … that would be most foolhardy of me.”
“Besides which, if you wanted me dead, I’d likely already have had a memorial service.” Charyn just looked at her, again waiting.
“I can’t answer that question directly. I will say that those factors I know who have such resources have no desire to see you dead, and those who have the desire to see you removed from rule have neither the resources nor the ability to carry out anything that would accomplish such a deed. I will also say that there may be factors with resources greater than I know or abilities unknown to me.”
“I doubt there are many.”
“It only takes one, Your Grace. That is why I must answer as I have.”
“What about High Holders—those near L’Excelsis?”
“Half of them likely have resources enough. I don’t see those who are largely landowners caring enough about workers’ wages to risk what you could do to them if they were involved in such a plot. There are still at least a score of others who own manufactorages, but, I’m far less privy to knowledge about the finances of High Holders, except for the handful whose situations are so precarious that everyone knows.”
“I’m young, and may not know them.”
“You aren’t that young. But … there’s certainly little harm in naming those. Most precarious, until recently, was your friend the new High Holder Delcoeur. I’ve heard that he’s repaid much of his sire’s debt, possibly due to the counsel and aid of a friend.”
“Mostly counsel. He’s very sensible, as is his mother.”
Kathila nodded. “Then there are High Holders Aishford, and Paellyt, and young Plessan. Also, Caarnyl and possibly Fyanyl. There may be others, but those are the ones bruited about for some time.” She smiled pleasantly. “You knew most of them, didn’t you?”
“The first four. I wondered about Plessan. I hadn’t heard about the last two.” In fact, Charyn didn’t even recall coming across Caarnyl’s name at all.
“You’re obviously contemplating action of some sort.”
“As you told me at the dinner, acting too late would be the same as failing to act at all … or words to that effect.”
“What else are you going to ask of me?”
“What else should I know that you believe either I should know or that would be valuable for keeping order in L’Excelsis and throughout Solidar?”
“A Rex has no friends, only allies. A few allies endure. Most don’t. And the last people one suspects of betrayal are often the first you should suspect. Everyone in the end follows self-interest.”
“You’re very wise … and very cynical. That’s also why you’re successful.” Charyn could see that she had said what she was going to say … and he understood that she’d answered his questions in a way that she could deny having said anything, while giving him very strong indications. “I won’t ask more of you. Not for the present.” He stood, very carefully.
“Thank you, Your Grace. The next month should be very interesting.”
Charyn nodded. Her last words had not been an observation, but a suggestion.
Once Kathila left, Charyn again looked to the open window, then fingered the edge of the grip of the hidden pistol with his left hand. At the knock on the study door, he straightened.
“A letter for you, Your Grace,” Sturdyn announced.
“If you’d bring it in…”
The guard immediately walked in and placed the letter on the desk, carefully not meeting Charyn’s eyes before leaving.
As Charyn recognized the handwriting, he understood why Sturdyn had averted his gaze. All the Chateau staff probably knows. But he couldn’t help smiling as he awkwardly managed to slit open the envelope and extract the single sheet.
My dear Rex—
You have my deepest concerns and affection, as well as my hopes for a quick and complete recovery from the untoward attack on you and your guards. While I would like to be able to say that such an assault is unthinkable, in these most interesting times, it is clearly anything but that.
I so enjoyed the Autumn-Turn Ball and the comparatively short time I spent with you that news of your being wounded came as a shock and a surprise. I greatly appreciated the chance to meet your sister and your mother, and that you have them to support you in a way that I currently cannot is a comfort to me, although I would that I could, and I hope their presence is a great benefit to you as well.
Once matters have settled down, perhaps it will be possible for my father and me to pay a call on you, but we will not press, knowing that you have much on your mind with your duties as rex.
With my deepest affection,
Alyncya
Charyn couldn’t help smiling as he finished the letter. Guarded and carefully written as it was, there was no doubt that Alyncya was truly concerned … and cared more than she was about to put down in ink.
After rereading it, he eased it into the compartment in the bookcase behind him.
Barely a quint before fourth glass, Sanafryt returned and placed a single sheet on the desk before Charyn. “The proclamation of martial law, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Sanafryt.”
“After what happened on Solayi, do you think it wise to implement this proclamation?”
“The circumstan
ces will tell me whether it’s necessary. If it is, I’ll need it immediately. If not, no one need know I considered it.”
“Do you really think…?”
“I’ll let you know if it’s necessary. Thank you.”
Sanafryt frowned for a moment, then inclined his head and left the study.
Vaelln arrived just as the chimes struck fourth glass. He carried a leather folder under his arm.
Charyn gestured for him to take a seat. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’ve had a more difficult week than I have,” replied the Marshal, his tone warmly ironic.
“If all goes well, you’ll have a more difficult week to come,” returned Charyn.
“You’re rather cheerful about it.” Vaelln’s words weren’t quite dour. “I assume you’re saying that if we keep order that will be difficult, but it will be for the best.”
“I was thinking, more like hoping, that no one will be perfectly happy with what I’m doing and your men will be enforcing, but the results will lead to reluctant acceptance by all groups, rather than violent outrage.” He handed the proclamation of martial law to Vaelln. “What are your thoughts on this?”
The Marshal read through it, set it on the desk, and said, “The curfew is to make it easier for us and what else?”
“To remind people that the Rex has some power, and to make it harder for the worker troublemakers to create too many explosions and fires. Also, since I’m also going to promulgate a mandatory two-copper, nine-glass day for the manufactorages, and prohibit the hiring of young children in manufactorages, it should make the rebellious workers less popular.”
“Isn’t there a possibility you’re trying to do too much at once?”
“There’s a risk there, but the problem is, as I see it, that none of what needs to be done can be done one thing at a time because what one group needs, another hates. I’m trying to give something to each group all at once, at a time when the army is in position to damp down violence.”
“You may set them all off at once.”
“I think it’s more likely that I’ll set off small numbers of each group at once, small enough that the army and possibly the imagers can keep them under control.”
“You’ve talked to Maitre Alastar?”
“He was here earlier. If I need to make public appearances, he’ll provide protection for me. You may have to provide a squad or two to apprehend troublemakers.”
“You think you’ll need to do that immediately?”
“I’d be very surprised if I don’t have to do it, but even more surprised if the need will be immediate, since more than a few people suspect I’ll call in the army to keep order, but very few know what else I’m doing.”
“You’ve talked about the wage law at the Council meetings.”
“That’s so they won’t be too surprised,” said Charyn dryly. “I’ve said nothing about martial law or curfews, and the factors have no idea about the tariff-roll census.”
“That’s one thing you didn’t detail. Are you still planning on the same number of clerks?”
“This week, just two. Starting on Lundi the ninth, there will be four. The extra two clerks are needed to finish copying the tariff rolls to be used.”
“There will be companies on standby,” replied Vaelln. “We may need them.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d go over exactly what you’ve planned for this,” said Charyn.
Vaelln opened the leather folder, from which he extended several sheets. “These are the patrol plans and command structure for L’Excelsis. I already sent a copy to Sea Marshal Tynan in the event he needs to implement similar city controls in Solis.”
Charyn began to read.
Between the questions Charyn had and Vaelln’s explanations, it was close to fifth glass before the Marshal left the study. Immediately, he asked Sturdyn to summon Maertyl.
When the guard captain entered, he inclined his head. “Your Grace?”
“I’m certain you must have gathered that something is about to happen, Maertyl.”
“I have wondered, sir.”
“I’m going to ask you to keep everything I tell you to yourself and to Faelln until I issue a proclamation tomorrow. You are especially not to reveal it to anyone else in the Chateau until then.”
“Yes, sir.” The guard captain frowned.
“I’ll be proclaiming martial law over L’Excelsis tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon, the army will begin to patrol the areas where factorages are located. I will also be promulgating a change to the Codex Legis that will require all factorages to pay their workers a minimum daily wage of two coppers for a nine-glass day, and that will prohibit the hiring or use of children under fourteen in manufactorages unless they are the immediate relatives of the owner. In addition, beginning on Jeudi morning clerks will begin to visit all factorages in L’Excelsis to make sure they are recorded on the tariff rolls. Those are the matters I just finished discussing with Marshal Vaelln. You are the second person to know what I am doing. Minister Sanafryt knows that I might declare martial law and impose the wage law at some time, but he does not know if and when that will be.”
Maertyl just stood there, as if uncertain as to what he might say.
“I’m telling you because, first, you should know. Second, because what you have told me was helpful in my determination about how to proceed. Marshal Vaelln is holding some troops in reserve in case my actions prompt riots or other actions against the Chateau.”
“Your Grace … I do not think there will be riots. Factors or High Holders may mount attacks, but I cannot see workers storming the Chateau after you have mandated better wages for them.” A grim smile crossed Maertyl’s face. “I would suggest that you allow us to search any factor or High Holder who wishes to see you.”
“Anyone except Factor Estafen or High Holder Delcoeur … and perhaps one or two others.” Charyn paused. “It is most important that no one else in the Chateau knows this, except Faelln, until it happens. Some individuals may have the best intentions and still reveal what is going to happen.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I do understand.” Maertyl inclined his head. “Thank you for informing me and trusting the two of us.”
“You’ve earned that trust, and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your trustworthiness.”
“Is there anything else, sir?”
“Not at the moment.” Charyn offered a wry smile. “At least, I hope not.”
Maertyl hadn’t been gone for more than a few moments before Chelia stepped into the chamber, closing the door quietly but firmly, then walking to the desk and sitting down facing Charyn.
“You’ve had quite a procession of visitors today. It would suggest that you’re up to something.”
“I am. I’m trying to narrow down the number of those I suspect who might be behind the attempts to shoot me. I was also discussing with Marshal Vaelln what would be necessary if I bring in the army to stop the burnings and destruction.”
“If … or when?”
“It’s looking more like when, but I’d prefer you keep that to yourself. And don’t tell Bhayrn. I’m not sure he could refrain from telling his friends, no matter what he promises.”
“You’re sounding like your father.”
“That may be, but I trust your discretion. I trust Aloryana’s. I trust Maitre Alastar and Maitre Alyna. I have my doubts about Bhayrn’s ability to withstand his friends’ desires to know. Am I wrong?”
Chelia shook her head. “He knows you don’t trust him, though. That makes him even more unhappy with you.”
“Does he ever talk to you about his friends? Aloryana said that he’s mostly turned away from Amascarl.”
“He never says much about them. About the only thing he’s said is that they accept him for who he is, and they don’t criticize him for what he’s not.”
Charyn winced. “I never criticized. I just told him he needed to learn how to run a High Holding.”
“You should know that, for Bhayr
n, such words are a criticism.”
“Then he needs to grow up.” After a moment, Charyn smiled ruefully. “I suppose you could have said the same thing about me when I was his age.”
“Your father did. But he was pleased when you began to ask questions of the ministers and try to learn from them.”
“He never said anything.”
“Charyn. That wasn’t who he was. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that.”
“I knew. It would have been nice … the best I ever got were words to the effect that at least I’d learned something from going to the exchange.”
“From him, that was a compliment.”
“I know.”
“Are you coming down for dinner?”
“I thought I would. It might take me a bit.”
“Bhayrn will be at dinner. I’d appreciate it if you’d be very forbearing and quietly charming. You usually are, at dinner, but he seems a bit edgy.”
Charyn understood the quiet implication that he be forbearing at breakfast as well as dinner. “Thank you for letting me know.” He stood, carefully and slowly. “I suppose I should begin the slow descent.”
“I’ll need to look at your leg and hand later.”
Charyn laughed softly. “I’m certainly not going far.”
By taking his time, Charyn made his way to the family dining room with Chelia, where they were almost immediately joined by Karyel, Iryella, and Bhayrn.
After Iryella said the grace, and everyone was served, Bhayrn immediately poured the wine—red for himself and Karyel, white for the other three. Then he lifted his goblet. “To your quick healing.”
After everyone drank, Charyn turned to his brother. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How are you feeling, sir?” asked Karyel.
“My leg and hand are sore, and they likely will be for a time.”
“How long before you can ride again?” asked Bhayrn.
“I think it’s more of a question as to when I can ride safely again. I could ride now, but it wouldn’t be a very good idea, as you pointed out. I should have taken your advice.”
“You could have been shot in the coach, almost as easily,” replied Bhayrn.
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