Endgames

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

  “You’re kind, but there are metal plates in the coach body. Someone would have to get closer in order to fire through the windows.”

  “I have to say,” Bhayrn commented, “I still don’t know how you survived with so few wounds, especially when half your guards were killed.”

  Charyn took another swallow of the Tacqueville white before replying. “That’s likely because they shielded me enough that I could duck and turn the chestnut to take some of the shots.” He shook his head. “Maitre Alastar told me that they had to put him down. Two of the bullets went into his lungs. He didn’t seem that badly hurt on the bridge.”

  “Better the gelding than you,” said Bhayrn.

  “If I’d listened to you,” replied Charyn, “Rykael and Ghasaen and the gelding would all be alive, and I wouldn’t be limping and effectively one-handed.”

  “I can’t believe that those True Believers were so upset with you,” said Bhayrn. “You went out of your way to address their concerns, and they still tried to kill you.”

  “It does seem strange,” offered Charyn, taking his knife and using it to separate a chunk of fowl from the slice on his platter, a chunk that he then speared with the knife so that he could eat it one-handed.

  “That’s the problem with the rabble,” Bhayrn went on. “You give them what they want, and they’re still not grateful. Some of the factors aren’t that much better. That Eshmael … from what the newssheets say, he’s trying to tell you what to do, and he’s only been on the Council … what? Less than a month?”

  “Four weeks, I think.”

  “I still think you should have brought in the army the moment the rabble started burning and destroying.”

  “Maybe I was thinking that the factors and the workers deserved what they gave each other,” said Charyn dryly. “Of course, I couldn’t claim that publicly, but at least some of the factors seem to think starving their workers makes them work harder. And some of the workers think that burning their place of work will get them higher wages.”

  For several moments, Bhayrn was silent. “I thought you liked the factors.”

  “Factors are people. I like some of them. Elthyrd was a good man and a good factor. So are others. Some aren’t, and right now, it seems like too many factors are listening to the ones who aren’t thinking.”

  “That’s why you should have brought in the army. The greedy ones don’t think about anything except golds.”

  Rather than comment on Bhayrn’s observation, Charyn continued to eat, if not as carefully as he would have liked, by continuing to use his knife to cut morsels one-handed and then spear them.

  “How are your friends these days?” Chelia asked Bhayrn.

  “They’re fine. Laamyst and his family left this morning for Charpen.”

  “Charpen?” asked Iryella. “Where is that?”

  “It’s some thirty milles northwest of here,” replied Bhayrn. “In the middle of nowhere. But the land there is good. That’s what Laamyst says, anyway.”

  “I thought they’d left Solayi morning,” said Chelia.

  “Something came up, I suppose.” Bhayrn shrugged. “It just might have been that everyone stayed too late at the ball. Anyway, they left this morning.”

  “What about Gherard?” asked Charyn.

  “Oh … he and his family almost never leave L’Excelsis. By the way, I’ll likely have dinner with him tomorrow night.”

  “I haven’t seen Amascarl recently,” said Chelia. “Is he all right?”

  “I guess he’s fine. We’re not as close anymore. We don’t see things quite the same way.” Bhayrn shrugged again. “It happens.” He looked to Charyn. “Do you still see Ferrand as much?”

  “Not quite as much, but part of that is because he’s interested in someone, and between learning more about his holding and her, whoever she is, that’s taking more of his time, a great deal more.”

  “He hasn’t told you?”

  “Not yet. I have a good idea…”

  “Who is she?” burst out Iryella.

  “Since it’s only a guess on my part,” Charyn said gently, “it wouldn’t be right for me to say.”

  “Well … you spent more time with a certain heiress than with anyone else,” said Bhayrn with an expression that was half smile, half smirk.

  “That’s possible,” Charyn conceded genially.

  “Possible?” Bhayrn shook his head.

  Charyn just smiled. The rest of the dinner would be pleasant. It absolutely would be, not only because he’d promised his mother that, but for more than a few other reasons.

  53

  Once he was in his study on Meredi morning, Charyn quickly read through the few petitions and the draft responses Sanafryt had sent to him. Then he spent two glasses explaining to Sanafryt how he wanted them changed, also noting that he would have simply had Wyllum rewrite them, except for the fact that Wyllum was engaged in an urgent effort elsewhere.

  Then, slowly and with extreme care, slow word by word, he wrote a short reply to Alyncya, sealed it, and had Moencriff dispatch it.

  Then Moencriff brought in another letter. Charyn opened it, awkwardly, to discover that it was from Paersyt.

  Your Grace—

  I was shocked to learn of the attempt on your life. I’m not much with the pen, but I do want you to know I’ll do anything you need done if it will help.

  We did fix the vibration problem with the shaft, and now the Steamwraith is much smoother and even faster. As you instructed, I’m working on the plans for a much larger engine. I will keep you informed.

  My very best wishes for your rapid return to full health.

  Charyn smiled, an expression that faded slightly after a moment, since Paersyt’s letter of good wishes was the only one he received, except for the one from Alyncya … and, of course, there had been Ferrand’s immediate visit.

  Just before the first glass of the afternoon on Meredi, Charyn called in Maertyl.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “From the moment you leave this study, Guard Captain, not a single person is to leave the Chateau without you or Faelln hearing it from my lips and only from my lips. I have just signed the declaration of martial law and the new wage law, and until those are copied and sent, no one is to leave the Chateau. Nor is anyone to enter, except Marshal Vaelln or Maitre Alastar. Nor is anyone to talk to anyone who comes, except those two. If there are questions, you or Faelln are to come to me and no one else. You are not to tell anyone but Faelln why, just that those are my orders.”

  Maertyl nodded. “That includes members of the regial family?”

  “It includes everyone from the kitchen sculls to guards to ministers to the regial family.”

  “Very good, Your Grace.”

  From Maertyl’s tone, Charyn could tell that the guard captain agreed.

  Then, after waiting a good two quints, so that Maertyl would have time to inform all the guards, Charyn sent for Sanafryt again.

  Sanafryt entered the study almost gingerly. “You summoned me, Your Grace?”

  “I did. I’ve just signed and sealed the declaration of martial law and the new wage law.”

  Sanafryt swallowed. “Your Grace … ah … That is most unusual … the factors … the High Holders…”

  “Before long, Marshal Vaelln will be moving troopers into L’Excelsis. You will make copies of both proclamations to send to all members of the councils, in addition for another five to be sent to any craftmasters that can be found, as well as copies for Marshal Vaelln and Maitre Alastar. Those copies are to be made and sent this afternoon.”

  “Your Grace…”

  “This afternoon. You may request additional clerks from Minister Aevidyr, but only those located in the Chateau. You are not to leave the Chateau until those tasks are accomplished and you have reported to me personally that they are.”

  “This is most irregular, Your Grace…”

  “Burning manufactorages and two assassination attempts on me are both irregular, Minist
er Sanafryt. Everyone has wanted action. Now all of them will have that action, all at once.”

  Slightly less than a glass later, Bhayrn burst into the study, followed by Sturdyn with a drawn sabre.

  “Stop right there!” snapped Charyn, his left hand already around the grip of the still-holstered and concealed pistol. “That is, if you don’t want Sturdyn to cut you down.”

  Bhayrn stopped, then saw the drawn sabre. His face paled. “You really would, wouldn’t you? Your own brother.”

  “What the frig do you expect, Bhayrn? I’m in no shape to wrestle with you. I’ve been shot at twice and wounded once. Sturdyn doesn’t know what you have in mind when you charge in like a mad bull.”

  “I can’t believe you called in the army and didn’t say anything. You didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell Mother. How could you possibly do that?”

  “Then how did you find out?” asked Charyn.

  “I was going to go to Gherard’s, but Maertyl told me that you’d ordered the Chateau sealed off and that I couldn’t leave.”

  “I never mentioned the army to Maertyl,” Charyn lied.

  “No … your precious guard captain wouldn’t tell me. Neither Alucar nor Aevidyr could either. Sanafryt told me.”

  “You could have asked me,” said Charyn. “If you’d asked I would have been happy to tell you.”

  “How was I to know that? You never tell me anything.”

  “I’m telling you now. The only way to deal with the factors, the workers, and the High Holders was to do several things at once. The timing is important. There’s an old saying about one person being able to keep a secret, and two being able to keep it for a short time, and three being the same as shouting it from the rooftops. The only one who knew the exact timing was Marshal Vaelln. He had to, in order for the army to be ready.” Charyn didn’t like lying, but it was easier than telling Bhayrn that he couldn’t trust him not to reveal it to his friends.

  “You led me to believe you weren’t going to call in the army. Your own brother.”

  Charyn shook his head. “I never said that. I told you that the factors wanted more silvers, but refused to give up a few coppers, and that I wasn’t going to bring in the army under those conditions. When it became clear that neither the factors nor the workers would budge, I decided to give them each what they wanted, and put the army in place to keep the peace.”

  “Why did you give in to the workers? Why, for Terahnar’s sake?”

  “Because I don’t like to see children starving, for one thing, and I don’t like factors getting more golds by starving people.”

  “You’re going to destroy Solidar.”

  “Solidar was about to destroy itself if I didn’t do something. You said so yourself.”

  “You don’t understand, Charyn. You never have. You never will. You calculate and never see what’s right before you.” Bhayrn half-turned, then stopped. “How long am I to be confined in the Chateau?”

  “Until sometime after fifth glass, depending on events. I really wouldn’t suggest going anywhere after that, but that’s up to you.”

  “What am I supposed to tell Gherard?”

  “Just tell him the truth—that I sealed off the Chateau and didn’t tell you I was going to. I’m sure he’ll believe you.” Given what you’ve likely said about your older brother.

  “The only people you told were commoners … not even your own family. I still can’t believe it.” Bhayrn sneered, then turned and walked past Sturdyn.

  The guard looked to Charyn. “I’m sorry, sir. He walked up and politely asked if you were in. When I said you were, he charged past me.”

  “That’s understandable, Sturdyn. Lord Bhayrn can be very unpredictable. I didn’t realize he also might be violent. If you would pass that on to Moencriff so that both of you are aware of his … eccentricities.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  Once Sturdyn returned to his post outside the study door, Charyn took a deep breath, thinking over Sturdyn’s description of Bhayrn’s behavior. Then he shook his head.

  At two quints past fourth glass, Sanafryt entered the study. “All the proclamations are copied and sealed and ready to dispatch, Your Grace. Guard Captain Maertyl won’t let the couriers leave.”

  “Those were my orders.” Charyn raised his voice. “Sturdyn … if you’d have Maertyl come up here for just a moment…”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Within moments Maertyl was in the study. “Yes, Your Grace?”

  “Guard Captain, you’re to allow the dispatch riders to leave the Chateau with the proclamations, but no one else. A glass after the last dispatch rider leaves, then anyone else who desires to leave the Chateau may do so. That includes Lord Bhayrn.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you.” Charyn tried to put both concern and thanks into his tone of voice.

  Once Maertyl had left, Charyn turned to Sanafryt. “I do have a question for you. How did Lord Bhayrn find out about the declaration of martial law?”

  “He burst into my study and wanted to know why he couldn’t leave the Chateau, Your Grace. I told him that I didn’t know about that, but that you’d signed a declaration of martial law, and that was likely the reason. You didn’t say that I couldn’t tell anyone, and he is your brother.”

  “I didn’t, that’s true. I just wanted to know. Thank you.”

  As he sat alone in the study in the late afternoon, Charyn knew that all he could do at the moment was wait … and that it might be some time before he could—or should—do anything else.

  54

  Charyn woke early on Jeudi morning, worrying about what might have happened—or not happened—the night before. Although he certainly didn’t smell smoke, he was still concerned about the impact of his proclaiming martial law. He’d seen some of Vaelln’s troopers as they had ridden and marched past the Chateau and into the factoring areas of L’Excelsis southeast of the Chateau late on Meredi afternoon.

  Once he was fully awake, Charyn washed and dressed as quickly as he could and made his way down to the duty room.

  Lead Guard Reynalt immediately addressed him. “Is there anything you need, Your Grace?”

  “I just wondered if you’d heard anything—good or bad—about fires or destruction.”

  “No, sir. The local civic patrollers haven’t heard of anything. We haven’t heard any shots, but we likely wouldn’t. There aren’t any factorages near here. The closest ones are well over a mille away. A company of army troopers is here. Some are in the stables and some are stationed where it’s not obvious in the gardens and other places.”

  “Thank you.”

  From the duty room, Charyn made his way to the breakfast room, since there was no way he was going to be exercising for a while. He wouldn’t be seeing Bhayrn for breakfast, and possibly for quite some time, since Bhayrn had left the Chateau for Gherard’s father’s estate on the northeast side of L’Excelsis the previous evening—without saying a word to Charyn. Charyn only knew that much because Maertyl had refused to send guards with Bhayrn unless he knew where they were going.

  Charyn could have refused his brother protection, but that would have been unwise on several counts.

  Chelia arrived in the breakfast room—alone—just after Charyn began to sip his tea while he waited for cheesed eggs and ham strips, which he had often, simply because he liked them.

  “You’re walking a little better.”

  “A bit,” Charyn conceded. “We won’t have Bhayrn’s company this morning.”

  “I’ve never seen him that angry before.” Chelia absently picked up the mug of tea that Therosa had set before her, then took a small sip.

  “Nor have I, but I didn’t want to risk anyone knowing what I did until it was done.”

  “Doing all that at one time is a risk, especially the daily-wage law.” Chelia’s words were almost matter-of-fact.

  “Not as much as not doing them.” Charyn smiled sardonically. “Of course, I could be very wr
ong.”

  “What do you think will happen today?”

  “I’d be very surprised if much happens this morning. By this afternoon, or no later than tomorrow morning, I’ll have Eshmael writing or even appearing and demanding that I rescind the daily-wage law. The High Holders will say nothing, but at least some will agree that at least I did something. Then, by tomorrow, when Eshmael finds out that Alucar’s clerks are beginning to check the factorages against the tariff rolls—”

  “I don’t believe you mentioned that, dear.”

  Charyn waited to answer until after Therosa had set his platter before him, along with a basket of biscuits. “Alucar believes that two in ten manufactorages aren’t even on the rolls. Since we’re already reviewing the tariffs of the High Holders, I thought it only fair to do that for the factors as well. After all, the factors who are paying shouldn’t have to shoulder the costs of those who aren’t.”

  “Most of the High Holders will definitely approve of that.”

  Charyn caught the slight emphasis on “most.” “I do understand that there are a handful of High Holders who are most likely greatly undertariffed … but why should the others pay more on tariffs for a hectare of land than do they?”

  “You had best hope that there are not too many whose tariffs will rise dramatically.”

  “Will those of the Ryel High Holding?”

  “No. Doryana knew that they would be under scrutiny. All the holding’s assets are listed correctly. She and brother dear were very scrupulous in that regard.”

  If not in a number of other ways. Charyn didn’t have to say that. He stopped speaking when Therosa arrived with a platter for Chelia. After the server returned to the kitchen, he went on. “That’s one matter that I’ll have to be very careful about when I gift Lauckan to Bhayrn—to make sure all the assets are on the tariff rolls.” Charyn began to eat some of the cheesed eggs.

  “He won’t appreciate such honesty.” Chelia toyed with a biscuit before breaking it in half.

  “He should be grateful, but he won’t be. He’ll get a High Holding. I doubt that his friend Laamyst will, for all of Laastyn’s sweep of lands across Solidar. Gherard will, of course, but Ghaermyn’s younger sons likely won’t, no matter how many golds Ghaermyn has stacked up.”