Endgames

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

  “Perhaps you should prepare a notice of immediate reassessment for those two properties … and since we don’t know the exact size of the Talyon estate, estimate it at, say, five thousand hectares. He can challenge that, can’t he?”

  “With a deed of sale, certainly. That would show us the land size and the seller.”

  “Prepare it, but don’t send it … Oh … and add in another ten thousand hectares in Tilbor.”

  “I can’t do that. We don’t even know where it is.”

  “Then draft a request that he forward the information on the property, which you understand to be well in excess of two thousand hectares, so that it may be properly assessed for tariff purposes. Once you have the drafts, I’d like to see them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After Alucar left the study, Charyn sent for Sanafryt.

  Sanafryt arrived promptly. “Thank you, Your Grace, for addressing those petitions and signing and sealing them.”

  “I signed. Wyllum sealed. Signing is difficult enough at the moment. I have another question of law…”

  “Yes, Your Grace?”

  “Is there any criminal penalty for failure by a property owner to record property requiring payment of tariffs?”

  Sanafryt looked scandalized. “Who would dare to do that?”

  “About one in ten factors, for one thing, and several High Holders.”

  “But that’s the responsibility of the Finance Minister. How could that happen?”

  “He can’t collect tariffs if the property isn’t recorded. And there are several ways I know of that it can happen. If a small family factorage grows and doesn’t report it … or if someone gathers together small plots of land…” Charyn offered a sardonic smile. “I’d be surprised if you couldn’t think of some.”

  “It must have happened…” Sanafryt’s forehead creased into a frown. Then he nodded. “You’re right, Your Grace. There is a penalty for knowingly defrauding the Rex. Knowledgeably defrauding the Rex in amounts in excess of one hundred golds is considered a high crime, one that can be punishable by death, if the amount is grievous enough.” Sanafryt barked a laugh. “That is why anyone who is discovered to underpay tariffs immediately repays the deficit while proclaiming loudly that it was unintentional and some sort of mistake. And since, in such cases, it is difficult to prove that the lack was intentional or permanent defrauding, the most that has ever happened, so far as I am aware, is a repayment of back tariffs with a penalty of at least one part in ten and where the deficit has been egregious, a doubling of the tariff for the current and previous year. I’m not aware of anyone egregiously underpaying tariffs for more than two years, although Minister Alucar might know of such an instance.”

  “Would not paying a tariff for a number of years be considered egregious?”

  “That would depend on the case. If a High Holder failed to pay tariffs on a few hundred hectares out of ten thousand, and it was an out-of-the-way parcel with no records … I don’t think any justicer would consider that egregious even if the tariffs hadn’t been paid in a decade. They would have to pay the back tariffs and the one-in-ten penalty. On a substantial parcel … that would likely be another matter.” Sanafryt frowned again. “Might I ask why you’re interested?”

  “Because we’ve discovered quite a number of factors that should have paid tariffs for some time, and possibly even some High Holders.”

  “If they can prove lack of knowledge, you can still insist on the back tariffs, and penalties, which will likely ruin most factors, but it would be difficult to prove egregious intent. For a High Holder with far-flung holdings, intent might be difficult to prove as well.”

  Charyn nodded. He wasn’t exactly surprised. “Thank you. Minister Alucar thought that the law ran along those lines, but felt you would know the particulars.” That wasn’t quite true, but Charyn didn’t think it conflicted with what Alucar had said. “If you have further thoughts on that, please let me know.”

  When Sanafryt left, Charyn returned to studying and organizing the papers he’d taken from the archives, and he was still pondering how best to use them when a courier delivered a missive from Factor Eshmael.

  Even before he opened it, Charyn had a general idea of the contents, but he read it word for word anyway.

  Rex Charyn—

  As a member of the Factors’ Council of Solidar I would like to express my concern about your acts in: (1) promulgating a law with an effective date less than a week after the date of promulgation and (2) compounding the difficulty by sending a copy of a legal proclamation to the newssheets. These acts have made it a practical impossibility for factors any distance from L’Excelsis to comply in a timely fashion …

  There was more, but all of that was either rhetoric or an elaboration on the difficulties, much of it almost fanciful, or so it seemed to Charyn.

  As soon as Wyllum returned, Charyn dictated a reply to Eshmael, then had the scrivener revise it twice more before he was satisfied. Then he read over his reply again.

  Factor Eshmael—

  As the text of the daily-wage law states, the effective date is either the ninth of Feuillyt in the year 405 A.L., or the first Lundi of the week after the law is published by the Rex or by appropriate local authority acting for the Rex, but on no account later than the twenty-third of Feuillyt. That means, in simple terms, that the ninth of Feuillyt applies to factorages and manufactorages in and around L’Excelsis, and that for most of the rest of Solidar, the effective date will either be the sixteenth or the twenty-third. It would appear that your decision not to circulate the provisions to the factors of L’Excelsis merely added to the difficulties of factors in L’Excelsis.

  The reason for the effective date was to assist in quelling the unrest of workers who felt that the Factors’ Council had failed to recognize their inability to sustain life on a lower daily wage. This was part of an overall plan to provide support for both factors and workers, since the Factors’ Council has proved unable to deal with that unrest through the use of its own resources and the Rex judged that to apply the force of the army without some corresponding benefit to the workers would further exacerbate the violence. Throughout this difficult period, I repeatedly requested that, if the joint council did not like my plan, the councilors should propose another. In over a month, there were no constructive proposals, only objections to the regial proposal. Thus, as the violence continued to escalate, I was required to act.

  As the head of government in Solidar, my responsibility is not just to the factors, nor to just the High Holders, nor to just the crafters, nor to just the working man, but to work out something that is practical for all. This means it will be ideal for no group, but is an attempt to address the welfare of all.

  I trust you understand this, and I look forward to further discussing the matter at the next Council meeting. As always, I remain open to practical and constructive proposals.

  Then Charyn signed the letter and had Wyllum seal it. He also had Wyllum make three copies and send one to Hisario and one to Fhaedyrk, with the remaining copy for Charyn himself.

  Eshmael wouldn’t like it, but if he persisted in an intemperate way, perhaps his correspondence might find its way to Tableta. The newssheet might even publish it.

  Except that would really infuriate all the factors, and that’s the last thing you need to do at the moment, especially since some of them will be infuriated by your buying the ironworks secretly.

  Charyn smiled. At least, sending Eshmael’s letter to Tableta was an amusing thought, even if he wasn’t about to do it. Not yet, anyway.

  Chorister Faheel arrived just after the first glass of the afternoon, while Wyllum was helping Chelia.

  “Your Grace, I thought you might not have wanted to meet with me. Thank you for seeing me.”

  Charyn was momentarily taken aback. “I summoned you.”

  “Your Grace, I sent a message to you on Solayi evening.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, sir. It was
because of the True Believers. They gathered around the anomen that evening. They didn’t try to enter the anomen, though, and they didn’t start chanting until after services were over.”

  “What were they chanting?”

  “‘Show us the Rex,’ time after time. Then one of them came up to the anomen door and said that they needed to speak to the Rex. I told them that you weren’t in the anomen and that the last two times you had been near True Believers you’d been shot at one time and wounded another. Whoever it was said that they didn’t do it, and they needed to speak to you.”

  “Why didn’t they come to the Chateau and ask to meet me?”

  “They’re afraid that they’ll be imprisoned or executed for something they didn’t do. Then the army came, and they all ran.”

  “How did you send the message?”

  “I walked here and came up to the front entry and handed the message to the guard. I told him it was a message from your chorister at the Anomen D’Rex.”

  “When was that?”

  “It was well after seventh glass on Solayi evening. I didn’t want to wait, but it took me a little while to make sure the anomen was closed up, and then I had to go to my quarters and write it up. I didn’t expect to get an immediate answer, not at that late a glass, but I didn’t want to put it off.”

  “I appreciate that.” Charyn fingered the hilt of the miniature letter opener that Howal had imaged for him. “I’ll have to see what happened to that, but I’m glad you’re here. You’ve answered some of my questions. I have a few more. Does High Holder Ghaermyn attend services at the Anomen D’Rex?”

  “I wouldn’t know, Your Grace. His name isn’t in the anomen records.”

  “What about Gherard D’Ghaermyn?”

  “That name doesn’t sound familiar, sir, but I’d have to check.”

  “Laastyn D’Alte or Laamyst D’Laastyn?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What about Factor Eshmael or Factor Noerbyn?”

  “I believe Factor Noerbyn is a congregant, Your Grace.”

  Charyn frowned. Who else? Then he recalled what Alucar had said. “Isn’t Minister Aevidyr a congregant?”

  “He is, sir. He’s the only person in the Chateau I knew before you summoned me the first time.”

  “How did you come to know him?”

  “Chorister Saerlet introduced me to him when I first came here two years ago. He and the minister were friends.”

  Charyn barely managed to nod. “I suppose that’s not surprising. Aevidyr has been here quite some time. Have you ever talked to him?”

  “Only a few words in passing, Your Grace. He’s very polite, but very reserved, at least with me. From what I saw, he was much less so with Chorister Saerlet, but then they were much closer in age.”

  “Is there anything else I should know about the True Believers?”

  “No, sir … well, there is one thing. The group that was there this last Solayi was very well-behaved. Their chants were even musical and they sang a hymn about Rholan. I didn’t get all the words. But it was something like ‘Rholan’s words of inspiration, ringing from the halls of time, are for us the proclamation, with a meaning all sublime.’ I think that was it. They really did not seem violent.”

  “They were before.”

  “I know, sir, but this group wasn’t.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “Nothing that I can recall, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you for coming, and I apologize for whatever delayed your message.”

  “You’ve been through a great deal, Your Grace. I imagine those around you are … rather protective.”

  “That may well be.” Charyn did stand to dismiss the young chorister.

  After the study door closed behind Faheel, Charyn finally shook his head. Aevidyr and Saerlet had been close, yet neither Saerlet nor Aevidyr had ever mentioned that, although Saerlet had said he had family in Antiago—where Aevidyr had been the regional minister of administration. And Saerlet had kept pressing for Charyn to attend services … and then, after the attack at the anomen, Saerlet had fled … most likely for his life.

  Would there be a white gown and hood in Aevidyr’s house? Hardly, he’s too cunning for anything that obvious.

  But perhaps he could track down what happened to Faheel’s message … or find out if there had even been a message, although he was inclined to believe that there had been one.

  “Moencriff, could you send word that I need a moment with either Guard Captain Maertyl or Undercaptain Faelln?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  While Charyn was waiting, he thought about something else Faheel had said, about the reserved deportment of that group of True Believers. It was almost as if there were two separate groups, or perhaps a handful of True Believers that were more than just True Believers … with a very different agenda.

  Less than a quint later, Faelln appeared. “Yes, Your Grace?”

  “Chorister Faheel was just here. He told me, and I’m inclined to believe it, that he hand-carried a letter message here to the Chateau on Solayi evening sometime after seventh glass, possibly closer to eighth glass. For some reason, if there was a message, I never received it. I know your guards are very conscientious, but something might have happened. Or perhaps there was no message. Either way, I need to know.”

  Faelln nodded. “Given that it was Chorister Faheel, we both need to know.”

  “Thank you.”

  Faelln returned in less than half a quint.

  “What did you find out?”

  “The guard did take a message from a young man, with blond hair and wearing a chorister’s vestments. He had just logged it in when Lord Bhayrn appeared and insisted on taking it up to you. The duty guard was thoughtful enough to log that as well, and he told Maertyl.”

  Under those circumstances, Charyn wasn’t about to question the guard. “Then Bhayrn must have misplaced it, or forgotten to give it to me.” Charyn shook his head. “He can be very forgetful. Could you and Maertyl make sure that messages are delivered directly either to the recipient, or to me—that is, if there’s a question—and to no one else?”

  “We’ll explain it in just that way, sir, if you don’t mind.”

  “You might also tell them that they can say that those are my orders, and that they’re not allowed to make exceptions, and that if anyone has any questions, they can come to me.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “No … thank you. I realize it might be uncomfortable at times, but it needs to be this way, at least until a number of matters are resolved.” Charyn paused. “That may take several weeks.” Charyn had the feeling that, one way or another, matters would come to a head much sooner. He just wished he knew more clearly how to bring them to the end he desired … and in the way he desired. Direct action would stop matters, but the costs would be high, possibly too high, especially since he’d been forced to take direct action to deal with the impasse between the former crafters and the factors.

  He also needed to hear what Bhayrn had to say.

  When Wyllum returned, Charyn dictated a letter to Alastar, asking if he would be free to meet with Charyn early on Meredi afternoon to discuss matters of mutual benefit to Solidar and the Collegium, since a certain lead time would be necessary to implement them.

  After that Charyn went back to work, organizing the papers he’d taken from the archives. What he had might work … if he couldn’t find another way.

  At half past fifth glass, he made his way to the family parlor, where he found Bhayrn. “You’re not off anywhere tonight?”

  “If I do go, it will be later. I’m not sure yet.”

  “Chorister Faheel came to see me today…”

  “Faheel? Oh, him.”

  “He sent me a letter. I had Faelln check on it. Apparently, you were going to deliver it to me. Do you still have it?”

  Bhayrn shook his head. “I tore it up. When I saw it was from that chorister and that it dealt with True Believers wanting to meet with you
, what else could I do? How could they possibly believe that you’d want to meet with them after what happened? Twice! Not once, but twice. I couldn’t believe the chorister had the nerve to put that in writing.”

  “It would have been nice to know that it happened.”

  “Charyn,” said Bhayrn almost gently, “you too often believe the best in people, even when they’ve shown twice that they can’t be trusted. If you let them, these True Believers will be the death of you. You can’t give them a chance to get close to you. I was just trying to protect you.”

  Charyn paused for a moment before he spoke, so that his words would be right. “Bhayrn, I understand what you’re trying to do, but if I don’t know what’s happening, all the caring in Terahnar won’t be enough.” And every word of that sentence was true.

  “I was just trying to do the right thing.”

  “I understand. Believe me, I do. If there is a next time, and you’re that concerned, you can tell me your thoughts about why I should or shouldn’t do something.”

  “Well … for one thing, I don’t think you should leave the Chateau for at least another week.”

  “I appreciate that. I certainly have no plans to do so.” Not yet, anyway.

  “No plans for what?” asked Chelia as she entered the family parlor.

  “Taking outings away from the Chateau,” replied Charyn. “Not until I’m much better and with great care.”

  “That sounds very sensible,” said Chelia, “but no more talk of unpleasant things at dinner, if you don’t mind.”

  “Excellent idea,” said Charyn, since that was more than fine with him, and he needed time to think over what he’d learned over the day and consider if there might be a better way to accomplish the necessary.

  60

  Although neither his hand nor his leg pained him that much, at least so long as Charyn didn’t bump into something with either, he didn’t sleep all that well and woke up thinking about his recent conversations with Bhayrn. His brother’s explanation for tearing up Faheel’s letter verged on the absurd. Yet Bhayrn was capable of the absurd, as Charyn well knew, but he was also self-centered and certainly not stupid. And he had to have known that Charyn would have discovered that the letter was missing. And why was Bhayrn so insistent that Charyn not leave the Chateau for a while? If he wanted Charyn dead, that was almost contrary to such an aim, unless …