Endgames

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

  Charyn did understand that.

  “There will be no memorial service. I don’t ever want to talk about it again. Ever.”

  Charyn wanted to say more, so much more, except … what was there to say? He’d tried. They’d all tried. Even Aloryana had tried … yet Bhayrn had refused to go see her or return her letters.

  “Just go.” Her voice softened a trace. “You have things to do. Do them.”

  Charyn did have more to say, but now was not the time. “Take care of yourself. We will talk later.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Charyn … you need to go.”

  Charyn nodded, then turned. Alastar was waiting outside, as was Sturdyn.

  “We need to find Maertyl.”

  “He’s in the main entry, sir,” declared Sturdyn.

  The three headed down the grand staircase. Charyn glanced toward the bottom, but there were no guards posted right at the base, although Maertyl stood several yards away, clearly waiting for them. He took a deep breath and looked to one side and then the other. When he reached the main floor he moved quickly away from the grand staircase and stopped just short of the guard captain. “Is everything under control?”

  “Yes, sir. The army companies are in position and they killed or captured all the True Believers. There weren’t that many.” Maertyl’s smile was cold as he added, “Minister Aevidyr is most displeased.”

  “He’s not to go anywhere. Are Laamyst and Gherard still in the plaques room?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. They were not cooperative. We had to … restrain them.”

  “They’re tied up?”

  “They are.”

  “Good. We need to see what they brought with them.”

  “We checked them for weapons. Except for belt knives, they weren’t carrying any.”

  “I’m looking for something else.” Charyn nodded in the direction of the plaques room.

  Sturdyn led the way, followed by Charyn and Alastar.

  Once inside the plaques room, Charyn surveyed it quickly. Laamyst and Gherard were bound hand and foot and tied to straight-backed plaques chairs. Two guards stood watching them. Interestingly enough, two of the plaques room windows were open. Charyn looked at them, wondering why, then abruptly nodded. Bhayrn had looked at the open window in the study.

  “We didn’t do anything, Your Grace,” insisted Laamyst.

  Gherard was silent, his eyes coldly surveying Charyn, Alastar, and Maertyl.

  “No … I’m sure you didn’t.” After a pause, Charyn added, “But that was just because you didn’t have the chance.” He turned to Dhuncan. “What did they have with them?”

  “Just what they wore, sir, and some cloaks. The cloaks are on the plaques table.”

  Charyn walked over to the table, noticing that there were three cloaks laid out side by side, seemingly identical. He frowned as he picked up the top one, which seemed unusually heavy, more like a winter cloak. Then he studied the lining. On one side the stitching of the lining looked loose. He turned to Sturdyn. “I can’t do this easily one-handed. Cut that inside stitching a bit.” He handed the cloak over, then pointed.

  Although the guard frowned, he took his belt knife and cut several stitches. Then, with a pull on the threads, that side of the lining of the cloak unraveled, revealing something very white within.

  Sturdyn’s mouth opened.

  Charyn nodded. “I think we’ll find white gowns and hoods inside all three cloaks, but we won’t open the other two until Marshal Vaelln arrives.”

  “How much of this did you know?” asked Alastar.

  Maertyl leaned forward.

  “Not enough. But I did know that someone wanted to pin my death on the True Believers. What I couldn’t figure out was how they planned that after I decided to stay put, especially since Bhayrn was the one insisting that I not leave the Chateau because the True Believers were determined to kill me—even though I’d taken steps to address their concerns. Then, when Chorister Faheel told me about the True Believers last Solayi at the Anomen D’Rex, and I found out that Bhayrn had torn up the note, claiming that he’d done it to protect me, I started thinking along a different line, asking why he didn’t want me near the True Believers. Then he was tense and trying not to show it earlier today when he asked me if he, Gherard, and Laamyst could use the plaques room this afternoon because Lady Chelia hadn’t given him permission but told him to ask me. Why did Bhayrn want his friends in the Chateau when he was always trying to leave the Chateau?”

  Charyn turned to Alastar. “I felt it wouldn’t be long before another attempt would be made. I’d originally thought it would likely be on Solayi, having something to do with Aloryana, because Bhayrn had talked about having Aloryana come here then. But he hasn’t written her or seen her in months, as you pointed out. That was what I’d thought we were going to talk about this afternoon, but when Bhayrn asked me about the plaques room, I got uneasy … and more uneasy … and I decided to confront him.”

  “So he thought you’d discovered the details of the plot when you had your guards bring him in?” asked Alastar.

  “I don’t see what else it could have been. I was just trying to get him off-balance to see what he’d reveal.” That wasn’t totally true, but close enough.

  “Did you know he was armed?”

  “I thought he might be, simply because he has access to his own pistols and rifles. There was also the possibility that he could have armed Laamyst and Gherard, but I honestly didn’t think about that until afterwards.”

  A guard hurried up—Laanart, Charyn realized after a moment—and said, “Marshal Vaelln’s just arrived.”

  “We’ll meet him in the welcoming parlor.” Charyn turned.

  Maertyl and Alastar followed, with Sturdyn bringing up the rear.

  The four reached the parlor only a few moments before Vaelln entered.

  “Your Grace, I’m happy to see you healthy, or at least more healthy.”

  “I’m happy about that as well,” replied Charyn dryly, his voice getting warmer as he went on. “I very much appreciate the rapid and effective efforts of your troopers.”

  “They had surprisingly little trouble.”

  “That’s because the attackers were meant to fail. They didn’t know that. They were likely ordered to attack and then withdraw. If there are any survivors, see if you can confirm that.”

  Vaelln looked at Charyn. “Why do you think they were supposed to fail? I’d prefer not to guess, Your Grace. What do you know that I don’t?”

  “They were a distraction and a cover for what was going to happen in the Chateau. Under some pretext, Bhayrn would have lured me down to the plaques room, either to play a few hands of whist, since they didn’t have a fourth … something. Then he would have shot me. The shots were the signal for the false True Believers.”

  “Inside the Chateau?”

  Charyn smiled. “Just before Bhayrn tried to shoot me, he looked to see if my study window was open. Two of the windows in the plaques room were open. Both sets of windows are on the back side of the Chateau. Then, after Bhayrn shot me, the three of them would have donned the white gowns and hoods and run through the lower part of the Chateau before quickly discarding the whites. Then the True Believers would have been blamed. Instead, when I shot Bhayrn first, I inadvertently signaled for the attack.”

  Vaelln shook his head. “Was anyone else in your study?”

  “I was,” said Alastar. “Rex Charyn asked me to witness the meeting while I was concealed. I was sitting beside the conference table when Bhayrn pulled out his pistol and tried to shoot the Rex.”

  Vaelln looked pointedly at Charyn’s half-bound and splinted right hand.

  “I’ve been practicing with both left and right hands for the past four months … well, until the last week or so.”

  “At least once a week,” confirmed Maertyl. “Most of the guards know that.”

  “After the earlier attempts, I thought that m
ight be a useful precaution.” Charyn took a deep breath. “I just … didn’t think … who the assassin might be.”

  “Where did the white gowns come from? And three of them?”

  “Oh … I forgot to mention that. They were hidden inside the cloaks that Laamyst and Gherard—Laamyst D’Laastyn and Gherard D’Ghaermyn—brought into the Chateau. It is a gray and cloudy day, although I imagine they would have brought them in any event.”

  “Who else might be involved in this?”

  “Minister Aevidyr,” replied Charyn, “as well as High Holders Laastyn and Ghaermyn. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were behind Elthyrd’s beating or that some of the rifles were bought recently from the rifleworks. That won’t be hard to determine, one way or another.”

  “Then the story in Tableta was true?” asked Alastar.

  Charyn nodded. “I need the ironworks to build Paersyt’s next steam engine. Now … I think it’s time to talk to Minister Aevidyr.”

  “I’ll have the guards bring him down here, if you’d like,” offered Maertyl.

  “Thank you.” Charyn turned to Vaelln. “I’d appreciate your taking custody of the survivors of the plot as well as using your men to bring in High Holder Laastyn and High Holder Ghaermyn. Even if L’Excelsis were not under martial law, I believe being part of a plot to kill the Rex would still qualify as a high crime.”

  “Might I ask why a High Holder would risk that?”

  “To cover up a past crime that would cost them their lands,” replied Charyn. “This all started when I asked Minister Alucar to make sure that both High Holders and factors were paying the necessary tariffs…” Charyn went on to give a quick summary of what Aevidyr had done.

  When Charyn had finished, Vaelln said, “Past failures to pay tariffs haven’t been punished that severely, have they?”

  “So far as we can tell, past failures didn’t go back for ten years. Even if I didn’t charge them with defrauding the Rex, and just assessed the normal penalties, the amount they owed would likely destroy them, and they knew I wouldn’t forgive the debt. Under the present conditions facing Solidar, how could I? Should everyone else have to pay more to save cheating High Holders?”

  “Why did they do it?”

  “You’d have to ask them. I’d guess that they were having troubles, and my father was very forgiving. Then they discovered that no one even noticed what they weren’t paying … and they got greedy.” Charyn shrugged.

  “Until you looked into it, and they got very worried.”

  “That’s my guess. Laamyst and Gherard started to get very friendly with Bhayrn just about the time that I asked Minister Alucar to start looking at all the tariff records of the High Holders, and Bhayrn turned more toward them and away from his previous friends. I suspect that Aevidyr told them there might be trouble and the three of them hatched his plot.”

  “Just for golds? From High Holders?”

  “Not exactly. Laastyn and Ghaermyn could have paid the tariffs, but it would have cost them enough in lands that they’d have lost their High Holdings.” Charyn didn’t have the exact numbers on that, but that was the only thing that made sense. “And Laastyn is most likely land-poor while Ghaermyn barely has enough lands to qualify as a High Holder.”

  Charyn also suspected that Laevoryn might have been aware of the plot, but doubted that there would be any evidence at all, even circumstantial, to connect him to the others, and there might even be other conspirators.

  “And Elthyrd?” asked Alastar.

  “He likely would have just been the first. Hisario would have been next, and he would have been replaced by another hothead. Then, as Rex, Bhayrn would have used the army to crush the crafters and workers. It wouldn’t have worked, but that was likely what was planned.”

  “Unhappily,” said Alastar, “I could see that happening.”

  “Your Grace,” said Maertyl from the parlor door. “Minister Aevidyr.”

  Two guards escorted Aevidyr into the parlor, then stepped back and positioned themselves on each side of the door.

  Aevidyr looked at Charyn. “Why have I been restrained?”

  “We’ll get to that,” replied Charyn. “What did your father promise you?”

  Aevidyr looked at Charyn scornfully. “My father was a factor in Villerive. He had nothing to promise.”

  “I meant your real father, not your foster father. My grandsire, if you will. He’s the one who appointed you as a regional minister of administration in Liantiago.” Charyn had the feeling that was a surprise to Alastar, and especially to Vaelln, but he kept his eyes on Aevidyr.

  “He promised nothing.”

  “But there was the implied promise, wasn’t there?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Your Grace.”

  “You were very young for the post of a regional minister, but that wasn’t enough for you, and you pressed my father for the ministerial position here, but he didn’t grant you any lands, and you hadn’t been able to gather enough through ‘favors’ you did for various High Holders in order for him to make you a High Holder.” Charyn left out the approval of the High Council and went on. “So you decided to approach it in your own way, didn’t you? You thought you deserved at least the same amount of lands that a younger child of a Rex received, and you used your position to do even more favors in return for lands and properties.”

  “This is all mere conjecture, Your Grace. You’ve invented this for your own designs, though I don’t see what purpose any of it will serve.”

  “What I didn’t invent, Aevidyr, is the fact that you became a regional minister in Antiago, with nothing to your name but five hundred hectares of Bovarian cropland. You’ve never been paid more than two hundred golds a year, and you now have properties that return you around fifteen hundred golds a year, all of them purchased for ten golds and other considerations of value. Many of them were sold, if you can call it that, to you by High Holders, who subsequently had records of other of their properties vanish from the tariff rolls, at a time when you were also acting as Finance Minister.”

  “That is again entirely conjecture. Certain High Holders’ records were erroneously entered or were not entered. That was certainly not their fault. Nor could it be mine, for I was not Minister of Finance.”

  “You were acting as Finance Minister…”

  “You’ll find no record of that. The responsibility was that of head clerk Slaasyrn. The late head clerk Slaasyrn.”

  “Ah, yes, poor Slaasyrn, who died suddenly right after I announced that the tariff records of all High Holders would be reviewed. Slaasyrn, who would have known, in reviewing those records, exactly who did what.”

  “That is merely conjecture on your part, a conjecture with absolutely no basis in fact.”

  “Regardless, it happened while you were acting Finance Minister.”

  “There’s nothing to prove that.”

  Charyn smiled, coldly. “Actually, there is. I have two letters from Rex Lorien to you. One tells you, as acting Finance Minister, to find the funds for repairs to the former regial palace in Solis. The other asks why you cannot, again, as acting Finance Minister, increase the penalties for late payment of tariffs, and there is even a sealed copy of your reply. There are also other letters, which you couldn’t destroy, and most of those properties removed from the tariff rolls dated to the time when you were acting Finance Minister. That means that all those transgressions, which amount to high crimes against the Rex, were your responsibility. I doubt that the High Justicer will absolve you of that responsibility, and since the amount by which your manipulations defrauded the Rex far exceeds one hundred golds…”

  “You little scheming bastard of a Rex … I’ve as much regial blood as you do…”

  “Take him away,” said Charyn tiredly. “Keep him safe … and well locked up, along with the others.”

  “Do you require anything more of me, Your Grace?” Vaelln looked decidedly shaken.

  “Not at the mome
nt, Marshal. I’m hopeful that we’ll be able to lift martial law shortly, but the next few days will determine that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Within a few moments, Alastar and Charyn were alone in the parlor. Charyn sank into one of the armchairs. He discovered that his legs were shaking.

  Alastar sat in the chair facing Charyn, looking directly at him. “Why did you decide to handle Bhayrn as you did? You could have let him shoot at you and then had him sentenced to death.”

  “Then there would have been countless claims that I fabricated the assassination attempt and sentenced him to death to keep the High Holders from reclaiming their rightful privileges. Either way his death was on my hands. There won’t be as much uproar about a wounded Rex defending himself as one using the law to disenfranchise his poor younger brother. And I couldn’t pardon him because of who he was. The High Holders and even some of the factors don’t want Solidar to change. It already has, and it will change more. Those who oppose that change would have continued to seek Bhayrn out. Because he also believed in the old way of doing things, so long as he was alive, I’d be facing threats to my life as Solidar slowly fell apart.”

  “Don’t you think that’s rather dire?”

  “With two revolts that already occurred centered around Uncle Ryentar? The younger brother of the Rex? And this one enabled by the bastard son of my grandsire because he felt disenfranchised?”

  “Is all that a rationalization for consolidating your power as Rex?”

  “When I’m trying to get the joint council to be a part of governing Solidar? When I’m trying to govern under the laws?”

  “What do you really hope for, Charyn?”

  “That I’ll die a long time from now, and peacefully, as the last Rex of Solidar.”

  “Do you think that’s realistic?”

  “Perhaps not, but it’s worth the effort. I don’t think most people would have thought that the first Rex Regis could have unified Solidar. He couldn’t have, without the imagers, and I won’t succeed without you, either.” Charyn looked hard at Alastar. “The imagers can remove me at any time if I become a tyrant. I’m well aware of that. The question is whether you’ll help me or just remove me.”