Endgames

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

  Charyn managed not to smile at the slight hint of condescension in Hisario’s voice. “Are there any other questions about Jariola for Marshal Vaelln?” He looked down the table.

  “Not about Jariola,” snapped Eshmael, “but about when you’re going to lift martial law and when the army is going to stop supporting the harassment of factors and even High Holders by the clerks of the Finance Minister.”

  “Marshal Vaelln and I have discussed the lifting of martial law within a short time. If the streets continue without trouble, I’d like to suggest that Solayi the twenty-second be the last night of army patrols.” Charyn looked to the Marshal.

  “That would seem reasonable if matters remain calm.”

  “Fine!” declared Eshmael, his voice loud and penetrating as he continued. “What about the harassment? When will that stop?”

  “You mean,” drawled High Holder Khunthan, “that you factors don’t like the idea of paying your fair share of tariffs now that the Rex has discovered that many of you aren’t paying any at all?”

  Charyn refrained from smiling as he silently thanked Khunthan.

  “And you High Holders are any better?” sneered Eshmael.

  “Would any of your factors like to pay the same price that High Holder Laastyn and High Holder Ghaermyn did?” asked Charyn. “I’m not even asking the untariffed factors to pay penalties, only to start paying the tariffs High Holders and other factors do. What you’re suggesting would let them continue not to pay tariffs. Besides being against the law, is that fair?”

  “I don’t like the way you went about it,” replied Eshmael sullenly.

  “There wasn’t any other way to do it. For the information of all councilors, as of last night, over the last ten days, the clerks of the Finance Ministry, accompanied by army troopers, have visited three hundred and sixty-seven factorages in and around L’Excelsis. Initial indications are that fifty-five were paying less in tariffs than they should be paying, and forty-one were paying no tariffs at all. Tell me, Factor Eshmael, what does that say about factors?”

  “What do you mean that there were indications? That could mean anything at all.”

  “Forty-one factorages were of the size that requires tariffs and were not on the tariff rolls. Fifty-five were of a size that normally pays more than the minimum, but were only paying the minimum. The troopers didn’t break down doors,” said Charyn. “All they did was to make sure that the clerks could check to see if a factorage was on the list, and if it wasn’t, to ask the factor either to present proof of paying tariffs, in case there were mistakes. They estimated the tariffs that might be due, and presented the estimates to the factor, requesting that, if the estimates were incorrect, to provide proof that they should be lower. The army troopers were there so that the clerks didn’t get hurt. We may reduce the number of troopers accompanying the clerks, that is, if you factors can assure us of the clerks’ safety.” Charyn looked first to Eshmael, then to Hisario.

  Eshmael was silent.

  Hisario cleared his throat. “I would suggest that you maintain the same number of troopers for the next week or so to allow the factors to spread the word … and to point out that, compared to what punishment the Rex levied on the High Holders, he is being eminently reasonable.”

  “At the suggestion of the Council,” added Charyn, “so that Solidar may adopt a fairer and more equitable tariff system over the next few years.”

  Several puzzled looks followed Charyn’s words, but before he had a chance to explain Chaeltar spoke out loudly.

  “You see! We’ve contended all along that the factors were underpaying.”

  “As the investigation into Laastyn and Ghaermyn indicated, there are also likely a number of High Holders underpaying, but at least they’re all paying something.”

  “How do you know that?” demanded Eshmael.

  “Most of the High Holds are known and have been known for years. We have years of tariff records. Factorages and manufactorages are cropping up every week.”

  “If you’re going to audit factorages,” said Hisario mildly …

  “After we deal with the gross negligence on the part of factorages, then we’ll be looking at everyone’s underpayments.” Charyn smiled. “Minister Alucar is setting up a permanent part of the Finance Ministry that will continue audits. They’ll also investigate complaints about either factors or High Holders not paying tariffs. Some of the better-qualified army units will become tariff police.”

  “That’s not fair…” protested Basalyt.

  “Both High Holders and factors have taken advantage of past regial sloppiness, but once the initial round of audits is complete, which will likely take two years, and even while that round of audits is taking place, any complaint about the audits can be brought before this Council. It must be brought personally by the High Holder or the factor, and I will abide by the Council’s majority decision about the amount of tariff due.” Charyn knew that was a slight risk, but the Council needed some voice, especially with what he eventually had in mind.

  Hisario frowned. “Will you put that in writing?”

  “I already have.” Charyn took the sheets from the folder and handed half to Fhaedyrk and half to Hisario. “If you’d hand this out so that everyone can read them.”

  The first to speak was Thalmyn. “Isn’t this just an excuse for higher tariffs?”

  “No,” replied Charyn. “Those already paying tariffs will see no increase in the rate, and it’s likely that there won’t be a need to increase tariffs for a much longer time. Also, I’ve already stipulated that the lands and properties reverted to the Rex by the decrees involving the traitors will not become part of the regial holdings, but will be held by the treasury and sold as soon as practicable without significant loss to their value. The golds received will go into the treasury reserves. That will allow us to have the ability to pay for things like repairing the river and harbor walls and roads and bridges damaged by floods.”

  “You didn’t take everything, did you?” asked Basalyt querulously.

  “Laastyn had already transferred significant property to his heir. I exempted the large river estate and some lands to provide for the former Lady Laastyn. I left one large manufactorage for the Ghaermyn family. Aevidyr had comparatively less property, and I left enough to provide for his wife and children.”

  “But you took the High Holders’ positions,” rejoined Basalyt.

  “They seduced my brother into getting himself killed, and they cost Solidar something like forty thousand golds. Had they succeeded in killing me, it’s likely that there would have been far greater losses to everyone.”

  “There likely would have been an attempt to restore all ancient privileges to High Holders,” said Alastar quietly, but firmly. “That would have created great unrest, most likely a civil war of some sort.”

  “They planned that?” asked Harll, the usually silent stone factor from Liantiago.

  “That would have been the aim,” said Calkoran. “Laastyn was quite vocal about putting factors back in their place, as he put it. He and Ghaermyn have been quite close lately.”

  “If you’d finish reading the sheets,” suggested Charyn once more.

  Chaeltar was the first to finish reading and respond. “This effectively makes Maitre Alastar a part of the Council.”

  “I said that I wouldn’t be a part of audit decisions. If the five factors vote one way, and the five High Holders vote the other way, who else would you have make the decision?”

  After looking up and down the table, Chaeltar finally said, “He’d likely back you.”

  “If you look at what’s happened over the last fifteen years, the Collegium has opposed the Rex more often than it’s supported him.”

  Surprisingly, both Hisario and Fhaedyrk nodded, and Khunthan said, “The Rex is correct about that. The Collegium has also likely acted against the Rex on a few occasions.”

  “I suppose that’s the best we can hope for,” said Chaeltar.

 
“The Rex has said this before,” replied Alastar, “but he has been trying to provide the High Holders and the factors a greater role in government. With this provision,” Alastar lifted the sheet, “he’s given you a tool to oppose any unfair or exorbitant tariffing of either a factor or a High Holder. If I’m not mistaken, that’s a solid step toward increasing your role in governing Solidar.”

  “He’s still Rex,” muttered Chaeltar.

  “Useful change comes slowly,” said Fhaedyrk. “Rapid change brings chaos and violence.”

  “There’s still this business about the ironworks,” said Eshmael sourly. “How do you expect us to take your buying an ironworks?”

  Basalyt and Chaeltar both frowned. Calkoran smiled faintly.

  “I bought the ironworks with funds raised from lands personally gifted to me before I became Rex. I also became a member of the commodity exchange at that time as Factor Suyrien D’Chaeryll.”

  A faint smile crossed Alastar’s face.

  “The reason for this was so that I could continue supporting the work of Engineer Paersyt, who has recently completed testing of a steam-powered boat propelled by a new steam engine and a unique water screw. The engine looks to be very promising as both a way to propel ships in addition to sail or even without sails and possibly even to power manufactorages without the need to locate them near water.”

  “The engine has actually been tested?” asked Hisario.

  “A number of times. I saw it travel from the west river piers upstream to the Sud Bridge and back to the piers. He has since improved it and is working on creating a version large enough to power a frigate.”

  For several moments, the councilors were silent.

  Then Hisario spoke. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but for years I’ve heard nothing but complaints about Rexes who never listened and never did anything. We now have one who clearly listens. He’s obviously trying to be fair to everyone, and he’s giving us a voice. He’s even paying out of his own pocket to produce something that will benefit all of us … yet he’s been the target of more assassination attempts in less time than any Rex in history. They’ve all been by people who didn’t want change. Whether we like it or not, we’ve got to deal with change, and we have a Rex who’s willing to work with us, if we’ll work with him. I’m not saying we’ll always agree on everything, but we have a chance to work things out without another uprising or another revolt. We ought to try that for once. That’s my view, anyway.”

  “You were really a member of the exchange?” asked Eshmael.

  Charyn fumbled for a moment, then extracted the exchange pin and held it up.

  Eshmael just shook his head.

  “You’ve got a Rex who’s a factor, Eshmael,” declared Chaeltar. “Isn’t that enough for now?”

  “Practically speaking,” said Alastar, “Charyn is both a High Holder and a factor, and with a sister who’s an imager, I can’t imagine a Rex better suited to work with everyone.”

  “On behalf of the High Council,” added Fhaedyrk, “I can’t imagine that we’ll ever see a Rex better qualified to get us through the changes ahead.”

  “I agree,” added Hisario, “especially if you’ll sign and seal that paper you just passed around.”

  “I can do that right now,” agreed Charyn, standing and walking back to his desk, where he sat down, and signed, awkwardly, the copy he had, then sealed it. He walked back to the conference table and laid the sealed declaration faceup on the polished wood, knowing that he’d taken the first irrevocable step toward reducing his own power.

  70

  Charyn stood at the sitting-room window and looked through the ice-rimmed pane out at the cold twilight sky of the last evening of a very long year. His eyes moved from the golden orb of Artiema well above L’Excelsis to the east to the small disc of Erion barely above the eastern horizon. The hunter still pursuing the goddess of life and love.

  He turned and waited, wearing the close-fitting jacket of regial green, trimmed in silver, with silver buckles, the pale green shirt and black cravat, and black trousers. Using a right hand with several fingers still stiffer than he would have liked, he adjusted the gold-edged deep green formal sash that signified he was the Rex Regis of Solidar—the same sash he’d worn to the Year-Turn Ball a year earlier, and, earlier in the day, to a special and very private ceremony for family and the closest of friends.

  He smiled as Alyncya stepped out from the dressing room, wearing a gown of regial green, but one trimmed in Shendael blue, edged with the slimmest of cream piping.

  “How do you feel about this Year-Turn Ball?” asked Charyn mischievously.

  “Less concerned than the last one. I’ve already told you that I was worried that you would ask me to dance and even more afraid that you wouldn’t.”

  “I know, but I like to hear it.”

  “You don’t have to take notes anymore.”

  “I won’t have to pose questions either, like …

  “Will then you choose love chaste or fierce desire,

  The ice of purity or heat of my desire?”

  “But I like it when you do.”

  “Now,” he answered with a smile.

  “Even then. You just had to look for the answer.”

  He took her hand. “We should go and meet Mother. You look lovely, and every High Holder will want to dance with you.”

  “Most of my dances are saved for a Factor Suyrien D’Chaeryll.”

  And that was fine with Charyn.

  EPILOGUE

  Yesterday, at the Anomen D’Rex and throughout Solidar, thousands mourned the death of the last Rex of Solidar, Charyn, Rex Regis. In doing so, they also celebrated the life of a remarkable man and ruler, who began, at an age when most rulers strive to amass power, to reduce the power of the Chateau D’Rex and to transfer power gradually to the Council, eliminating the position of Rex at his death, and transferring what powers remained to the head of the Council. He also paid to develop the Paersyt steam engines that have become the backbone of the Solidaran navy and merchant fleets.

  Young as he was then, some fifty-two years ago Rex Charyn began by forcing the factors to create a Solidaran Council of Factors and later by merging that Council with the High Council under his leadership, adding in craftmasters, the Maitre of the Collegium Imago, and the Marshal of the Army as councilors …

  Rex Charyn and his late wife, Alyncya, former High Holder D’Shendael in her own right, are survived by their son, Suyrien D’Alte, and by their daughter, Loryancya, Shendael D’Alte. Rex Charyn’s sister, Aloryana, who served as Senior Imager of the Collegium Imago, preceded him in death by only a month.

  Tableta

  16 Avryl 458 A.L.

  Read on for a preview of

  L. E. Modesitt, Jr.’s

  The Mongrel Mage

  THE SAGA OF RECLUCE

  Copyright © 2017 by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.

  1

  As Beltur walked along the stone walk on the south side of the causeway extending from the gates to the city, he glanced down at young Scanlon, walking beside him, half wishing he hadn’t needed to bring the boy with him, but there was no help for that, not if he wanted to keep the burnet he was seeking from spoiling too soon. Satisfied that the ten-year-old was having no trouble keeping pace, Beltur studied the low-lying fields that stretched almost a kay eastward from the main gates of Fenard before reaching the outer walls. Supposedly, the water gates in the outer walls and levees could be opened to allow the river, such as it was, to flood the fields, making them impassable to an armed force.

  The only problem, reflected Beltur, was that much of the time, the Anard River was little more than a stream, unlike the River Gallos, into which it flowed all too many kays to the northeast. He’d never quite understood how a cubit or two of water over the paved causeway and the fields would be much of a deterrent to a determined army, but then no one had asked him, and it was unlikely anyone who mattered would, or that they’d listen to a third-rate mage.

&
nbsp; In the meantime, he needed to see if he could find enough burnet—just because Salcer hadn’t gathered enough before he’d left, and there was no one else to gather it. Not that the great white mage Kaerylt could be bothered, nor even Sydon. Beltur swallowed his resentment, if he dared to do otherwise, especially given that Kaerylt was not only a powerful mage, but also his uncle and the only one standing between Beltur and his possible conscription as a battle mage for the Prefect’s army. The very fact that the Prefect needed so much burnet meant trouble, since his principal use for it was as the main ingredient in a balm used to stop blood loss, and stockpiling the ingredients for that balm was a good indication that someone anticipated significant losses of blood.

  As for Kaerylt getting the burnet himself, well, if Beltur were to be fair, he had to admit that it wouldn’t have been the best idea to let his uncle or even Sydon anywhere near herbs, given that they both carried so much chaos that their touch would wilt the herbs largely to uselessness. But then, while yours has much less chaos, you still carry enough to spoil the herbs. It would just take longer, Beltur knew. Which was why Scanlon was accompanying him to the old herbalist’s gardens.

  Beltur took a deep breath and kept walking, thinking of the old rhyme.

  Blood from the blade, screams in the night,

  Bind him with burnet, in dark or in light,

  So blood doesn’t flow

  And order won’t go.

  Although it was early morning, with the sun barely above the low rolling hills farther to the east, Beltur had not only to squint against the light, but to blot his forehead. The summer day was going to be hot, as were most of the days leading to harvest, and the stillness of the air made it seem even warmer than it was. He had no doubt that he’d be soaked through with sweat by the time he and Scanlon returned, since Arylla’s cottage and gardens were more than a kay from the nearest gate in the outer walls.