Lady-Protector

by Jr. L. E. Modesitt

  “That will do. Send the other squad, or as many as you need, out there. Once we get the wagon back to the palace, and the chests stored safely, I’ll join them. Right now, I need to go through the buildings here. It shouldn’t take very long.

  “We’ll finish securing matters. Where do you want the prisoners held?”

  “At the Southern Guard headquarters, for the moment.”

  “We’re not…”

  “Have Subcaptain Salyna’s auxiliaries help with food and the like. If you send the prisoners to the gaol, anyone who knows anything will either die or vanish.”

  Maeltor nodded.

  As Mykella had suspected, a quick search of the premises, aided by her Talent, revealed nothing of easily transported wealth. The warehouses themselves were largely empty, confirming that Porofyr had been planning to depart for some time.

  Then Mykella, Maeltor, and the remaining troopers accompanied the wagon back to the palace, where the chests with their golds were carried into the Treasury strong room and set to one side for actual counting later. Mykella did have one lock forced, and that chest looked to have several thousand golds.

  Missing golds, but not the ones I’d started out to find, she thought.

  She’d sent a messenger boy to find Duchael, but he returned to report that the assistant minister had left the palace much earlier in the day. Mykella had no doubt that Duchael had fled Tempre. Finding him was a luxury that could wait, indefinitely if necessary.

  The sun was low in the sky, well past the fourth glass of the afternoon, when Mykella rode from the palace again and out the Eastern Avenue to Porofyr’s villa, a large structure set on an artificial hill and located but half a vingt from that of Khanasyl, she noted. The outside gates, set back some twenty yards from the Eastern Avenue, were iron glazed with white enamel and anchored by massive gate towers of whitened stone.

  Squad leader Zhulyn rode toward Mykella and Maeltor, reining in his mount as he neared them. “Lady-Protector, Captain, there aren’t many people here, just retainers.”

  That didn’t surprise Mykella, either. “I’ll still need to look around.”

  “This way, Lady.”

  Mykella followed the squad leader up the stone-paved lane from the gates to a circular drive around a hedged garden. The base of the raised garden was held in by a white marble wall, sculpted with an elaborate floral frieze all the way around, it appeared. On the far side of the garden was a covered entry rotunda with mounting blocks and steps of white marble leading to a set of three arches. The two arches flanking the double doors of the entry arch were filled with gold and green stained glass that fanned out from the base. The doors were of gleaming brass.

  Mykella said nothing as she dismounted, but her previous anger was nothing compared to what she was feeling at the moment. She walked up the steps, and the ranker stationed there opened the door for her.

  The circular main entry hall was high-ceilinged and twice the size of the entry hall in the villa that had been Joramyl’s. The floor was polished green marble, and inlaid in the center, under the dome, was a mosaic depicting Porofyr and his wife. The faces had been created in detail, out of semiprecious stones that remained in place and showed a younger Porofyr. Mykella stepped back from the mosaic. While pedestals were set in alcoves regularly spaced around the hall, all were empty although they had apparently held statues or other art of value. The brass brackets that had held hangings remained in place, but the hangings were gone.

  “Most things of value have already been taken, it appears,” she said to Maeltor.

  “I would judge so.”

  She stepped toward the archway at the back of the entry hall. She might as well see what there was to see … and make her own judgments as to how much Porofyr had stolen.

  How can you tell what came from his factoring and what he stole?

  She shook her head.

  In the end it didn’t matter. All she could reclaim were the golds she’d captured and the property and whatever else was left.

  So much for the merely mundane and boring business of dealing with ministers.

  30

  By midmorning on Quattri, Mykella’s head was aching with all the questions swirling through her mind, but one kept coming back as she stood by the window looking out across the avenue at the park that had yet to see gardeners cleaning up the broken branches and debris.

  How could all of this have happened?

  How? Just one look at a villa like Porofyr’s should have told her father something was amiss. Hadn’t he ever really looked? She should have guessed, if only from the faintly amused expressions and words when the Seltyrs attended the balls at the palace and the condescension concealed behind their polite words. Except that you could only speculate about the reasons until you began to master your Talent.

  But … she seemed to face the same problem all over again. Each improvement in her Talent and her understanding seemed to reveal problems of which she’d had no idea before, and while her Talent had increased, so had the scope of the problems before her. She was facing a possible invasion and the likely desertion of at least some of the wealthiest Seltyrs, but to keep the Seltyrs from running off, she’d need almost all the Southern Guards—leaving nothing to fight the coastal princes. Yet if she fought the coastal princes, if she beat them back, or even destroyed them by some way she hadn’t figured out, she’d still have problems with the Seltyrs.

  The first thing before she had gone to her study, after a long breakfast where she’d explained to her sisters for the second time—the first being at dinner the evening before—exactly what Porofyr had done, was to find Haelyt. The two of them had counted the golds in the chests taken from Porofyr’s wagon. There were almost seven thousand. In addition, there was a pouch containing gemstones that were probably worth more than the golds. She’d kept the gems and two thousand golds and had them stored in her personal strong room.

  He had already shipped most of his wealth to Southgate. Mykella shook her head. She could and would seize the villa and grounds, but she needed golds more than lands and buildings at the moment. Why did he wait so long before trying to leave? Was that because he wanted to take everything he could before I discovered what he’d done?

  After that, she’d drafted and sent short messages about Porofyr to the head clerk in the Highways and Rivers Ministry, to Cerlyk, to Lord Gharyk—and to Areyst, knowing the commander would not receive her missive until late in the day. She’d also dispatched a message to Chief Engineer Nusgeyl to begin repairs on the towpaths, under the conditions she’d outlined to Duchael earlier, although she chafed at having to spell them out again. Then she’d used the Table to check on Khanasyl and others. The First Seltyr had not appeared overly distraught as he had been sitting in a rather ornate study. After that, she’d returned to her formal study and drafted letters to High Factors Pytroven and Zylander, requesting that they call upon her at the palace at their convenience.

  Then Rachylana showed up with Elwayt so that the three of them could go over costs of running the palace and discuss the season-turn ball. When they left, Mykella sat there for several moments, realizing that most of the morning had vanished.

  More than once, she’d tried to figure what took all of her time. There were the various letters she had to read and reply to … and the constant references to the master Finance ledgers, the meetings with the clerks about expenditures, largely because she had so few ministers, and that didn’t include her “scouting missions” through the darkness, her time using the Table …

  If she had more people she could trust … if she could find such … and that took more golds and time to train them, and she already didn’t have much of either left over

  “Lord Gharyk, Lady,” announced Chalmyr, stepping into the study. The old scrivener raised his eyebrows just slightly.

  Mykella understood. Gharyk was agitated, or less than happy. “Thank you. I’ll see him.” She turned and walked back toward the desk.

  Gharyk
hurried in. “Lady-Protector, I just received your message. This is most … disturbing.”

  “About Porofyr?” Mykella gestured to the chairs, then settled behind the desk.

  Gharyk sat down, except it was more like perching on the front edge of the chair. “Lady-Protector, you certainly have the right to take a Seltyr into custody, and even to demand and carry out an execution, but the method … a writ for his detention would have created less concern.”

  “Lord Gharyk … I do understand that. But exactly how do you propose that I could have found Porofyr once he rode off? It’s not as though I have thousands of Southern Guards that I can dispatch to hunt him down every road. I caught him just before he left Tempre for good. He had an armored wagon filled with chests of gold, and he had already sent the wagon to Southgate several times, filled with even larger chests. His family had already departed, along with most of the valuable items from his villa, and I have no doubt that the golds he siphoned off from the Ministry of Highways and Rivers are largely in Southgate. Duchael warned him that I was going out to see him, and now he has fled as well.”

  “Oh … dear…”

  “Exactly. Everywhere I look, someone has been siphoning off golds. The Southern Guards is understrength. The Treasury is depleted; the coastal princes appear to be raising an army to attack.” She paused. “And I have to worry about greedy Seltyrs who have essentially plundered the land. If I kill them all, and that’s what most of them deserve, I’ll have no commerce and even greater ruin. Yet this can’t go on.” And that doesn’t include what the Ifrits will do.

  Gharyk said nothing.

  “Can it? If Lanachrona is to survive? Or had they all planned to dismember the land and have one of the coastal princes or the Seltyrs of Southgate take over?” Mykella paused. Was that why Joramyl had sent all the golds to Northcoast? To build a force to repulse Southgate without alerting the Seltyrs of the southwest? Did that mean that Cheleyza and Chalcaer would merely point out that they were going to take over a corrupted Lanachrona from a weak Lady-Protector and greedy Seltyrs?

  “I do not know what the First Seltyr and others may have planned.” Gharyk’s voice turned wry. “I am not exactly in their graces.”

  “I doubt that we will ever know what they had in mind. Not now. They will either flee or protest that they are loyal, and for those who remain, there will be little evidence to the contrary by nightfall today.” Not that there was much of that to begin with.

  “You understand much, Lady.”

  Mykella offered a crooked smile. “I think what you’re suggesting is that there’s still a great deal that I don’t understand. You’re right about that.” She paused. “We do have to act to make it clear where I stand. I want a proclamation that states that any Seltyr or factor who has committed a crime and leaves Tempre will have all assets and land seized and held for public sale at the discretion of the Lady-Protector.”

  “You can do that, Lady, but will that not tempt many Seltyrs to leave?”

  “It probably will tempt some, but I’m certain that there are High Factors who would very much appreciate gaining warehouses and other trading assets at a comparatively low price. I also don’t want someone or their heirs complaining that they didn’t know or didn’t understand.” She paused. “I also haven’t forgotten about the other document. The problem there is that I don’t know that replacing one gaoler is likely to change anything at all.”

  “That is true, Lady.”

  “I’d appreciate any ideas you may have on that as well.”

  “I would suggest turning the operation of the gaol over to the Southern Guards for a time and have Commander Areyst train a new gaoler and those who work for him. Any other option would not accomplish what you have in mind.”

  Mykella nodded. “Then doing so will have to wait. We scarcely have enough Southern Guards to deal with the threats from the coastal princes. In the meantime, I would like you to put down your thoughts in writing as to how the gaol should be operated and who should have what duties and what responsibilities. That way, when we do make the necessary changes, everyone will know what those changes are and why they are being made.”

  “That may be for the best.”

  “It’s not for the best, Lord Gharyk, but as you have pointed out, at times not everything that should be done can be done.” Mykella wasn’t certain he’d actually said that, but the sentiment lay behind much of his advice.

  She smiled and listened to more of his advice for almost half a glass, then, after he left, slipped back to the family quarters to eat. She’d barely returned to the formal study after gulping down cold lamb and warm bread and a mug of passable lager before Chalmyr rapped on the door.

  “The First Seltyr is here to see you.”

  “Good. I need to see him.” Mykella stood. She didn’t want to be sitting.

  The physically impressive and broad-shouldered Seltyr stepped through the door, which Chalmyr closed quickly and quietly behind him. Both Khanasyl’s gray hair and square-cut and equally gray beard were slightly disheveled. He barely bowed before beginning. “Lady-Protector, I have received most disturbing news…” His high voice was controlled, but there was great emotion behind that control.

  “There have been a number of most disturbing events recently, First Seltyr. To which are you referring?”

  “The manner in which you … dealt with Minister Porofyr. There were no justicing procedures, no writs … You have that authority, but it has not been used in generations and for good reason, particularly against an honorable Seltyr—”

  “A Seltyr, yes. An honorable one?” Mykella’s voice dripped scorn. “No Seltyr who diverts tariff-raised golds from the Treasury to his own coffers is in any way honorable. No Seltyr who has his men open fire on the Southern Guards is either loyal or honorable.”

  “He did those things? Truly?”

  Surprisingly, Mykella could sense honest shock behind Khanasyl’s even facade, but she suspected that shock was more at Porofyr’s stupidity … or his getting caught. “He did indeed, and he corrupted his assistant minister as well. Porofyr knew full well what he was doing. He had already emptied his villa of all valuables and sent his family to Southgate. He has on at least two occasions sent an armored wagon filled with golds to Southgate as well, and the first of those trips took place before I became Lady-Protector.”

  The disclosure of the timing shocked Khanasyl more than the revelation of Porofyr’s actions. For a moment, his eyes flickered, and his jaw started to drop. “That is most interesting.”

  “I am certain that it is, because it means that he has been deceiving you as well. Do you think that such is the mark of an honorable Seltyr?”

  “Lady-Protector, I cannot speak to what this man has done … or failed to do. I can only speak for the honorable Seltyrs who remain. They are worried greatly, and they have asked whether Tempre remains a good place for trade.” Khanasyl’s voice was mild.

  Behind the smooth words, Mykella sensed calculation. “Why would you say that?”

  “It would appear, or so some have said, that Tempre is less safe than it once was. For trade to be profitable, a land must be safe.” Khanasyl’s smile was condescending. “I do not approve of what Porofyr has done, if it is as you say, and I have no reason to believe that it is otherwise. Yet … why would a Seltyr uproot himself and leave so much of value behind if he did not feel that such steps were necessary?”

  What can you say to that? Mykella nodded politely, thinking. You can’t use Talent force on everyone. They’ll just be angry and fearful and offended once they leave your presence. And they’re not already, after what you did to Porofyr? Besides, it’s most likely that they all regard me as a powerful child, who can destroy them and fails to understand the complexities of their world. “Less safe, First Seltyr? In what manner? Compared to what and when?” She kept her voice pleasant.

  “In the recent past, we did not have brigands attacking the palace and the villas of Seltyrs. Nor did we have the
Lord-Protector taking the law directly to a Seltyr, regardless of the cause.”

  “In the past, no Lord-Protector needed to take the law directly to a Seltyr because Seltyrs did not deceive and corrupt, then attempt to flee before their offenses were discovered.” That was unlikely to be true, Mykella knew, but there was no way that Khanasyl was about to say that Seltyrs had always been greedy and self-centered. “As for the brigands … they had powerful ancient weapons. Yet they were brought down quickly.”

  “Most assuredly.” Khanasyl smiled openly and falsely. “But one might ask why they felt it necessary to make such an attack?”

  “One might indeed. One might also ask why they fled the palace and attacked a Seltyr’s villa. One might even ask if that might be because so many of the golds that flow into Tempre go not to the palace Treasury or to the people, but to the Seltyrs. I have noted that many of the villas of Seltyrs are far grander and expansive—and more well-appointed—than the palace. Also most interesting is the fact that those villas are the ones most recent in their construction and furnishings.” She smiled, as falsely as had Khanasyl. “If Tempre is not so safe as it might be, could that just possibly be because my predecessors were too preoccupied with pleasing the Seltyrs and less concerned about maintaining order and justice within Tempre? Might it be that some of the threats we face from the coastal princes might have arisen because they feared to collect tariffs adequate to maintain the Southern Guards?”

  Khanasyl’s eyes narrowed slightly. “There are implications behind your words…”

  “Indeed there are, but you might note, First Seltyr, that I did not say a single word that could be taken as less than complimentary about anyone but my predecessors. My goals are to improve justice and order and to strengthen Lanachrona. Surely, from your own words, you and the other Seltyrs would not wish otherwise … would you?”

  Khanasyl was silent for the briefest of moments. Then he laughed. “You do well with words, Lady-Protector. You are personally very powerful. But a land is nourished by golds. Golds are gathered and multiplied by those who combine skill and trade and factoring.”