“Then when might we expect you to repair the sewers along the Boulevard D’Este near Nordroad? Or perhaps those near Fedre and Sudroad?” Elthyrd practically glared.
“When might the Collegium expect reimbursement from the factors’ council for undertaking what the council has not while the people of L’Excelsis have suffered?” countered Alastar. “And how much will you pay us to undertake those other repairs?”
Elthyrd’s mouth opened, gaping like that of a fish out of water, and for several moments, no sound issued from his lips. “You … you think you should be paid for such … such an affront to the day of the Nameless and a disruption of a peaceful Solayi?”
“You would have been more greatly offended if we had closed off part of the East River Road during a time when factors and shopkeepers were actually using the avenue, and since one needs to see to make repairs, doing so at night was not practical. As for the Nameless, why would there be any objection to work that made L’Excelsis a better place?”
“You have answers for everything, but those answers are not acceptable to the council.”
“Why not?” asked Alastar, trying not to overreact, but wondering why the factor was so agitated. “We removed a source of stench and odor, and we did not disrupt business.”
“You disrespected the Nameless, and his chorister.”
“No disrespect was intended, Factorius Elthyrd. We were trying to remedy something that was making it hard for people to breathe.”
“You should have consulted the council first.”
Alastar forbore mentioning that Ryen had been “consulting” with the council for weeks, and that nothing had happened. “I likely should have, although I had not realized that resolving a problem would create such consternation. In my newness to L’Excelsis and my ignorance, I had actually thought people would be pleased to have a problem resolved.”
“Do not mock me or the council.”
Alastar sighed. “Master Factorius, I have not mocked anyone. I attempted to solve a problem no one else has addressed. I had no idea that repairing a stinking sewer ditch would upset anyone.”
“I can see that,” snorted Elthyrd. “The sewers are the province of the council, but the rex is supposed to provide stipends for the work. He did not do that. By repairing the most odious of the sewers, you have deprived the council of the leverage necessary to obtain not only the golds for repairing those sewers, but those for the others which require repairs.”
Alastar saw the conflict. Ryen was trying to use the sewers as another way to force the factors to support increased tariffs, and the factors were using public unrest to put pressure on Ryen for more golds. “I beg your pardon, Master Factor, but I would hope you would recall that I am new to L’Excelsis. While what you have just said makes a great deal clearer, it is not something that Rex Ryen would reveal to me. Yet you are angry at me for not knowing something I would have no way to know in such a short time, and something that I doubt my predecessor knew either.”
“That does not speak highly of either of you.”
Alastar forced himself not to lash out at the idiot factor. “Had this occurred a year from now, such a judgment would be deserved. It is premature under the current circumstances.”
“So what are you going to do, Maitre?”
“To consider what the Collegium can do to rectify the situation, after thinking it over and then consulting with you.”
“I hope it gets farther than consideration and thought. That was all Maitre Fhaen ever said.”
The time is past for that, unhappily. “I will be in touch with you shortly.”
“I do hope so.” Elthyrd nodded brusquely. “Until later.” With that, he turned and left.
For a moment, Alastar stood there, somewhere between stunned and bemused at the thought that Elthyrd had no concept of what an imager maitre could do. It’s been far too long since the Collegium showed its power.
“Sir…?” Dareyn peered in through the study door that the factor had left open.
“Yes?”
“Factor Elthyrd left here looking … not very happy,” said Dareyn warily.
“‘Furious’ might be a better word. He came in and attacked me and the Collegium for not consulting with the council, and for destroying the sanctity of Solayi. Do you have any idea why he emphasized the sanctity of Solayi?”
“It might be because his brother is Chorister Lytaarl.”
Alastar looked hard at Dareyn.
“Ah … I thought you knew, sir,” offered Dareyn.
“Exactly how would I know?” asked Alastar coolly. “I’ve never met Chorister Lytaarl, and I’d never heard his name before Iskhar mentioned his concerns on Lundi.” His voice softened. “Please remember that I did not grow up here in L’Excelsis. Names and acts that all of you know may be unknown to me. I’d rather be reminded of something I already know than blindsided by something I don’t. Please keep that in mind, if you would.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I shouldn’t have been short with you, but please volunteer anything you think I should know.” After a moment, he asked, “Do you know anything about why the factors and the rex are squabbling over the sewers?”
Dareyn appeared puzzled by the question. “No, sir. Maitre Fhaen never mentioned it.”
“Thank you. I’ll have to go meet with the factor again, but I don’t know when yet.”
After he returned to his study, Alastar walked back and forth, thinking. No one tells anyone anything, as if the withholding of knowledge conveyed power. He paused. And it does, if one considers that lack of knowledge will cause difficulties on the part of others. The problem is that one’s enemies already have that knowledge, and those who suffer are the bystanders.
That wasn’t the only problem he faced. Another problem was that the Collegium had done nothing of note for years to gain the respect or support of anyone. All that previous Maitres had done was to receive golds from the rex, occasionally support him, but mostly take young imagers and train them, but only to maintain the Collegium. That meant few either respected the Collegium or needed anything from it.
He took a deep breath.
Like it or not, he was going to have to meet with Elthyrd again, and not lose his temper, and offer to repair other sewers, suggesting that the reason for the lack of golds was the low level of tariffs. And that will infuriate Ryen, especially if it slows building his avenue to the chateau.
There was also the potential problem of the army command and Marshal Demykalon, one that Alastar hadn’t even begun to consider, let alone address, with the likelihood that there were more hidden pitfalls there as well.
10
On Jeudi morning, before Alastar left the Collegium to meet with Nacryon, he made his way to the northwest corner of the administration building where Obsolym presided over the archives. The older maitre looked up. “Good morning, Maitre. What brings you here?”
“You. You’ve been with the Collegium longer than any maitre. While we do not always see eye-to-eye on some matters, your knowledge and experience are most valuable. So I’ve come once more to ask you about something. What do you know about chief factor Elthyrd?”
“He’s head of the factors’ council. He’s supposedly a silent partner in the new banque.”
“The Banque of L’Excelsis?”
“I think that’s what it’s called, or maybe Banque D’Excelsis. Maitre Fhaen tried not to meet with him. He found such meetings wearing and wearying, and he could get along with almost anyone.”
“I met with Factor Elthyrd yesterday, and I understand fully what Maitre Fhaen meant.”
Obsolym nodded and smiled knowingly.
“He expressed some concern that we repaired that section of the sewer without consulting the factors’ council. Do you know why the factors would be that concerned?”
“No, sir … except maybe they’d hoped to pry more golds out of the rex for making the repairs. That’s my best judgment.
Maitre Fhaen never said anything about it.”
“I suspect you may be right about that.” Alastar shook his head. “Is there anyone that the rex isn’t involved in some sort of struggle with?”
“Maitre Fhaen said he was … difficult, even as a child.”
“What about his children? I’ve met his sons, but only for a moment…”
“Lorien’s the heir. He’s reserved. Pleasant enough, Maitre Fhaen said. Ryentar is the younger. He takes after his sire. At least, that is what one hears.”
Alastar nodded, although from his brief meeting with the two it had seemed the other way around. “What about Lady Asarya? I’ve never heard a word about her.”
“Most don’t, sir. She and the rex have separate quarters, so it is said, and … well … some of the maids are said to be attractive.”
That didn’t totally surprise Alastar. It was clear Ryen would be difficult to live with. “With what does the lady busy herself?”
“I’d not be the one to say, sir.”
The way in which Obsolym offered the statement suggested that someone did. “Who might know more?”
“The only one who might know would be Maitre Desyrk. I understand his brother often attended meetings that Marshal Ghalyn had with the rex.”
Although Alastar nodded, he had to wonder just what sort of connections Desyrk had. You need to look into that. “I also understand that Chorister Lytaarl of the Anomen L’Excelsis is the brother of Factor Elthyrd. Do you know anything about him?”
“He’s said to give a good homily. He’s well thought of…”
“But?”
“I don’t know this for a fact, you understand, but I’ve heard that he agrees with anyone who can advance his anomen.”
“Or his collections in it on behalf of the Nameless?”
“Some have said that.”
“What have you heard about the High Holders on the High Council?”
“Almost nothing. Maitre Fhaen indicated … it was suggested that he keep a distance from the High Council.”
“I appreciate your insights, Obsolym. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
As he walked away, Alastar thought that Obsolym’s voice had held a trace of enjoyment … and amusement. So be it.
Because Nacryon’s L’Excelsis residence was well to the east of the city, Alastar and his two imager escorts left the Collegium just before seventh glass, first riding up the East River Road and then east on the Boulevard D’Este all the way out to a small circle that was supposedly called the Plaza D’Nord, where they took the old pike due east for close to a mille, until he saw a brick dwelling on a hillside, rising out of several terraced gardens, and surrounded by a brick wall. The gateposts were also brick, and the gates were open.
Alastar rode up a stone-paved drive that could barely accommodate a large wagon or coach to a flat area with a turnout and a paved area wide enough to allow coaches or wagons to turn and follow the drive up to the paved receiving area. A small roofed terrace, supported by brick columns, flanked the entry to the two-story mansion.
A footman greeted Alastar as he dismounted, and in moments, he was inside the mansion and walking down a short hall to a sitting room, where a man of medium height, likely a few digits shorter than Alastar, and attired in a rich brown jacket over a cream and tan doublet, with hose and shoes that matched his jacket, stepped forward. “Welcome.”
“Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
Nacryon—blond and green-eyed—offered a warm smile that extended to his eyes. “I’m most pleased you were willing to come here, Maitre Alastar. I must confess I’ve never met … well, I’ve never even seen a master imager before. But then, we don’t see that much of anything in Mantes, and I’ve only been here in L’Excelsis a few times since I became a councilor.”
“You have a well-established dwelling here, though.”
“I do. Not through inheritance. It dates back to Bovarian times. The previous owner claimed it once hosted the first Maitre of the Collegium.” Nacryon smiled indulgently. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“I fear not. Maitre Quaeryt left few records about his personal life or acquaintances. Nor did anyone else, it appears.”
“Another mystery in the early history of Solidar.” Nacryon gestured to the table set at one end of the sitting room, and an attractive serving girl in a cream tunic and brown trousers. “I’ve taken the liberty of arranging refreshments, since you would not be back at the Collegium until after noon, even if you left this moment.”
“You’re very kind.”
“Not at all.” Nacryon smiled again as he seated himself. “It’s in my interest to learn more about you and the Collegium. I can offer you pale or dark lager, ale, red or white wine.”
“Dark lager, please.”
The High Holder nodded to the server, who slipped away, then continued. “As a young man, I had dreamed of being an imager. I always wondered about why the Collegium so often deferred to the rex when it was so clear that the Maitre and the master imagers were so much more powerful than the rex, or even whole companies of armsmen.”
“Did you find an answer to your questions?” asked Alastar lightly.
“Not until I came to L’Excelsis and saw Imagisle. I’m certain you know what I’m about to say. If I’m wrong, though, I’d appreciate it if you’d point out any flaws in my observations.”
“I’d be surprised if there are any,” replied Alastar.
Nacryon frowned. “Why do you say that? We’ve scarcely met.”
“Because you’ve thought the matter over, and because it’s highly unlikely that the other four members of the High Council would appoint a dullard.”
Nacryon chuckled. “Neither did the senior imagers, either.”
“Go ahead,” suggested Alastar.
“One moment.” The High Holder waited until the server set a fluted goblet of a sparkling white wine before him and a tall crystal beaker of dark lager before Alastar. He lifted the goblet, “To a better future.”
“A better future.”
They drank.
“As I was saying,” Nacryon smiled again, “the Collegium must contain several hundred people, perhaps more. There are five senior master imagers, possibly twice that many junior masters, and around a hundred students. I would judge that only three or four of the masters are truly powerful…” He shrugged. “So you see…”
“Your facts are close to what is,” agreed Alastar. “I’d be interested in your conclusions.”
“There are many.” Nacryon sipped his sparkling wine. “Some might be more applicable than others.”
Alastar nodded and waited, taking another sip of the lager, of roughly the same quality as that offered by Vaun.
“The young students might have difficulty protecting themselves. The older imagers have wives and children. Except in Solidar, imagers are still mistrusted. In some lands they are either enslaved in iron chains or killed outright. A prudent Maitre of the Collegium must obviously keep that in mind. To my inexperienced eye, it would appear that past Maitres have done just that. Past rulers have been careful not to press too hard on the Collegium as well, and to be reasonable in their expectations of the Collegium, the High Holders, and the factors.”
“That is also an observation,” replied Alastar, “if a most astute one. I still fail to see exactly where you might be headed.”
Nacryon laughed again, gently. “I doubt that. The Collegium is not so … well-positioned as it has been or might be. The rex is, shall we say, less temperate than he might be. So there will be change. The only question is what sort of change and how it will come about.”
“You are very astute, I must say. Oh, and the lager is excellent, also. I notice that you have not mentioned the marshal and the army. They are under the authority of the rex.”
“That is true, but those skilled in arms and in command are also practical men.”
“And I cannot believe that at least some
of the senior officers do not come from a High Holder background.”
Nacryon smiled. “There is that.”
“You have an idea about what kind of … change … might occur and how?”
“As the most junior councilor? Hardly. As you yourself said, I have only made observations.”
“But most astute ones, and ones worth considering from all points of view, I would say.”
“What else would you say?”
“Change is not always what it is thought to be. Nor does change necessarily benefit those who seek it most earnestly.”
“The voice of caution, I see.”
Alastar shook his head. “Caution is too often cited by those who seek to stop the world in its traces. One cannot hold back a surging current, only channel and direct it. Both those who seek to block it and those who would turn it to narrow purposes usually drown.”
“That, too, is an interesting observation, Maitre. Do you have others?”
“Not at the moment.”
“What do you think of the lager?”
“Excellent. It has a heft without excessive bitterness…”
Although Alastar and Nacryon talked for another half glass, the words exchanged were about wines, lagers, and other pleasantries. The two parted with more warm and polite phrases.
On the long ride back toward the Collegium, Alastar considered what Nacryon had revealed … or observed … not to mention the veiled threat behind those observations, and the fact that Haebyn or Guerdyn, if not both, had most likely tutored Nacryon in what to “observe.”
He also had to deal with Elthyrd. He needed to meet again with the factor and propose that the Collegium, not having any golds, might make other sewer repairs, as well as find out more about where the factors’ council stood on tariffs. You know they’ll likely oppose them … but still want more warships to cut down on piracy. That might be, but he still needed to know how firmly the factors felt and whether they’d back the High Holders all the way.
Madness in Solidar Page 11