Alastar didn’t believe a word. “You could have managed that earlier.”
“No. That would not have been possible. Ryen would have been furious. It was bad enough that my cousin is an imager.”
Alastar managed a frown. “I’ve been over the records of all the imagers here at Imagisle…”
“You obviously did not look far enough.” She smiled. “Smarthyl.”
“Smarthyl? The senior imager at Mont D’Image? He’s a cousin of yours? I’ve looked at his record too, but there’s no mention of that.”
“He is a friend of the archivist…”
“Of Maitre Obsolym?”
“I believe that’s his name. I’ve never paid that much attention to the Collegium since Smarthyl left. It didn’t seem…”
“Relevant?”
“I believe you said that, Maitre, not me.”
“Only after your hinting.”
“That’s a woman’s prerogative, I believe.”
“Among others.”
“What is new that I should know?”
“Lorien appears to be stalling over the wording of his tariff proclamation.” Alastar delivered the words evenly.
“He can be deliberate when there is no choice, or when nothing is at stake.”
“That’s not the kindest thing to say about your son.”
“I lost my illusions long ago, Maitre. Even about my sons. Lorien cultivates the impression of deliberation because he is … less than decisive. Ryentar, on the other hand, will stick to a course once he starts upon it, even when it is proved to him that such a course is absolute folly … or worse. Lorien appears cold, but is too tender for his own good. Ryentar projects warmth, so much so that everyone likes him, yet deep within him is a cold emptiness and, if he feels wronged, an unquenchable anger.” Asarya shrugged.
Asarya’s words called up what Obsolym had said about Ryentar—that he was more like his father. Yet …
Asarya stopped short of the open doorway ahead. “I’d prefer we not talk about either for a time.”
“As you wish.”
She gestured for him to enter.
Alastar smiled and said, “I could not precede you, Lady.”
Echoing his own words, she replied, “As you wish,” and entered the salon, where a young blond woman, also wearing the green and black of mourning, immediately rose from one of the cushioned armchairs.
“Have you met Lady Chelia, Maitre?”
“I’ve not had that honor, or that privilege.” Alastar inclined his head to the statuesque beauty—not only tall and well-proportioned, if fully figured, but slightly square-chinned with a slight dimple, a straight nose, a fair but not pale complexion, blond hair, and brilliant blue eyes. In an instant, Alastar knew he had seen those eyes, and someone very similar in appearance. Bettaur! He managed not to stiffen as the realization struck him.
“It is my pleasure, Maitre.” Chelia’s voice was warm, yet reserved. She glanced to Asarya. “You didn’t warn me that such a distinguished personage was coming.”
“I didn’t know if he would. I asked, and he was kind enough to indulge me.”
More like wariness, rather than kindness. “How could I refuse?”
“Rather easily, I think, if you wished,” replied Asarya pleasantly.
“Not easily, with all your charm, certainly not wisely.” Alastar turned toward Chelia, “And I would have lost the opportunity to meet this lovely young lady.”
“You sound like Ryentar,” offered Chelia.
“I doubt it. He offers warmth all the time. I only have words.”
“Both can deceive,” observed Chelia. “Words are more honest in their deception, because lies can be discovered through truth.”
“And false warmth cannot?” asked Alastar not quite playfully.
“Usually the damage is greater before discovery occurs,” returned Chelia.
Without saying a negative word, Chelia had suggested that she did not have the highest opinion of Ryentar … or so it seemed. But why would she even hint at that in front of Asarya?
“I feel that words offer a wider range for deception and devastation,” said Asarya. “That is one of a number of areas where Chelia and I do not see matters in exactly the same light.”
Another charade? Yet when Alastar looked at Chelia and caught what he thought was a quickly concealed expression of surprise, he had the feeling that the younger woman had been caught unaware as well. “I would have to agree with you, Lady Asarya, at least in part, in that the use of words can engender far greater damage and destruction in the world of the physical. But the use or misuse of feelings can blight a life forever, and perhaps continue beyond one generation, while the words that can create the circumstances to kill an individual often end their destruction with that death.”
“Often…” mused Asarya. “You are very careful with your words, Maitre. That suggests you are also quite skilled in their use.”
“Not so skilled as I would like. My words failed to convince many about the need to compromise on the issue of tariffs.” Mentioning the tariff issue was a dangerous gambit, but Alastar wanted to see Asarya’s reaction.
“What happened subsequently suggests that it is wise to heed your words, Maitre.”
“Not because they were my words, Lady, but because there was truth in what I spoke.”
“Truth, Maitre … or power?”
Alastar laughed softly. “You give one pause, Lady.”
“I notice you did not answer.”
“Because you offered a choice between alternatives, neither of which applied fully or completely accurately.” Alastar could see and feel Chelia’s eyes following the conversation, shifting from him to Asarya and back again, although she maintained an expression of vague amusement, much as one might in observing a fight between two beasts, with neither of which she was even faintly enamored. “The truth one finds in words lies more in one’s own convictions than in the accuracy of what those words convey.”
“You mean to say,” said Chelia sweetly, “that we wish to hear the words that support our beliefs? How original.”
“No, it’s rather a threadbare observation, for all its accuracy. I tried, and obviously failed, to convey the idea more elegantly.” Alastar offered a self-deprecating laugh. “Elegance, I should remember, is often complicit in deception.”
“You see,” observed Asarya, “the maitre is indeed most skilled with words … among other things.”
“As are you, Lady.”
Asarya smiled. “I do not believe that Lady Chelia and I should detain you longer, Maitre, Your exposition was, however, truly fascinating.”
“Only because of your inspiration, Lady.” Alastar smiled and inclined his head. “Good day, Ladies.”
“A pleasant evening to you, Maitre.”
Alastar continued to smile before turning and leaving the salon. He had hoped Asarya would let him have the last word. The fact that she had worried him even more than the fact that she had clearly used him as a counter of some sort in dealing with Chelia … and he had no idea why or what Asarya had in mind … only that he doubted it was anywhere close to being for his benefit or that of the Collegium.
When he started down the outside steps, he saw Maercyl and Dhonaet immediately mount and then ride forward, leading the gray gelding to meet him.
“We need to get moving,” Alastar said, after mounting and looking to the northwest and the wall of clouds that looked to be roughly over the grounds of the army headquarters.
“Yes, sir,” replied Maercyl.
Even in the short time it took the three to reach the Boulevard D’Ouest, scattered droplets began to fall. When they reached the West River Road and headed south, the droplets were a steady downpour, and when Alastar finally started across the Bridge of Desires, it was like riding through a wall of water. Needless to say, just as he dismounted outside the stables, after a last blast of water and wind, the rain ended.
Alastar, thoroughly soaked, let the stable boy
s groom the gelding and began to walk toward the Maitre’s dwelling, his thoughts on the webs within webs that seemed to permeate everything in L’Excelsis.
35
The first thing Alastar did after breakfast on Jeudi morning was to summon Akoryt. While he waited, he kept trying to puzzle out his meeting with Asarya and Chelia. Clearly, Asarya had managed to use the conversation, if one could call it that, to position Alastar as a powerful man who well might be, or in fact was, a danger to Lorien. Why was another question, since Alastar had a vested interest in Lorien’s success. Yet Asarya had seemed relatively evenhanded in discussing her sons’ faults, but had that merely been to set up matters so that she could then portray Alastar as dangerous to Lorien? That seemed most likely, but that still left the question of why? So Lorien and Chelia would try some indirect way of removing Alastar? Then there was something about Lady Chelia … but it wasn’t only her resemblance to Bettaur, which suggested, along with other hints, that their fathers might well be the same man—which definitely fit with what Alastar had discovered. There was something else beyond that tickling Alastar’s mind … he just couldn’t place it.
He still couldn’t place it when Akoryt entered the study. Alastar pushed that puzzle aside and said, “If you’d close the door.”
“Yes, sir.” Akoryt did just that, then asked, “Have I—”
“Nothing like that. I didn’t mean to be peremptory in sending a message for you to come here. For most matters, I would have sought you out. For this … I did not wish us to be overheard. I’m going to need you to have some more scouting done. I have more concerns about the army. Rex Lorien initially agreed to reduce the size of the army and to issue the new tariff schedule. Now, several days later, he’s put off doing either, despite the fact that the High Holders have agreed to the proposed tariff schedule. Both Marshal Petayn and Sea Marshal Wilkorn oppose reductions in force, and another meeting has been scheduled for next Lundi to discuss the matter further.”
Akoryt frowned.
“After our last … encounter with the army, you can see why I might be somewhat concerned.”
“Sir … we did inflict considerable damage…”
“That was because we used their own powder against them. Even so, we lost two imagers out of something like fifteen. What if they attacked Imagisle with hundreds, if not thousands, of troopers? How many would we then lose?”
“But they would lose far, far more.”
“They have over seven thousand troopers just here in L’Excelsis, and it appears as if the Collegium is the only force capable of keeping the marshals from getting their way.”
“What about the High Holders?”
“They’re spread out all across Solidar, and I doubt any have a guard force of even a hundred.”
“Do you really think…?”
“I could be wrong. I hope I’m wrong. But if I’m right, and we’re not prepared…”
“I see your point, sir. I’ll get right on it.”
Less than a quint after Akoryt had left, Dareyn appeared at the study door with Arhgen.
“Sir? Do you know if Rex Lorien has rescinded the reduction in the monthly stipend for the Collegium?”
Another thing you forgot to ask about. Except it wasn’t that Alastar had so much forgotten as not wanted to bring up at the times he had met with Lorien. “At the moment, it appears that the reduction remains in force. That’s likely to remain so at least until the matter of the High Holders’ tariffs is resolved. Hopefully, that will be accomplished before the end of the month, but whether that happens remains to be seen.”
“Then you wish to avoid unnecessary purchases?” asked Arhgen.
“That’s correct, but some purchases still may have to be made. If Petros doesn’t purchase winter fodder now, then we may not be able to obtain any at any price by mid-Finitas. If you have questions…” Alastar almost laughed. That was clearly why Arhgen was at the door. “Come on in, and we’ll go over what everyone tells you is absolutely necessary, and we’ll see what really has to be purchased now and what purchases can be put off.”
In the end, going over what Arhgen had questions about and working out how much of what could be purchased and when took almost two glasses. Then Alastar went to find Obsolym. The elder Maitre D’Structure was in a smallish room in the anomen finishing up a basic instructional for primes. Alastar waited until they all left before approaching Obsolym.
“Yes, Maitre?”
“Some things have come up. Once more, I need your knowledge and insight. Was Desyrk in charge of instructionals and student discipline before Maitre Smarthyl left for Mont D’Image?”
“No, sir. Smarthyl was. He thought he would be senior maitre, but then Maitre Cyran demonstrated all the abilities of a Maitre D’Esprit. Maitre Fhaen suggested that Smarthyl might be happier to take over the senior imager position—that’s the head position there, you know?”
Alastar forbore observing that he’d known that for many years, only nodding. “When was that? Do you recall?”
“A little over five years ago. It might have been longer.”
“That was about the time when Bettaur came to the Collegium, wasn’t it?”
“Around that time. I couldn’t be sure.” Obsolym tilted his head. “No … Bettaur came just after Smarthyl left. I remember that, because Desyrk should have been the one to settle incoming students, but Maitre Fhaen and Desyrk did it together. Maitre Fhaen said that there were certain students who needed to be eased into the Collegium, and he wanted Desyrk to know how and when to do that, and Bettaur was the first one of those.”
“Tertius Arion arrived after Bettaur, then?”
“Several months later, as I recall.”
Alastar nodded. “Thank you.”
“Might I ask why you wanted to know, sir?”
“I just wondered how close Bettaur might have been to Maitre Desyrk, and if he was, how that might have happened.”
“I wouldn’t say that they were close, but once Bettaur was settled, I don’t think Maitre Fhaen ever asked about him.” Obsolym raised his eyebrows, suggesting that Alastar hadn’t really answered the question.
“I’m trying to figure out who Desyrk might be seeking support from, besides his family, and since he seemed to bend over backward for Bettaur, I was just thinking…” Alastar shrugged.
“But Bettaur’s parents are dead.”
Alastar shook his head. “His mother and his guardian are dead, but it doesn’t matter because from what Bettaur and you have said, Desyrk wouldn’t seek out Bettaur’s father.”
“If you already knew…”
“After the way you’ve seen how Bettaur twists the truth, would you trust his unsupported word?” asked Alastar sardonically.
Obsolym offered a rueful smile. “I fear I see your point.”
“Thank you. I won’t keep you longer.”
As he walked back toward the Maitre’s dwelling, Alastar couldn’t help thinking about the situation. Lady Asarya was a cousin to Smarthyl and linked in some way to Ryel the elder, who had been Lady Chelia’s father and most likely Bettaur’s as well. Desyrk had accompanied Marshal Ghalyn to the Chateau D’Rex, and someone had whispered his name in presumably a less than casual way. Yet Smarthyl had left L’Excelsis more than five years earlier to go to Mont D’Image on the seemingly flimsiest of reasons. Why?
Does it even matter?
Alastar had the feeling that all those entangled relationships had a definite bearing on his own difficulties, but, again, he didn’t know enough to sort out how or why. He set aside those questions once he reached his study … and the master ledger he needed to study again.
Slightly after first glass, Dareyn rapped on the door. “I have a message from the rex.” He held an envelope.
Alastar rose and crossed the room to take it. “Does he expect a response?”
“I don’t think so. The courier just delivered it and left.”
Alastar frowned, then took his belt knife and slit the en
velope. He scanned the few sentences with the precise signature of the rex immediately below it.
In view of matters, and because I have not completed my draft of the tariff proclamation, I have postponed this afternoon’s meeting until tomorrow afternoon at fourth glass …
Alastar couldn’t say he was totally surprised with the first sentence.
You will doubtless be pleased to know that Marshal Petayn has sent a missive confirming that he is immediately moving more than a regiment to Lucayl as you recommended. The first units are already moving south.
That was all. Alastar looked to Dareyn. “I need to find Maitre Akoryt. Did he say where he was going?”
“No, sir.”
“I’ll try the anomen and then the stables. If he shows up here in the meantime, have him wait for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alastar did manage to find Akoryt, if leaving the stables.
“Maitre … I was coming to tell you that I have the thirds in position to see, as well as they can, what is happening at army headquarters.”
“You’ll likely have to make some adjustments. I’ve just received word from Rex Lorien that he has been informed that Marshal Petayn is immediately relocating a regiment south and east to Solis.”
Akoryt frowned. “If all they’re doing is moving a regiment to the south…”
“You can’t prepare to move an entire regiment in three days. That means they’re up to something else. Since the best route to Solis is by the river roads, and since the best road south, at least as far as Caluse, is the West River Road, no one will think much of them traveling that way … but that means they can be very close to Imagisle. I want to know how many troopers are leaving headquarters, and where they are at all times. I also want to know what the troopers remaining at headquarters are doing.”
“Do you think they’ll really attack Imagisle?”
“I have no idea what they have in mind,” temporized Alastar, “but the last thing we need is to be surprised.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll make the adjustments.”
When Alastar returned to the Maitre’s dwelling, Alyna was waiting … in the study.
Madness in Solidar Page 47