Assassin's Price

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “What is it, Churwyl?”

  “Commander Murranyt has left L’Excelsis, sir.”

  “When did he leave?”

  “Last month, according to the neighbors. No one seems to know where he went. The Civic Patrol says they have no idea.”

  “Do you have any idea why he left, Churwyl?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did he seem nervous when you talked to him before?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What did he say about the two men?”

  “That he had found them reliable and dependable, but that they had left the Civic Patrol to work as private guards because they could get better pay.”

  “Who had they worked for?”

  “Factor Goerynd. He makes pumps and other implements.”

  “Why were they more interested in working at the chateau?”

  “They said it was because Goerynd was falling on hard times and had let them go. Some factors have been.”

  “Did you talk to Goerynd?”

  “No, sir. I thought the recommendation of the commander was sufficient.”

  “Try to find out more, if you would.”

  “Yes, sir. Since it is Solayi, I may not be able to discover more until tomorrow.”

  “As soon as you can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After Churwyl left, Charyn took a deep breath. He knew he didn’t know enough, but … was anyone looking into anything in any depth?

  He looked at the papers and resumed reading. He needed to get through them all, just to know what he had to do immediately.

  His eyes were burning, and his head was aching by the time he left the study for dinner.

  The others were waiting in the family parlor.

  Chelia glanced at him.

  Charyn ignored the glance. “Has anyone here mentioned to anyone else the fact that Aloryana is an imager?”

  The others exchanged glances. Bhayrn shook his head. Chelia frowned.

  “I have not,” said Malyna.

  “Mother?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I think it best that we not even speak of it anywhere that we can be overheard. Aloryana should continue the same schedule as she has until almost the glass she leaves for the Collegium.”

  “You think someone on the staff is untrustworthy?” asked Chelia.

  “I don’t know. It’s more likely than not. I have no doubts that Aloryana will be safe so long as Maitre Malyna is near her, but I think it is wise to be cautious.” Charyn looked to his sister. “Aloryana…” he said, “lead on.”

  Charyn followed the others into the family dining room. He did not sit at the head of the table but in the position where he had always seated himself, thinking that he should have asked others to be circumspect much earlier.

  Chelia looked at him.

  “I prefer to leave Father’s position as it is until after the memorial service, call it a personal memorial.” A recognition that he died too soon and too young. And a reminder of other sorts. “I’ll say the gratitude tonight.” He cleared his throat gently, then began, “For the grace from above, which we may not understand, for the bounty of the earth below, for Your justice, and for Your manifold and great mercies, we offer our thanks and gratitude, both now and ever more, in the spirit of that which cannot be named or imaged. We also give thanks for those who are not here, and for all that they have meant, and all that they have conveyed in thought, word, and deed.”

  Then Charyn waited until all the goblets were filled before lifting his glass. “To Father, for all that he did and for his love and kindness to us.”

  “To Father,” repeated Bhayrn and Aloryana.

  “To Lorien,” said Malyna and Chelia.

  Charyn could see the brightness in his mother’s eyes, but she said nothing as she lowered her goblet.

  When everyone was served, slices of roasted mutton in a brown sauce, with herbed mashed potatoes, and baked seasoned carrots, as well as hot dark bread, Charyn cut a bite of the mutton and ate it, just so that everyone else could begin eating. Then he took another sip of the Montagne red wine.

  He was about to ask Malyna about the Collegium when Chelia glanced at Malyna and asked, “When did you know you were an imager?”

  “I knew I was when I was eleven. I managed to keep it hidden until I was ready to leave for Imagisle. I’d heard from my father just how dangerous imaging was, and how imagers had to be very careful. I was very careful.”

  “Had you ever been in L’Excelsis before?” asked Charyn.

  “No. Neither had my father. He also wanted to make certain I would be taken care of. He also wanted to meet Maitre Alastar.”

  “How is the Collegium different from a High Holding?” asked Chelia.

  Malyna smiled. “From what I’ve seen, my upbringing was very demanding compared to other High Holdings. Most girls there didn’t have to learn things like mathematics, geometry, surveying, or about how to groom and treat the common ailments of a horse … how to inspect a wagon or carriage to make certain it was sound … Even what crops are best grown in what kinds of land. They had to learn the clavecin, and whist, and the social graces, and how to read and write proper letters and invitations. We had to learn all that as well. So going to the Collegium wasn’t hard. I just had to learn some new things, such as the limitations of imaging and the proper technique … what kinds of imaging are dangerous…”

  Charyn listened intently as he ate, occasionally interjecting a question, knowing that his mother was trying not only to learn more about the Collegium, but to draw out Malyna in order to help prepare Aloryana.

  That was more than fine with him. A quiet dinner with the conversation centered on Aloryana’s future was best for all of them, even if the absence of his father felt all too unreal, as if he were just absent … and not dead.

  Later that evening, he sipped a single brandy across the table in his sitting room from Palenya, thinking.

  “You’re quiet this evening,” she observed.

  “After the last day…” He shook his head. “What are you thinking?”

  “About Lady Malyna. She’s an imager, everyone says.” Palenya looked down at her half-drunk goblet, almost as if she didn’t want to look at Charyn.

  “She is. She’s a very accomplished imager for her age. She’s a maitre.”

  “Is she really a High Holder’s daughter?”

  “Yes. That’s why none of us suspected.” Charyn wasn’t about to say anything about Aloyana also being an imager. Not yet. He wanted his sister safely out of the Chateau D’Rex before that became known to anyone outside the family and, of course, Alastar and Malyna.

  “It’s all so strange. You are suddenly rex, and Lady Malyna is an imager, and two trusted guards turn on your father…”

  “It’s very strange,” Charyn agreed.

  “How do the people who wanted your father dead think this will help? I wouldn’t want to do anything to help people like that.”

  “I won’t always be able to do what I’d like, even if I did order it. Even if I am rex. That’s one of the things that caused problems for my father. He couldn’t build that many more warships, because there aren’t enough shipyards and shipwrights. You can’t build shipyards and train shipwrights in weeks or even months.” Charyn shook his head. “I can’t believe that’s so hard for people to understand … but it is.”

  Palenya laughed softly. “People can be stupid when they don’t understand things. They ask me if I will play Farray’s third processional. It’s magnificent. It’s also a beastly piece of music that was written for a full orchestra. There isn’t even a clavecin score. Well … there might be, but no good clavecinist would ever think of playing it. It would take tens of glasses of practice to learn it well enough not to make mistakes, and it wouldn’t sound that good.” She shook her head. “They say, ‘You’re a musician. You must know this.’ No musician knows all the music in the world. One could spend life after life learning music and never learn it all. Y
et they all blame you for not being able to play every piece that they wish to hear.”

  Charyn nodded. “I don’t think I want to talk about it tonight.” He massaged his forehead with his left hand, trying to work away some of the tightness.

  “We don’t have to. I just wanted you to know that even poor musicians must deal with stupid people.”

  Charyn took another sip of the brandy, but just a sip, knowing that too much would leave him with an even worse headache in the morning.

  24

  When Charyn woke up early on Lundi, his headache was gone … and so was Palenya. Had he said something in his sleep to upset her? Or had she not slept well? He climbed out of bed and went to the window, pulling aside the window hangings. He had to scrape the frost off the glass to see out into a gray morning where the sun had yet to rise. From what he could tell, the wind had stopped blowing, and the sky was cloudless. The chill off the glass suggested that it was even colder outside than it had been the night before.

  He let the hangings fall back across the window, then turned and just stood there, thinking about all the things he had yet to do … and that didn’t include whatever he hadn’t thought of and should have.

  He washed, shaved, and dressed, then made his way down to the breakfast room. As seemed to be usual, he was the only one there, and he ate quickly. After finishing, he walked to Norstan’s study.

  The seneschal bolted up from behind his desk. “Yes, sir?”

  “Who has asked for an audience … or time with me?”

  “I don’t know that it’s a request. Chorister Saerlet wishes to speak to you about the memorial service.”

  “I’ll see him at eighth glass tomorrow.”

  “He had hoped…”

  “At the moment, I’m not going out of the chateau to meet anyone. You can tell him that my father has been assassinated and all of us have been shot at, my brother twice. I’m more than happy to speak with him, but it will be here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “No, sir. Not yet.”

  Charyn understood exactly what Norstan had not said. Once word spread that there was a new rex, after a time, there would be a flood of people wanting to meet with him, for various reasons, few of which were likely to be in Charyn’s best interests … or in the best interests of Solidar as a whole.

  After he left Norstan’s small study, Charyn immediately went up the circular staircase to the rex’s study, where he sat down and wrote out a missive to Marshal Vaelln. He managed to draft it with enough care that a second copy was not necessary. He read it over, slowly, twice.

  Commander—

  I would greatly appreciate your presence at the Chateau D’Rex on Jeudi, the fifth of Ianus at the first glass of the afternoon so that you can inform me of the immediate requirements of the Army and the Navy and so that we can discuss arrangements for the memorial service honoring Rex Lorien, which will take place at the Anomen R’Rex on Samedi, the seventh of Ianus, at the first glass of the afternoon.

  Then he signed and sealed it before sending for Churwyl, only to be informed that the guard captain had not yet returned to the chateau after having left at seventh glass that morning. So Charyn walked to Alucar’s study, where he knocked, but did not wait before entering.

  “Good morning, Minister Alucar.” Charyn did not seat himself.

  “Am I still minister?” asked Alucar genially as he stood.

  “If you wish. Until I decide otherwise.”

  “Then what can I do for you, Your Grace?”

  “Tell me what you think I should do … or should not do … and why.”

  “Telling a rex what he cannot do is generally not a wise thing to do, sir.”

  “Failing to tell me what I should avoid doing, in your judgment, may be even less wise.” Charyn tried to keep his voice level.

  “Do not make any hasty decisions. You may know what you wish to do in various matters, but do not hurry at the moment, except where you truly have no choice. If others press you for a decision, tell them you are new to being rex, and a bad decision will harm you and them, because if a bad decision pressed on you by another harms you, you will in turn see that it harms the person who insisted on a hurried decision.”

  “That makes sense. What else?”

  “Few things are as urgent as most people claim. The larger the amount of golds required for something, the less you should hurry in deciding whether it should be done.”

  “Does that include shipbuilding?” asked Charyn dryly.

  “I believe that matter has been discussed for some time. I imagine you’ve had sufficient time to draw your own conclusions.”

  “Marshal Vaelln told my father that there were not enough shipyards or shipwrights to increase the number of warships being built by very much. What is your view on that?”

  “The marshal is likely correct. That isn’t the question you should ask. The question is what it will cost to create or expand a shipyard capable of producing the number of ships that will be required for the foreseeable future. You will need to choose between paying someone else to do that or doing it yourself.”

  Charyn frowned.

  “At any one time,” Alucar went on, “there will be only a little additional capacity in any goods produced because capacity costs golds. Factors—or shipwrights—don’t want to pay for capacity that cannot be used. You don’t want to pay extra guards, or extra cooks if there’s no need for them. So it will always be expensive to build just a few more ships. Yet building an entire shipyard is very costly. Still … if one plans to build fifty ships in ten years, it may well be cheaper to build a shipyard and train your own workforce than to use the existing shipyards.”

  “Can you determine which might be better?”

  Alucar laughed. “I can give you a good estimate … if you can tell me how many ships, of what kind and size, and how soon you want them. It will be better than a guess, and it will still likely cost more than I will calculate … and it will take time even to make that estimate.”

  Then why even make an estimate. Charyn didn’t voice that question.

  He might as well have because Alucar went on. “All estimates on anything are suspect, but they are better than deciding to do something merely because one feels it should be done. If the estimate is done correctly, it will give you more information and a better base for a decision.”

  “I hope to be meeting with Marshal Vaelln on Jeudi. After that, we will talk again about building ships. Is there anything else I should know?”

  “There will likely be floods in the area of the barge piers on West River Road this spring, unless the river walls there are raised. They will be worse than the floods last year.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Your predecessor chose not to have the river walls repaired and raised.”

  “Because there were not enough golds in the treasury?”

  “He did not tell me. The river does not trouble itself with whether there are golds or not. If the walls are high enough and strong enough, it does not flood. If they are not, it does.”

  “I will keep that in mind.” Charyn paused. “Isn’t there a proposal on … my desk?”

  “There is. Minister Aevidyr submitted it some time ago.”

  “I’ll have to look at it in more depth. Thank you.”

  After he left Alucar, he made his way to find Malyna, who was in the music room, watching as Palenya instructed Aloryana. Charyn didn’t even have to motion to Malyna, who quietly walked to join him.

  Charyn guided Malyna outside the music room into the empty corridor, then said, keeping his voice low, “What time would be best to arrive at the Collegium?”

  “I don’t think anyone expects you to meet their convenience, sir.”

  “Perhaps not, but I’d prefer Aloryana’s arrival to be less inconvenient, rather than more.”

  “A quint before noon would be best, I think. That way, Alyna won’t have to cancel instructionals, and the
Maitre should also be free.”

  “Can we drive the coach directly to the Maitre’s dwelling?”

  “You can. That was what the Maitre suggested. Would you prefer a Collegium coach?”

  “I thought we’d take the plain coach from here, but have your imagers wear grays instead of Chateau Guard uniforms. They can use mounts from the stable. We’ll take an extra guard, but they’ll wear brown coats and ride the rear of the coach to Imagisle.”

  Malyna nodded.

  “Can you make the necessary arrangements with your imagers and arrange it so that they won’t tell anyone?”

  “I can do that.”

  “Will you also tell Aloryana and my mother the arrangements?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you. I do appreciate it.” Charyn offered a warm and thankful smile. At least, he hoped it was. Then he headed back to the upper level of the chateau.

  A nervous-looking Churwyl was waiting outside the study when Charyn returned and motioned for the guard captain to enter before him. Charyn walked to the desk and turned, but did not seat himself.

  “What did you find out from Factor Goerynd?”

  “Ah…”

  “What is it?”

  “Young Factor Goerdyl took over his father’s factorage at the beginning of Finitas, upon the death of his father. He has no knowledge of either Bolomyrt or Chastant.”

  “Did they work for him at all?”

  “He does not know. Apparently, the elder Goerynd engaged in … other activities…”

  “Such as?”

  “No one will say. There are rumors…”

  “What sort of rumors?” Charyn tried to keep his voice level, despite his exasperation.

  “He might have been involved with the assassins’ guild.”

  “So … you took the word of someone who had been hired as an assassin?”

  “No, sir. I took the word of the commander of the Civic Patrol. That seemed a good reference to me.”

  Charyn did not say anything for several moments. “I can see that it might seem that way. From now on, I’d like to know more about new guards. And try and find out more from the young Factor Goerdyl.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There’s one other thing, Guard Captain.” Charyn lifted the sealed message from the desk. “Please have this delivered to Marshal Vaelln.”