By two quints before ninth glass, Charyn had all the threat letters, except one, which was inside his jacket, in the leather folder on his desk, beside which was the pouch containing the golds and the two silvers. There was also the stick of black wax, wrapped in cloth, in his jacket pocket.
“Howal … when Marshal Vaelln arrives, I’d like you to repair to the music room and await the High Holders there.”
“Yes, sir. Will you be—”
“I would hope so. Moencriff will be joining Sturdyn outside the study just before noon, and there will be extra guards at the front entrance to the chateau. Then, once you escort the factors in, I’d like you to step back to the corner there and conceal yourself when no one is looking. Can you remain concealed while the councils meet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No matter what happens, unless my life is threatened, please remain concealed.”
The imager nodded.
At two quints before noon, Sturdyn announced, “Marshal Vaelln,” then opened the study door.
Charyn immediately stood, as did Howal, who quietly moved to the door and then departed.
Vaelln strode briskly into the study, stopping short of the desk. “Your Grace, I am here with the squad of troopers you requested. They are in the rear courtyard. I thought that positioning might be best.”
“It will be, for now. Once all the councilors have arrived, I would suggest half of them move to the area around the front entry. I would also like your men to make certain no one leaves except by your permission.”
“Your Grace?”
“I can see you would like to know why I made the order? I did order it, Marshal, although you are kind to suggest it was a request.” Charyn gestured to the chairs before the desk and seated himself. “The reason is simple. I have some evidence to present to the councils, after you report on the status of naval evolutions in dealing with the Jariolans. That evidence might well reveal who is behind the assassination of my father and the attempts on my life. It may be necessary to take someone into custody, and since treason is a crime against not only the rex, but all Solidar, I believe that custodial duty lies in your purview.”
“The evidence may reveal.” Vaelln sat forward in the middle chair.
“I have reason to believe that revealing that evidence will result in uncovering more evidence. If not, I may have subjected your men to a long and cold ride for nothing. Your presence is necessary in any event, because the councils will trust your words far more than mine in naval matters.”
Vaelln nodded slowly. “I see.”
Charyn hoped he didn’t see everything, but there was no help for that. “Once you have given the necessary orders to your men, please return here. Maitre Alastar will be here shortly.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As Vaelln stood, so did Charyn, but he did not sit back down at his desk. Instead, he walked to the window so that he could watch some of what Vaelln did, not that he expected any problems. Not yet.
At a quint before noon, Sturdyn announced, “Moencriff has joined me, sir, as ordered.”
“Thank you.”
Before long, Vaelln returned. “My men are briefed and in position, Your Grace.”
Although Charyn had turned from the window at Vaelln’s entrance, he did not seat himself or motion to the chairs. “Thank you. As I mentioned in my letter, you are to describe the situation with regard to the Jariolans. I want you to be as honest and forthright as you can be.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is it your opinion that, if we continue on our present course, we will eventually win and remove the Jariolan threat?”
“Yes. It will take several years, but we have seen no sight of new Jariolan ships of the line during the time that we have commissioned six.”
“If you would make that point, Marshal…”
Vaelln nodded.
Before long, Sturdyn announced, “Maitre Alastar.”
While Charyn had expected the Maitre early, he had not expected him quite so early. “Have him come in.”
“Good day,” offered Alastar, nodding to Charyn and then to Vaelln. “I thought you might be here, Marshal.”
“He’ll be briefing the councils on the situation with the Jariolans. After that, I’ll be presenting some materials dealing with the assassination of my father and the subsequent attacks, including the letters I received in conjunction with those attacks.”
Alastar nodded. “I look forward to seeing those.”
“I thought both you and the marshal should see them and hear other indications as well. It’s taken a great deal of time and effort to gather all of the evidence.”
Vaelln frowned momentarily, but said nothing.
Sturdyn rapped on the door just after the chimes began to ring out the glass. “The members of the councils are all present, Your Grace.”
“As before, Howal will escort the factors, Norstan the High Holders.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Sturdyn.
Charyn carried the chair before the goldenwood desk and closest to the window over to a position next to but not actually at the conference table. “As you suggested the last time, Maitre.” He then moved a second chair and placed it beside the first. “For Marshal Vaelln.” He half-turned. “I’d like you here for the entire meeting.”
Vaelln nodded.
Charyn then took a position standing behind the chair at the head of the table, his back to the north windows as he stood behind the chair. “I’ll be announcing the marshal first, and then I’ll be bringing the council members up to date on all the attacks on the regial family and upon me.” He glanced at the table, where the folder holding the original threat letters lay before his place, with the cloth bag containing the golds and silvers beside the folder.
“You think that is wise?” Alastar’s tone was even.
“I think it would be less wise not to bring up the matter. After all, I do have a few concerns after all the attempts on my life, and there are some facts which you, Marshal Vaelln, and the members of the councils should be aware of. Some you already know. Some you do not.”
Within a few moments, the door to the study opened. As before, Elthyrd led the factors. Thalmyn came next, then Harll, Jhaliost, and Hisario, standing behind their chairs on the left side of the table. After a good tenth of a quint, a delay Charyn suspected had been created by Ryel, the four High Holders appeared, Ryel being the last, but once more he smiled warmly as he nodded to Charyn before standing behind the chair at the far end of the table. He laid a leather folder on the wooden surface. Charyn refrained from nodding. That would help. The other three High Holders took exactly the same positions they had at the last meeting, with Basalyt closest to Charyn on the right side of the table, Fhaedyrk next, and then Khunthan.
“Welcome to the chateau on this cold Fevier day.” Charyn motioned everyone to seat themselves, then seated himself. “Given the weather, I do appreciate all of you coming. I do have some information for all of you regarding the situation with Jariola, but I think it is better that you all should hear that from Marshal Vaelln himself.”
Vaelln stood and surveyed those at the table, then nodded to Charyn. “Thank you, Rex Charyn. As most of you should have heard, we have had a number of engagements with the Jariolans over the last month. These engagements have made several matters much clearer. For example, in any engagement of warships of the same rate, our forces have prevailed. On three occasions, our ships have defeated and destroyed Jariolan vessels of a higher rating. Thanks to the foresight of Rex Lorien, Rex Charyn, and the councils, our shipbuilding is proceeding well, and we appear to be producing ships more quickly than the Jariolans. If this continues, and I have every reason to believe that it will, within the next year or so, Solidaran ships will begin to control the oceans of Terahnar…”
Vaelln described the reasons for his conclusions for not quite a quint before stopping.
“What about the Ferrans?” asked Hisario immediately.
“In the last two months, they h
ave avoided becoming involved, and there are no reports of their warships aiding the Jariolans or attacking our warships or merchant ships. As we become stronger, they are even less likely to be considered an enemy.”
“Will you be forming another flotilla to protect Solidaran ships trading with the lands of Otelyrn?” asked Khunthan.
“That is our plan. We believe we can have another flotilla on station there in late Maris…”
The questions only lasted half a quint, at which time Vaelln turned to Charyn.
“If you would remain, Marshal,” said Charyn. “You also should hear what I have to say, because it impinges on your duty and responsibilities.” He squared himself in his chair. “As all of you know, my father was assassinated here in the chateau, by traitor guards hired by a traitor guard captain, although that did not become clear until later. Before my father was killed, he received a threatening letter. Since then, I have received five more. Of the six, one was left at the family estate at Tuuryl after silos containing twelve thousand golds’ worth of grain suffered explosions and were burned, and one was left for the regional governor of Telaryn after arsonists burned the ancient palace there. One was left in the pulpit at the Anomen D’Rex when I delivered the memorial for my father. Two were delivered here to the chateau by public messenger, and the last was handed to a chateau guard at his post by a beggar boy who received it from someone so heavily cloaked and muffled that the child could not even tell if the figure was man or woman, only that he received two silvers for carrying the envelope to a guard …
“I have here, with me, these various threatening letters that my father received, and then those that I have received following his assassination. When you examine them you will notice that they all have been written on the same kind of paper, with the same ink, and in the same script. It’s what is called standard merchant hand, and it is used for all merchanting and factoring documents.”
“That means nothing,” declared Hisario. “Standard merchant hand is so alike that it’s practical impossibility to tell who wrote it.”
“I wasn’t casting blame on factors,” replied Charyn as he handed the stack of letters to Elthyrd, the factor sitting closest to him. “I rather admire the man who thought up the idea of using merchant hand. It’s the use of the obvious to conceal his identity. The paper is the kind never used by High Holders, nor by the wealthiest of factors, for their personal correspondence. And the letters all use references that suggest that the writer is a factor or merchant. I’d like each of you to look at each document.”
“What will that accomplish?” demanded Khunthan.
“Since I’ve been the target of five assassination attempts, don’t you think it would be useful for all of you to see just how clever the man behind this is?”
“He can’t be that clever,” said Ryel, “if you’re still alive after five attempts.”
“He’s been clever enough to leave very little evidence,” replied Charyn. “Please examine the letters.”
Then he waited until everyone at the conference table, as well as Vaelln and Alastar, had seen them. He gathered the letters and replaced them in the leather folder, remaining on his feet.
“Then there is the matter of the golds, and the two silvers.”
“Golds?” asked Jhaliost. “What—”
“I’m getting there,” replied Charyn. “The imagers posted here at the chateau and I recovered the actual golds paid to the late guard captain Churwyl and to a guard named Cauthyrn. I’ve kept the golds in the same bag in which Churwyl received his fee for killing me. I’d like you all to notice that all the golds are fresh-minted, and that they all bear the same mint mark. Interestingly enough, the silvers also bear the same mint mark.”
“That is supposed to prove something?” asked Basalyt. “Mint marks?”
Charyn noticed that Elthyrd had nodded slightly, as had Hisario, and even Fhaedyrk.
“I’d just like you all to verify that the golds and silvers are fresh-minted and from the same mint. Then we’ll proceed.”
Once again, Charyn waited until the golds and silvers were back in his hands, and he replaced them in the pouch, which he set beside his folder. He could feel the letter inside his jacket as he began to speak again from where he stood beside his chair. “The man behind all these letters wanted me to believe that a factor or several factors were behind the assassination of my father and the attempts against me. Two were designed to fail, the first one, where it appeared my brother was the target, and a later one here at the chateau when someone fired at me when I was outside in the rear courtyard. The idea behind these efforts was twofold—either to be effective in eliminating much if not all of the regial family or to provoke me into taking direct and severe action against the factors of Solidar.”
“That seems rather extreme, and also based on very little evidence.” Ryel’s voice was almost genial.
“That depends on what one calls evidence,” replied Charyn, his tone cheerful. “It might be considered a form of evidence that every story in the newssheets has stated that the individuals most upset by the loss of ships were factors. Yet three of the largest fleets of merchant ships are owned largely or in part by High Holders.”
“Oh … and who might those be?” asked Hisario.
“The Diamond ships of High Holder Ghasphar, Khellan Trading, owned in part by High Holder Khunthan, and Solisan Traders, owned by High Holder Ryel.”
“Owning ships is a crime, now?” asked Ryel.
“By itself, no. It’s just part of a larger pattern. I’ll get to that. Let’s get back to the attempted assassinations. The last attempt, which took place exactly a week ago, happened when a uniformed army courier threw an explosive courier pouch at me when supposedly delivering a message from Marshal Vaelln. Whoever planned it knew that couriers from Vaelln were allowed into the study, and that fact was not known to someone unfamiliar to the chateau. That effectively rules out almost all factors. That means that the man behind this had to be very familiar with the chateau, and its operations. Then, less than a glass later, an urchin delivered another threatening and warning letter, identically written. The other thing is that the boy who delivered the message was paid in silver. Two silvers, as I mentioned, the same two silvers that are in that pouch. The idea behind that, I’m sure, was to make the point that the man seeking my death would pay any price to anyone. But … I find it hard to believe that a factor would overpay an urchin by such a huge amount.” Charyn inclined his head to Elthyrd: “Begging your pardon, Factors.”
Elthyrd smiled dryly.
“Whoever it was, as you just said,” offered Ryel, “was making a point.”
“He was. But he wasn’t making it the way a factor would. Then there are all those golds and those silvers. They were paid in connection with all the assassination attempts, and they all came from the same mint in Asseroiles. Most likely, again, because it is the closest mint to the man behind this. Also, golds and silvers change hands quickly among factors. Factor Elthyrd, just how likely is it that any factor would count out ten golds and come up with ten newly minted pieces with the same mint mark? Or that the two silvers paid an urchin also had that mint mark?”
“Extremely unlikely,” Elthyrd admitted.
This time Thalmyn nodded.
“This is preposterous,” said Ryel, his voice still well-modulated. “It’s all speculation.”
“Not exactly,” replied Charyn. “It’s a significant collection of indications of who the guilty man has to be. You forget one thing. Factors are governed far more by profit than rage. When the attempts continued with less and less success, any rational factor would have cut his losses.”
“You have the nerve to suggest that a High Holder is behind these deplorable acts?” Ryel snorted dismissively.
“Oh … I can do more than that.” Charyn strode down the side of the table, reached out and seized Ryel’s leather folder, and, as he did, slipped the letter he had been carrying under the folder, so that when he opened
the folder, the letter dropped to the table with several other sheets of paper.
“That!” snapped Charyn, “is exactly what I thought. All of you notice. That looks exactly like every other one of those threatening letters received by the regial family.”
Ryel’s mouth dropped open. “You—”
“I did nothing. I merely uncovered what you have had in mind all along. You have been plotting not for months, but for years.” Charyn snatched up the sealed letter and walked back to the head of the table, where he handed it to Elthyrd. “I’d like you to open it, but leave the seal untouched.”
Elthyrd held the letter, his eyebrows raised. “You think it matches?”
“It looks to be identical, as does the paper, but until we put them side by side, we won’t know.”
“This is absurd!” Ryel started to stand.
“Sit down!” snapped Charyn, remaining standing.
Ryel opened his mouth, but did not speak as Alastar stood.
“I suggest you reseat yourself,” the Maitre said. “That would be the wisest course.” His voice was cold.
Ryel glanced from Alastar to Charyn and back again. “Really … will this charade accomplish anything?”
Charyn waited, thinking Alastar might speak.
The Maitre did, in fact. “It is most likely to make many things that have remained hidden far more clear than you would wish.”
Ryel sank into his chair, and the other three High Holders exchanged quick glances.
Elthyrd produced a belt knife and slit the side of the envelope, then eased out the single sheet of paper and unfolded it. He read it silently, with Charyn looking down over his shoulder.
The words were clear to Charyn.
You have been warned for the last time. If you fail to act more decisively than the preceding rex, you won’t be ruler of Solidar nearly so long as your immediate predecessor.
Elthyrd glanced up, turning his head toward Charyn.
“The others should see it, all of those besides Ryel. He can see it last. Leave the envelope here.”
Elthyrd passed the letter to Thalmyn, who read it in turn, followed by the other three factors on that side of the table, and then by the three High Holders on the other side. After Basalyt had read the letter, Charyn took it from the High Holder and carried it back to the foot of the table where Ryel sat. He placed the letter on the wood, but only straightened slightly.
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