Ryel glanced at the letter. “This is a farce.” Then he looked at Charyn.
Charyn shook his head. “I wish it were. I truly do.” And, as he retrieved the letter, he meant those words and what lay behind them. He straightened and turned to Vaelln. “I believe the handling of treachery and assassins falls under your purview, Marshal. You will keep the High Holder under lock and key until he comes before the High Justicer. Before you imprison him, search him carefully.” Charyn shifted his eyes back to Ryel. “Once you are convicted, and you will be, given this evidence, and all those who will testify against you now that your power over them has been removed, your holding will fall forfeit, as it should once you are convicted before a High Justicer.”
Ryel paled. “You would, wouldn’t you?” He stood slowly, deliberately.
“After all you have done … yes. Assassination and murder have their price, too, and you’re going to pay the assassin’s price.” Charyn’s eyes fixed on his uncle, unwavering.
Ryel could only meet that gaze for a moment before looking away. Then he cleared his throat, coughed, and took a kerchief from his pocket, wiping his mouth, and then swallowing. He looked at Charyn. “You are much too clever, Charyn, unlike your father. That will be your downfall.”
Charyn nodded politely. “Cleverness may run in the blood, Uncle, but I learned much of what I have done from watching how you acted.”
Ryel swallowed again as Vaelln stood and walked toward him. Charyn stepped back, his eyes remaining on his uncle as Vaelln gestured toward the study door.
Once Vaelln had escorted Ryel out of the study, where Sturdyn joined the marshal to accompany Ryel down the grand staircase, Charyn turned to the remaining members of both councils.
For a long moment, he said nothing. When he began, his voice was pleasant, but firm. “I am not fond of treachery. I am even less fond of a man, particularly a relative, who uses his wealth and power to blame an entire group of people and who attempts to kill an entire regial family, not to mention those who carried out his orders. No man should be able to do that.” He paused. “Because my uncle is a brilliant and cunning man, it has taken months to gather the evidence to prove his wrongdoing. And now that he is in custody, I have no doubt that more evidence will appear in great measure. Unlike some, I can be patient, when necessary. When required.” He paused again. “This council also needs to be patient. We can surmount the difficulties posed by the Jariolans. What Marshal Vaelln has told you confirms that by holding fast to our course, we will triumph. The question is whether you are dedicated enough to the preservation of Solidar and to more than your own personal interests to join with me holding to that course. I am not asking for great sacrifices. That would serve no one. I am suggesting that supporting this course would be in all our interests.”
Charyn looked at each High Holder, beginning with Basalyt, then Khunthan, followed by Fhaedyrk and then the factors, in turn. Each nodded.
Then he turned to Elthyrd. “This joint council will meet permanently every month, more often if necessary. The factors have asked for a voice. They have it in you. In return, you need to explain to the factors of Solidar the realities of what this council and the rex can do … and what we cannot.”
Looks passed between the factors. After a time, Elthyrd nodded.
Charyn looked back to Fhaedyrk, then Khunthan, and finally Basalyt. Basalyt and Khunthan both looked to Fhaedyrk.
Fhaedyrk smiled, faintly. “You make a very convincing case. Are you also suggesting that the members of this joint council will have a stronger voice in how Solidar is governed?”
“I am. That will require that you all will have to work out common interests.” Charyn turned to Alastar. “Those interests must include those I see as rex and those you see as those of the Collegium.”
Alastar nodded solemnly.
At that moment, there was an urgent pounding on the door, which opened to allow Vaelln to step inside. The marshal’s face was grim.
“Yes, Marshal?” Charyn had a very good idea what Vaelln was about to say.
“Your Grace, High Holder Ryel is dead. He collapsed in the front entry hall in front of a number of soldiers and guards. He apparently took poison shortly before he was leaving the study. It must have been in that handkerchief.”
For several moments, there was silence.
Then Charyn spoke. “Under the circumstances, that is not entirely surprising. I would note that one of the assassins of my father took poison before he could be questioned.”
Fhaedyrk, Khunthan, and Basalyt all exchanged glances.
Khunthan cleared his throat, then said, “None of us were aware of any of this.”
“I believe that,” replied Charyn. “Unhappily, I also have reason to believe that the late High Holder Oskaryn would have learned shortly that Ryel was behind it, and that is why Ryel had him killed.”
“How would Oskaryn—”
“The standard merchant hand. They were partners in Solisan Traders, and Ryel operated the trading in Solis until his father died. He bought out that interest from Oskaryn the younger.” Charyn could see a knowing nod from Hisario, as well as from Fhaedyrk.
“The High Council is somewhat depleted,” Fhaedyrk said quietly.
“Which of you will act as Chief Councilor?” asked Charyn.
Both Basalyt and Khunthan looked to Fhaedyrk, who offered a rueful smile. “It appears I will.”
“Please inform me as soon as you know who the two new councilors will be.”
“We can do that.”
Charyn then looked to Elthyrd. “Are there any other matters…?”
“Nothing that cannot wait until the next meeting. The eighteenth of Maris?”
Charyn nodded. “I will see you all then.”
When the last of the councilors was leaving the study, Charyn said, “You can release the shields, Howal.”
As Howal appeared, Vaelln looked to Charyn questioningly.
“I didn’t know how Ryel might react. That’s why I asked Howal to remain there.”
Vaelln looked to Alastar.
“It wasn’t my idea,” replied the Maitre. “I did notice someone was there, but, if Rex Charyn had a reason for it, and it didn’t hurt anyone, what was the harm?” He turned to Charyn.
“You seemed unsurprised that he took poison.”
“I thought it likely. He knew that a man’s lands can be taken once he is convicted of treason. He also knew that I’d stoop to anything to make certain he was convicted. Once it became clear that there was enough evidence that no one was going to object, or not in public, he realized that he would likely be searched before being physically imprisoned, and that he needed to act. From what I can see, the poison he took was exactly the same as that taken by one of the chateau guards to avoid being questioned. In a way, that’s another sort of proof.”
“But how could you have possibly known that he had it on him?” asked Vaelln.
“Ryel has been prepared for every possibility all along. His agents had poison. He might have thought it unlikely that I’d confront him here, but he had to know it was possible. And he definitely had to know that being convicted of treason would allow me to strip the High Holding. Speaking of which, we need to get to the Chateau D’Council before Lady Ryel discovers what has happened and destroys the evidence there. “
Alastar raised his eyebrows.
“I have reason to believe that Lady Ryel has great knowledge and skill with standard merchant hand. We need to gather that evidence before it vanishes.” Charyn gestured. “If you’d ready your squad, Marshal. Go ahead. We’ll be right behind you. I have a coach in readiness.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once Vaelln had departed, and Charyn and Alastar walked down the north corridor toward the grand staircase, Alastar asked, “How did you know he had that last letter with him?”
“When your imagers and I restructured the entire chateau staff, especially the guards, it was more than likely that he had no way to deliver a me
ssage directly, and with the number of men who died, he was also most likely having trouble finding others to do it.”
“Did he even write that last letter?” Alastar’s voice was even.
“Does it matter?” replied Charyn. “It expressed exactly what he felt and what he intended to do … and continue doing.”
“So it did,” replied Alastar dryly.
67
Almost three quints passed before the plain coach, carrying Charyn and Alastar and escorted by Marshal Vaelln and his squad of armed troopers, approached the iron gates of the Chateau D’Council, guarded by two men in maroon livery. The Council guards took a single look at the army troopers and opened the gates.
When the coach came to a halt at the entry portico, Charyn could see two more armed guards, uniformed in the black and silver of Ryel, flanking the bronzed doors of the main entryway. Both surrendered their weapons immediately.
Only after that did Charyn follow the white-and-silver-haired Alastar from the coach up the steps to the portico and past a footman in black into the circular high-ceilinged entry hall beyond the bronzed double doors, where Vaelln waited with four troopers. In Charyn’s left hand was a small leather kit bag, perhaps optimistically there to hold whatever he found.
“The main study—the receiving study—is to the left,” offered Alastar in a low voice.
At that moment, a woman in shimmering black trousers and a silver jacket came down the steps from the upper level. “What are you doing here, might I ask?” Her voice was every bit as imperious as Charyn remembered.
He stepped forward. “Just investigating high treason, Aunt Doryana.” He gestured. “Restrain Lady Ryel.”
Two troopers dashed up the steps and took Doryana by the arms.
“You can’t do this! This is High Council property.”
“High Holder Ryel was charged with high treason,” Charyn said. “He took poison in plain sight, rather than face the High Justicer.”
For a moment, Doryana was silent. “Lies! All lies!”
“That’s what we’re here to discover.” Charyn looked to Vaelln. “Just keep her here while we search the studies.”
Charyn led the way down the corridor and into the receiving study, an imposing chamber with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the front entry drive and gardens, and floored in black marble, except for the carpeted area on which rested a circular ebony conference table. Five wooden armchairs were positioned around the table. Just out from the south wall was a wide desk with drawers, rather than a table desk, and to one side was an ebony stand holding three file chests.
“Do you really think you’ll find anything?” murmured Alastar.
“It’s more likely we’ll find evidence in her study, but it’s always possible here.”
Charyn opened the top desk drawer. All it held were pens, none with a point broad enough for standard merchant hand, and two bottles of ink, neither of which was the common iron-gall black. The second drawer held stationery in angled slots.
In the end, Charyn found nothing of interest in the desk—except that hidden behind a false panel in one bottom drawer was a small strongbox.
“Can you image away the lock?” asked Charyn.
“Mint marks?” asked Alastar dryly.
“It is a thought,” replied Charyn sardonically.
Moments later, Alastar had the lock in his hands.
Charyn opened the small strongbox, which looked to hold perhaps a hundred golds. He picked up one. It had the curled “L” mint mark. So did the second. In fact, all one hundred and eleven golds did. When he finished, he looked to Alastar. “It’s at least a stronger indication.”
“You may not find much more.”
Alastar was correct in that.
Charyn had been hoping there might be something in the file chests. There was not.
Next came Doryana’s study, back behind the family parlor. The table desk revealed nothing. Neither did the first file chest. The second, however, contained ledgers, as well as a partial sheaf of paper of the type used by the writer of the threats and two bottles of iron-gall ink, one only half full, plus several pens cut in a fashion that looked to match the width of the lettering on the threats. Charyn studied the ledgers, all of which dated back more than ten years. To when Doryana had likely been doing the bookkeeping for Solisan Trading. The lettering was in merchant standard hand and looked to be a perfect match to the threat letters, not that such meant much.
Charyn stepped back from the desk and studied the room, his eyes lighting upon the half bookcase set under the moderately high window. He bent down and began to examine the sides of the bookcase, both somewhat thicker than they needed to be. It took some time, but he managed to open both panels. In one side was a leather pouch with fifty golds, all with Lythoryn’s mint mark, once he’d counted and studied them. In the other was a small cloth bag, and inside that was a blank seal ring with a raised edge, which he had no doubt would match the indentation on all of the black wax seals, as well as two sticks of black sealing wax, one of which was half used.
As he showed them to Alastar, he said, “The seal matches … and the golds.”
“It’s not a lot.”
“It’s enough,” declared Charyn. As much as I need, in any case. He straightened and slipped the items into the small kit bag.
Doryana was still in the main foyer, as if she had any choice. She did not speak, but glared at Charyn.
“I found the blank seal ring that matches the seals on the warning and threat letters.” He smiled pleasantly.
“I know who is behind all of this.” Doryana’s voice was trembling, not with fear, but rage. “You don’t know enough, and you don’t have the intelligence to set up an innocent High Holder. Your mother has made you her puppet. She always hated Ryel. She wanted him dead a long time ago.” Doryana’s eyes fixed on Charyn. “You’re a dumb marionette, dangled by her strings.”
“I was the one who was behind it all,” interjected Charyn firmly. “Ryel was my uncle, but he was behind the High Holder revolt, and he was the one who arranged my father’s assassination. There was uncontestable proof of his wrongdoing…”
“It was all created. Ryel never would have been stupid enough…”
Charyn smiled. Coldly. “Never would have been stupid enough to have proof on him? Your words suggest that he was guilty, but that you and he believed there would never be proof of what he did. And that his power was so great that no one would ever talk. They will now. And your words and belief also constitute another kind of proof.” He paused. “You wrote all of the invoices and bills of lading for Solisan Trading, didn’t you?” Charyn paused, then added, “In perfect standard merchant hand, I trust.”
Doryana’s face hardened. “You are despicable. Both you and your mother. I suppose you’ll destroy the holding, too.”
“That’s up to you,” replied Charyn.
Doryana’s eyes narrowed.
“I already found enough, both in the letter he carried, and in Ryel’s study, to show his guilt, and there was more than enough in yours to prove your part in his schemes. All that shows clearly that the two of you not only masterminded my father’s death, and intended mine, but also Bhayrn’s, which would have resulted in the Chateau D’Rex going to young High Holder Regial, since as an imager, Aloryana could not even be the consort of a rex. Regial is your husband’s nephew, even if that is not widely known, and, most conveniently, just the right age to marry your granddaughter Iryella.”
At that, Lady Ryel smiled. “That’s just speculation.”
“I think not. The proof is there. Ledgers with writing that matches the writing on all the threat notes. Matching ink. The black wax. Also the blank seal ring with the tiny raised section in the corner.” All of that was indeed there, although it would have been, even if Charyn had needed to plant it, although he had doubted that would be necessary in the slightest. “And now that Ryel is dead, the men who did his dirty work under pain of death or worse will talk. Of c
ourse, if you were to name Lady Chelia as guardian for Karyel—he is your oldest grandchild, I believe—in your will, then I suppose I would be forced to spare the High Holding. Otherwise, well, I do have the right to seize lands from High Holders or their heirs or guardians who are proved guilty of treason before the High Justicer. Killing one rex and plotting to kill another, while arranging four attempts on his life, certainly can’t be anything but treason.”
“My will…?”
“Or a letter stating your intent that Chelia should become Karyel’s guardian in the event of your death.” Charyn paused. “In any case, you will be put before the High Justicer and doubtless convicted of treason. With both the High Holder and his lady guilty of treason, and no responsible heir of age, I will have no choice but to take the lands. If you go to trial.”
“You wouldn’t…”
“I wouldn’t, unless I have to. I’m leaving the choice entirely up to you. And I’m being incredibly merciful, considering what you and Ryel have done.”
He turned to Marshal Vaelln. “Have your men escort her to her chambers. Give her a few moments to gather her things. Have your men wait outside her door. Then you can take her into custody. Once imprisoned, she is not to leave the cell until she faces the High Justicer.”
Doryana’s shoulders slumped as she walked to the staircase, followed by two armed troopers, and the marshal.
“How did you know?” asked Alastar blandly.
“There had to be a reason why my mother hated her brother. There had to be a reason why the Maitre of the Collegium offered hints and inferences, but no proof. Also, one of the biggest clues was right in front of me from the beginning, and I never saw it until recently.”
Alastar frowned.
“The golds. Uncle hated dirty coins. When I was a tiny boy, he gave me new-minted shiny golds.” Charyn smiled wryly. “Beyond that, the biggest reason why it had to be a High Holder was that the attacks continued even after all the factors agreed to the slight increase in tariffs. Factors, even the angriest, prefer to win in terms of the countinghouse. I saw that in my times at the exchange.”
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