Ordermaster

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Yes, your lordship.” Kharl was very glad that he had thought over carefully what Guillam might say.

  Ghrant nodded at Kharl.

  Kharl stepped forward a pace. “Chief factor, you are a man who knows a great deal and a great number of people in Austra. Because you do know so many, you might be most helpful. This morning, there was a poisoned tray offered to a guest at the Great House. Before she could be questioned, the server who offered it was found strangled. Did you have any knowledge of this?”

  “No, ser mage. Why would I have any knowledge of something that sordid?” Contempt oozed from Guillam, along with a sense of chaos, not the chaos of magic, but the sort of chaos that Kharl was coming to associate with evil. While Guillam seemed to be looking at Kharl, his eyes avoided those of the mage. He was also lying.

  “What is your relationship with a man named Fostak?” After a slight pause, Kharl added, “Or what was it?”

  For the slightest moment, Guillam did not move, a moment almost imperceptible. “I have no relationship with anyone called Fostak. I never have.”

  Another lie. Kharl was beginning to feel that he was making the chief factor uncomfortable, but that might have been because of the questions.

  “This morning, three crossbowmen fired quarrels within the Great House. While no one was hurt, this sort of matter could be considered to reflect poorly upon Lord Ghrant, and your knowledge could be most helpful in resolving this. Have you any knowledge of this?”

  “Crossbowmen in the Great House? Hardly.”

  That was also a lie, if not so pronounced as the other two. Kharl could see that there was no way to get Guillam to admit his guilt, and if he could not, Lord Ghrant would not be terribly pleased with Kharl. That didn’t bother Kharl so much as the fact that Guillam was not only a liar, but someone who had ordered two murders and was and would be a traitor.

  “Ser mage?” asked Ghrant, a slight hint of irritation in his voice.

  “One more question, if you please, your lordship.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Kharl forced a hard smile. “Chief Factor, why have you lied in answering every question you have been asked? Have your misdeeds been so great that honest answers would have condemned you to execution for treason and treachery?”

  Kharl could hear the indrawn breaths from some standing below the dais.

  “I have answered most truthfully, ser mage. Surely, you of all people must know that.”

  “I know that you will choke on your treachery, your lies, and that your smooth tongue will not save you from the poison within you. Speak the truth or be suffocated by it.” With his last words, Kharl turned the air around Guillam solid, so solid that the factor stood immobile, unmoving.

  Silence filled the chamber. Kharl could feel Guillam struggling, unmoving as he was. The chief factor’s face slowly turned red, then redder, then blue. Only when Kharl could feel the emptiness of death did he dissolve the barriers.

  Guillam toppled forward, hitting the floor with a sickening dull thud. He did not move. Kharl knew he never would.

  The stillness in the chamber stretched out.

  “What. .. what did you do, ser mage?” Ghrant’s voice was thin.

  “I did nothing out of the ordinary,” Kharl said. “I merely commanded him to speak the truth or to choke on his untruths. He could not bear to speak the truth. He died, rather than speak the truth.” Kharl had to struggle to keep his voice steady. His entire body seemed ready to shake, and his knees felt watery. He’d forgotten how much effort magery of that sort took, and he’d done almost none since the battle at Dykaru- four eightdays earlier.

  Ghrant turned slightly, his eyes fixing on a darker-skinned individual in crimson-andgold silks, standing in the group of envoys on the south side of the audience. “Lord Joharak ... apparently, there are times when the truth must out-if one is to live.”

  “So it might seem, your lordship. Yet one man’s truth is another’s traitor. All rulers who have succeeded have come to understand that.”

  “That is most true, Lord Joharak, and the truth that must be in Austra is that which serves Austra.” Ghrant stood. “Chamberlain ...” He gave the slightest nod to the body sprawled at the foot of the steps from the dais. “The audience is over.” Ghrant turned and departed.

  The moment Ghrant vanished into the one archway, Hagen turned. “This way,” he murmured.

  Kharl followed.

  Hagen said nothing until the two were alone in the lord-chancellor’s chamber. “Do I wish to know what you did to Guillam?”

  “Every word he spoke was a lie,” Kharl replied. “He had no intention of being loyal. He knew Fostak and knew him well. He had also ordered my death and the serving girl’s.”

  “You realize that you have now become a danger to most of the lords and merchants?” asked Hagen dryly. “They have all lied to Lord Ghrant, in more ways than one. I imagine that many of them will have urgent reasons to leave Valmurl before tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure Lyras could do what I did.”

  “He probably could tell who was lying, but he couldn’t do what you did about it, and he has no magery capable of protecting himself. You will have to be most careful in the days ahead.”

  “It might be best if I returned to Cantyl, at least for a time,” Kharl suggested.

  “Not quite yet. We will have to act quickly.”

  Kharl raised his eyebrows.

  “There will be more than one attempt to kill Ghrant within days, if not sooner, or a revolt in his personal guard, or one by the regular guard. Perhaps all three.” Hagen shook his head. “Because I can tell if someone is lying?”

  Hagen nodded slowly.

  Kharl had thought he was resolving Ghrant’s problem with Guillam, as well as getting rid of a man who had tried to kill him twice-and now Hagen was telling him that he’d made the situation worse. “I’m sorry. I’d thought-“

  Hagen raised his hand. “Don’t worry about it. There would have been problems either way. If Guillam had walked out of the audience hall, everyone would be claiming that Ghrant was afraid to act. If Ghrant had ordered his execution, without any proof, then

  there might well have been something else.”

  “You make it sound like ruling fairly is impossible.”

  “It is. Everyone has a different idea of what fairness is.” Hagen walked to the bellpull and gave it three measured tugs. “We’ll start with Vatoran, Casolan, and Norgen. You know Vatoran. Casolan is the commander of the western district, and Norgen commands Ghrant’s personal guards.” Hagen looked mildly at Kharl. “This time, just let me know if someone is lying.” “While they’re here, or after they leave?”

  “While they’re here. We don’t have time for indirection. I take it that you can immobilize or kill one of them if he turns violent?”

  “I can, but if you want me to do much, I’ll need to eat something. Bread or cheese, but something.”

  “I’ll have some brought. Then we’ll see how much treachery we can sniff out.”

  Kharl managed not to shake his head. He just swallowed. He’d never even considered that the truth would have such far-reaching and dangerous consequences-or so quickly.

  IV

  Almost half a glass had passed before the three commanders stood in Hagen’s small chamber. Kharl had choked down some bread and cheese, and a mug of ale, enough food that he was no longer feeling weakened.

  Vatoran stood in the middle, a gray-haired officer with a broad forehead, pointed chin, and perfect mustache. Casolan, to Vatoran’s right, was short and blocky, square-faced. Both Vatoran and Casolan wore the green-and-black uniforms, while on the left stood Norgen, a slender man in black and yellow, whose once-red hair had faded to strawberry and whose freckles had faded into pale splotches on a face that had seen too much sun.

  While Hagen stood behind the desk, Kharl was to the side, his back to the north wall.

  “Commander Vatoran,” Hagen began, “you were at the audience earlier this
afternoon. What did you think of the chief factor’s attitude toward Lord Ghrant?”

  Vatoran squinted slightly. Clearly, the question puzzled the officer, Kharl felt.

  After a moment, Vatoran replied. “His words were polite. They were not truthful, but they have never been. He was never that truthful to Lord Estloch.” The commander coughed, several times, then stepped back, trying to clear his throat. When he finally straightened up, he was to the left of Norgen.

  Kharl could sense the falsity of the cough, but why had Vatoran moved to one side? There was a hint of chaos around the commander, but Kharl had found that many people occasionally showed such hints. While he did not know why, he had surmised that occurred because they had been near a source of chaos. “What was your impression of the chief factor, Commander Norgen?”

  “Guillam was always well-spoken, ser. He chose his words with care. His own interests were always more important to him than the interests of Austra, but I have found that to be true of most factors and merchants.” “Were you surprised to find that he was plotting against Lord Ghrant andserKharl?”

  “No, ser. He is the sort that believes he is superior to others. He believes that, even if they know he opposes them, they will not dare to act against him.”

  “You are charged with the safety of Lord Ghrant, Commander Norgen. One of your more trusted armsmen was suborned and tried to murder his consort and heirs. The performance of a number of your companies and their officers has left something to be desired. Under these conditions, I have to ask two questions. First, are you willing to do what is necessary to improve the personal guard? Second, are you personally completely loyal to Lord Ghrant?”

  Norgen smiled ironically. “If I were not loyal to the Lord of Austra, I would not be in this room. It is clear that ser Kharl can tell falsehoods more quickly than they can be uttered. Because I understand this, I will tell the truth as I see it. I am loyal to the Lord of Austra, and I will do all that I can to improve the personal guard. I am greatly concerned that Lord Ghrant is not the leader that his sire was, but I always felt that Ilteron would have plunged Austra into chaos and that we would have ended as either a Hamorian pawn or part of their empire. Any other leader would not have the support of all those necessary to rule effectively. Lord Ghrant, unless he is most careful, and unless he heeds your advice, may still have great difficulty.”

  Kharl could sense the truth of Norgen’s words, even to the fact that Norgen did not particularly care for Ghrant, but would be loyal.

  Norgen looked to Kharl, not to Hagen. Then Hagen nodded at Kharl.

  “Commander Norgen is bound by his duty, and will be loyal, even though he does not have the deepest of affection for Lord Ghrant.”

  Vatoran shifted his weight from one boot to the other, and his lips tightened.

  Hagen turned to Casolan. “The Western Division armsmen and lancers had the best performance in dealing with Ilteron’s forces, but they were not as good as they should have been.”

  “No, ser. I have already removed three captains, and one overcaptain, and we have stepped up training for all companies.”

  “I know,” Hagen said dryly. “The Lords Fergyn, Kenslan, and Sterolan have already complained that there was no reason to dismiss their sons. I’ve suggested, politely, that there was reason, and that the lords and their sons might well not wish those reasons to become public. They agreed, reluctantly.” The lord-chancellor paused, then asked, “How do you see your duty to Lord Ghrant, commander?”

  “Guess I’m like Norgen. Lord Ghrant’s got a lot to learn, and he didn’t want to learn it until circumstances forced him. Ilteron was the worst of a bad lot, and I can’t thank the mage enough for putting an end to that problem. I’m loyal to the Lord of Austra. I just hope he’s worth that loyalty.”

  Along with truthfulness, Casolan conveyed a rock-hard solidity. On the far side of the other two commanders, Vatoran shifted his weight once more, almost imperceptibly, his eyes avoiding Kharl.

  “Ser mage?” asked Hagen.

  “Commander Casolan has stated his feelings most truthfully, ser.”

  “I would expect no less from a distinguished officer.” Hagen smiled. “Ser Kharl... do you have any questions for Commander Vatoran?”

  Kharl thought he understood what was coming. “Commander Vatoran, the last time we met, I had told you about the officers who were eating a lavish meal in Dykaru when a battle was about to begin. I also told you about the officer who had given poor direction to the driver of a wagon carrying wounded. Could you tell me what you did about those incidents?”

  Vatoran looked at Kharl, coldly, then at Hagen. “You are allowing this ... mage ... to question my command?”

  “Can you suggest anyone more honest, and more interested in the truth, commander?” replied Hagen.

  Kharl could sense the faintest hint of ironic amusement from Casolan, but he kept his eyes and senses upon Vatoran.

  “Truth means nothing without understanding,” Vatoran replied.

  “That is very true,” Kharl said. “That is why I asked what you did. You could certainly explain matters to me so that I could understand. What did you do?”

  Vatoran stiffened. “My officers insist that you were mistaken, mage. Honestly mistaken, but mistaken.”

  Vatoran was lying, but Kharl could not understand why, not under the circumstances. “I am confused, commander.” Kharl paused. “The uniforms of Austran officers are very distinctive. I did see those uniforms. Does that mean that someone else was wearing them?”

  “You had to be mistaken.”

  “Did you actually inquire?”

  “Of course.”

  That was a blatant lie. “I see. Would you say that your loyalty is more to your officers, or more to the Lord of Austra?”

  “I must be loyal to both. If my officers do not trust me, then I can do nothing for my lord.”

  Kharl had to think. Vatoran was right about that. “How do you enforce discipline, then, when they have done wrong?”

  “Done wrong? You were mistaken, mage.” Vatoran’s voice was tight.

  Kharl half turned to Hagen, not totally taking his eyes and senses off Vatoran. “I may have been mistaken. I do not think so, not when there were others in Dykaru who also saw those officers and spoke of it. Whether I was mistaken or not, Commander Vatoran is not telling the truth, and he knows that he is not.”

  Vatoran turned to Casolan. “Will you let them do this? Listen to a cooper who has never commanded a single armsman?”

  Casolan smiled sadly. “The mage has been in more battles than you have, Vatoran. He doesn’t lie, either.”

  Vatoran looked to Norgen.

  Norgen shook his head.

  Kharl cleared his throat. “I have one last question. Have you been involved in any of the plots against Lord Ghrant?”

  Vatoran looked from Kharl to Hagen. “I do not have to answer such an insulting question.”

  “Yes, you do,” Hagen said. “If you do not answer, you are admitting guilt.”

  “Ghrant is a weakling. Who would not oppose him?” Vatoran shrugged. “You can imprison me, but you will not hold me.”

  “My guards will,” said Norgen.

  Vatoran looked stunned. “You don’t even like Ghrant.”

  “That has nothing to do with loyalty and duty,” replied Norgen.

  Casolan nodded.

  Hagen moved to the bellpull and tugged it once.

  Vatoran looked at Kharl, except that his eyes darted away from meeting Kharl’s directly. “You will destroy Austra, mage, you and your truth-telling.”

  Kharl said nothing. He well might destroy the Austra that Vatoran represented, but could he do less, after what he had experienced?

  “If that is the Austra you represent, Vatoran, it might as well be destroyed,” Hagen said, “because it will fall to the first gale of winter.”

  At the knock on the door, Hagen ordered, “Enter.”

  Undercaptain Charsal opened the door. Behin
d him were four guards, two in green and black and two in yellow and black.

  “Commander Vatoran is to be held,” Hagen stated. “In the deep cell for now.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Vatoran looked around the small chamber. “None of you will survive this. Not even you, mage. There are always greater mages.” He turned to the undercaptain. “I am in your care, undercaptain. For now.”

  No one in the room spoke until the door closed.

  “He never did like real armsmen,” Casolan said.

  “That may be,” replied Hagen. “But some of his companies may attempt to attack the Great House. He has three nearby. Can you two get companies you trust in place here immediately?”

  “I have one company standing by, ser,” offered Norgen. “I can get another in place within two glasses.”

  “I only have one near here. Most of mine are nearer to Bruel,” said Casolan dryly.

  “You’d best go and form up what you can.” Hagen nodded. “The mage and I need to see what else we can do.”

  “Best start with Lord Kenslan,” suggested Norgen.

  The two bowed and departed.

  Hagen tilted his head, and began speaking, almost to himself. “Both Hedron and Kenslan left the Great House right after the audience. Majer Fuelt is Kenslan’s middle son. He’s a majer in command of three companies under Vatoran.”

  Kharl frowned. “Fuelt? Wasn’t he in that meeting in Dykaru? Was he the one who was contemptuous-“

  “That would be Fuelt. His father is worse.” Kharl looked to Hagen. “I’m sorry. It seems as if-“

  “Don’t be sorry. It would have happened sooner or later. Better now than later. If... if we can weather this storm, it may be for the best.”

  Kharl wasn’t so certain. He recalled what Lyras and Taleas had said to him, how setting forth the truth was a good way to get killed, and to upset everyone. Well, he’d exposed too many truths in the past day. That was

  clear.

  “You look doubtful, Kharl.”

  “I was thinking about the dangers of truth.”

  “It’s a little late for that. I need to brief Lord Ghrant. He won’t be happy, but I think I can convince him that it’s better to face this head-on than to get a knife or a crossbow quarrel in the back in a season or two. You need to get more to eat. We’ll need all the strength you have in the glasses ahead. Go on down to the kitchen. Then come back here. If I’m not here, wait for me.”