Outcasts of Order

by L. E. Modesitt Jr

  Once Beltur and Jessyla were alone in their chambers, she turned and said, “As far as I could tell, they never lied or avoided answering—except about what the Duchess will say or offer. That frightens me, just a little.”

  “I worry about just how much she might want. And what the price is … and whether it’s wise to accept.”

  “We won’t know until she makes an offer.” Jessyla paused. “But there are some things that come to mind. Most people here seem to smile. Korsaen rode into Montgren with just two guards, and neither was a mage. His gates are open. The factor knew who he was and said that his word was good. Has it been anything like that anywhere else we’ve been?”

  Beltur smiled wryly. “Those are good points.” But are they enough?

  XCIX

  At breakfast on sevenday, Korsaen told everyone that they would be meeting with the Duchess at the first glass of the afternoon, that the farrier would arrive by eighth glass, and that they would have clean laundry by the end of the day, and if they wanted what they wore washed as well, to set it out after dinner that evening.

  After breakfast, Beltur checked all the horses, and the mule, again, and waited for the farrier to arrive. When the man did, Beltur escorted him to meet Slowpoke.

  “This isn’t necessary, ser mage.”

  Beltur smiled. “It is. I feared that one of his shoes might break, and I eased some extra order into binding his hoof and shoe, and I need to remove that … and explain how he got this far with the shoe in the shape it was.”

  The farrier took one look and said, “I see. He would have thrown that shoe.”

  “I know. That’s why you’re here.”

  Then Beltur went back to find Taelya, whom Tulya was getting ready to spend the day with Korwaen and Maenya.

  He found them in the hallway. “I need a moment to talk to Taelya.”

  “Yes, Uncle Beltur?”

  “Taelya,” said Beltur, “you’ll be spending time with Korwaen and Maenya. Korwaen is a boy, and boys don’t always know their own strength. He’s also bigger than you. If … if he tries to hit you or hurt you, the only magery you can use is your shield. He may not, but that is the only magery you may use. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Uncle Beltur. If he looks like he wants to hit me, can I use the shield first?”

  “Yes, you may, but you can’t touch him with the shield. You have to let him hit the shield.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Tulya voiced the words “Thank you” without actually speaking them.

  Beltur watched the two as they walked toward the center staircase, hoping Taelya wouldn’t need to use her shield. He still worried. Korwaen was clearly a child of power and privilege, well-mannered as he appeared to be, and he didn’t want the combination of a strong-willed boy and a strong-willed girl who was also a mage to turn out badly.

  At two quints past noon, the six who would meet with the Duchess gathered in the stable.

  “Since the farrier is still working, I thought you could ride some of my horses,” said Korsaen. “That way, they’ll get some exercise, and we won’t get in Ducont’s way.”

  That was fine with Beltur, since Slowpoke and the other mounts could also use the rest.

  Before long, all six were riding south on the lane and then north on the avenue leading to the palace of the Duchess of Montgren. The palace sat on a low hill, with a wall around the base of the hill and a single set of gates—open and guarded by two men in the light blue of Montgren. They inclined their heads as Korsaen rode past, but did not speak.

  The palace proper was little more than twice the size of Korsaen’s mansion, which was imposing, but would have easily fit inside the main courtyard of the palace of the Prefect of Gallos, and the outbuildings were also roughly twice the size of those at Korsaen’s estate.

  “We can just tie the horses at the rails by the main entry,” said Korsaen as he reined up short of the pair of guards. “This shouldn’t take that long, one way or the other. The Duchess isn’t one for indirection or inane small talk.”

  “She’s not one for any sort of inanity,” said Maeyora dryly.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Korsaen,” offered one guard.

  “The same to you, Rhaas.”

  “The Duchess sent word to you that she’d be in the large study.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll go.”

  Once they dismounted and were inside the circular entry hall, Beltur looked to the lord. “How does one address a duchess?”

  “Just call her Duchess until she tells you otherwise,” replied Korsaen with a laugh.

  The palace was older and much darker than Korsaen’s mansion, with wood paneling so dark, partly from age, that its polished surface looked almost black. Their boots echoed on the stone floor as they took the main corridor almost thirty yards before coming to a stop outside a door with a single guard, the first Beltur had seen since they entered the palace.

  “If you’d announce us, Phaltyn.”

  “Yes, ser.” The guard turned, rapped on the door, then opened it slightly and called, “Lord Korsaen and Healer Maeyora with the mages and the healer!”

  “Have them come in. We’re not to be disturbed.”

  * * *

  The white-haired woman who sat behind the wide table desk closed the ledger she had been perusing and set it aside, gesturing to six chairs arranged in an arc. “Sit where you like, except for you, Korsaen. You sit on one end or the other.”

  Beltur and Jessyla found themselves in the middle with Lhadoraak and Tulya to Jessyla’s right, and Maeyora and Korsaen to Beltur’s left.

  The Duchess looked directly at Beltur. “My nephew tells me that you four are looking for a place that’s friendly to you and where you can settle. He also claims that you, Beltur, are the most powerful black he knows of. How true is that?”

  “I have stronger shields and containments than any other black I’ve met. So far I haven’t encountered a white who could break them. If I had, I wouldn’t likely be here.”

  The Duchess looked to Maeyora, who nodded. Then she looked to Lhadoraak. “How strong a black are you, and do you agree with what Beltur said?”

  “I’m moderately strong. I’m nowhere close to as powerful as Beltur. He may be one of the most powerful mages in Candar.”

  Maeyora again nodded.

  “How good a healer are you?” The Duchess studied Jessyla.

  “I’m better than many. I still am not as good as I’d like.”

  “Are you a mage as well?”

  “I have some magely abilities, and I’m getting better. I have moderate shields, and I’m working on containments.”

  “You’re a healer, too, aren’t you?” The Duchess’s pale green eyes fixed on Beltur. “How good?”

  “In the more usual healing, I’m not as good as Jessyla, but I can remove small bits of wound and other chaos, and I can immobilize parts of a wounded person’s body so that another healer can more easily set bones or do surgery.”

  “Do you have any problems with killing people who have killed others and terrorized villagers and other innocents?”

  “If that is indeed the case, Duchess—”

  “It’s very much the case.”

  “If it is,” repeated Beltur, “then I don’t.”

  An amused smile crossed the Duchess’s face. “You’re skeptical of rulers, aren’t you?”

  “Until they prove I shouldn’t be.”

  “How many have you stood up to?”

  “Not as many as I should have.”

  “Such as?”

  “I wasn’t strong enough to stand up to the Prefect of Gallos. So I escaped because my uncle insisted. I stood up to the highest black mages in Spidlar, but never actually faced the Traders’ Council. I stood up to the Council of Axalt.”

  “That will do.” After a slight pause, the Duchess said, “I have a problem, actually two. So do you. You’re a powerful black, but the nature of your power doesn’t lend itself to conquest, whi
ch means you don’t fit in lands such as Certis, Gallos, Lydiar, or Hydlen. You’re male, which rules out Westwind or Sarronnyn. You have some degree of ethics, and that makes you a danger to most rulers or councils in lands such as Spidlar, Sligo, Suthya, or Axalt. My larger problem is that Montgren lies between Certis, Lydiar, and a tiny piece of Hydlen, and is not wealthy enough to support a large force of armsmen. That is not a problem either of us can resolve immediately. But I also have a smaller problem that the four of you could resolve. There is a town in the south of Montgren that lies on the trading route to Hydolar, which is also sometimes used by traders who wish to go to Jellico but who find Weevett, shall I say, too confining. Those traders are slowly destroying Haven. The town council no longer exists because no councilor would stand up to these renegade traders. Tariffs have not been collected in two seasons. I debated sending in a company of armsmen, but merely sending armsmen would be pointless. The remaining townspeople have no coins to speak of, and the traders will simply leave and not return until the armsmen leave before resuming their activities. If I create a fort there and permanently station armsmen at that post, I risk conflicts with Hydlen, Certis, or Lydiar, depending on whose traders bribe their rulers the most.”

  “I can see your problems,” replied Beltur carefully, “but you are far more familiar with the situation than we are. With what you’ve said, I’m not certain how we might resolve this problem, since you’ve said that using force—”

  “I didn’t say that I could not use force. I said that I could not use armsmen by themselves, and the remaining townspeople neither have the will nor the ability to improve matters. If the Council of Haven, through its own abilities, resolves the situation in Haven without resort to a permanent use of armsmen by Montgren, neither the Viscount nor the dukes of Hydlen or Lydiar will be able to use their armsmen without risking involvement by the others.”

  “That makes sense,” replied Beltur, “but exactly what role would we play?”

  “It’s very simple. I think you know generally what I’m going to say, but I don’t blame you for wanting me to spell it out.”

  Beltur was afraid he might know what she was going to propose.

  “Since the Council of Haven no longer exists, the town charter is void. I will issue a new charter naming the four of you as the Council of Haven with all powers and duties necessary to maintain a free town. You will appoint at least one and no more than three other councilors, from those resident in Haven after you have reestablished order. You will have full authority from me to do whatever is necessary to reestablish Haven.”

  “Even if you grant us such a formal charter,” Beltur pointed out, “who will believe us if we ride in and announce it?”

  “You’d have trouble that way,” admitted the Duchess. “That’s why you’ll be escorted by a full company of my armsmen. They’ll stay for an eightday, longer if necessary. I’ll also provide fifty golds to each family to purchase or build lodgings, and a hundred golds for expenses for the first year.” She smiled coolly. “If you’re the Council, the Council can’t run you out. Of course, that does mean you have to run Haven well enough that the people are satisfied and that the traders who pass through behave.”

  “There’s one other small problem,” Beltur said. “That’s the question of how we make a living. Jessyla and I got by in Axalt by working as healers. I doubt Haven even has a healing house. Lhadoraak inspected flatboats and other boats and detected those who tried to evade tariffs. You don’t levy tariffs, I understand.”

  “I’ll pay you for the first year. That should enable you to put the Council on a sound basis. Once it is, you can pay yourselves a modest stipend as councilors. While we don’t tariff goods passing through Montgren, every shop, crafter, inn, or public house pays a tariff each season. For small crafters, that may be as little as a copper a season. A fourth part of those tariffs come to the palace. Most of them are used to repair or build roads and bridges or to pay armsmen. If you choose to become the Council of Haven, Korsaen will supply you with a copy of the rules and procedures.”

  “What’s to keep you from pushing us out once we get things in order?” asked Lhadoraak, his tone skeptical.

  “Two things. First, it wouldn’t be in my interest in the slightest. We haven’t received tariff payments from Haven in almost a year. Second, do you really think I’d risk sending armsmen against two mages like you and Beltur?”

  “How much pay for the first year?” asked Jessyla.

  “What do you think is fair?” countered the Duchess.

  Jessyla looked to Beltur, who leaned over and murmured, “You got a silver an eightday in Elparta and would have gotten that in Axalt by now. Five for the two of us?”

  She nodded, then said, “Five silvers an eightday for each couple.”

  “That’s more than fair.” The Duchess smiled. “If tariffs are back to where they were in a year, or even close, I’ll give each couple an additional twenty-five golds as a reward. That’s if you decide to take on the task, but it won’t be easy. I’ll also include in the charter a provision that so long as the tariff payments to the duchy are made, Haven shall be open to all mages of good character.”

  “Black and white?” asked Lhadoraak.

  “Black and white,” affirmed the Duchess.

  There was a silence of several moments before the Duchess asked, “Do you have any more questions?”

  “What about the laws of Montgren?” asked Beltur. “If we decide to do this, is our council responsible for enforcing and carrying out the laws? Can we make any additional town laws? Can you override us?”

  “I don’t foresee that as a problem,” replied the Duchess. “You’ll also get a copy of the existing laws. How you enforce them is up to you. My interest is restoring Haven. It’s to your interest as well.”

  In short, enforce the laws, but don’t be idiots.

  Beltur turned toward Lhadoraak. “This could be as bad as the invasion, in a less brutal way, and it’s going to take longer. But it’s likely the only chance we’ll get with a duchess behind us. What do you think?” Beltur offered a wry smile. “I take that back. Don’t think. What do you both feel? Deep inside?”

  “Scared,” blurted Tulya.

  “I don’t see any better choices anywhere,” said Lhadoraak.

  “I’ve seen much worse choices.” Jessyla’s words were sharp. “We’re doing it.”

  “That sounds like someone else I know,” said Korsaen quietly, with a look at Maeyora.

  Beltur looked to Lhadoraak.

  “I have to agree with Jessyla.”

  Beltur looked to the Duchess. “Then we’re agreed.”

  “No further caveats?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “If there are problems we haven’t foreseen, it’s to both our interests to work them out.”

  The Duchess nodded. “Then it’s settled. It will take a few days to gather everything together. Since tomorrow is eightday, you won’t be able to leave until threeday morning. You’ll be working with Korsaen on the details.” Her eyes went to her nephew.

  Korsaen stood. “Since we’re finished here…” He gestured toward the door.

  Beltur noticed that the Duchess was already reaching for the ledger she had put aside.

  Once they were all outside the study, he said quietly to Korsaen, “She’s very direct.”

  “She always has been.”

  “I take it that Haven has become a smugglers’ den with no law and less order and that all the people who could flee already did so.”

  “Many of them, but not all.”

  No one spoke as they left the palace and mounted up, then headed south out of the palace grounds and onto the avenue leading into Vergren, before turning onto the lane.

  “Beltur,” said Jessyla, “can we really do this?”

  “We can.” The real question is what it will cost whom. “We’ve been in five countries. I don’t see a better opportunity. Do you?”

  “No. That’s part of what worries
me.”

  “It worries me, too. But we’ve seen what works and what doesn’t, and now it’s our turn.” Beltur couldn’t help but wonder if Relyn had felt that way when he reached Axalt.

  C

  After returning to Korsaen’s estate, Beltur suggested, after asking the lord, that the “council” of Haven meet in Korsaen’s parlor to talk over matters, largely because he wanted to hear any and all concerns that Lhadoraak and Tulya might have.

  Once everyone was seated, Beltur just said, “What are your thoughts, good, bad, and otherwise?”

  “Do we really want to do this?” asked Lhadoraak.

  “If we want the chance to be in control of our own lives, is there any alternative?” countered Beltur.

  “Are you sure there isn’t?” asked Tulya.

  “In every place else we’ve been, whoever rules controls mages,” Beltur replied. “If we want to always answer to others, there are alternatives. If we want more control over our lives, I don’t see another alternative.”

  “We could be attacked by any one of three lands,” said Lhadoraak.

  “That’s why Haven’s still a part of Montgren, I suspect,” replied Beltur. “None of those three want another to have it. What the Duchess didn’t say was that our job will be to keep the town and the road open to all traders without favoring any.”

  “I don’t like the idea of collecting tariffs,” added Tulya.

  “Do you have a better idea?” asked Jessyla.

  “No.”

  “We’ll have to look at how tariffs are charged,” said Beltur. “Remember, Montgren doesn’t tariff goods entering or leaving. They have to get silvers somehow.”

  “She wants arms-mages without paying for them,” said Tulya.

  “She’s agreed to pay twice what we got in Spidlar,” said Lhadoraak. “We only have to deal with townspeople and traders.”

  “That will likely be more frustrating, but not as dangerous,” said Beltur. At least most of the time. “We also get golds for housing.”

  “Why us?” asked Tulya. “Aren’t there other mages…”

  “Where?” asked Beltur dryly. “Any mages in Gallos belong to the Prefect, or they’re dead. The same seems to be true in Certis. None of the blacks in Spidlar would be interested, and I’d wager what few mages there are in Montgren are already being used at the border posts. The Duchess isn’t quite desperate, but she doesn’t have any other real choices, either, and she’s paying well.”