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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

Treachery's Tools (32 page)

BOOK: Treachery's Tools
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“I'll do what I can, sir.”

Alastar turned to Akoryt. “I don't think the sniping is going to stop. They may not be shooting every day, but we need to keep maitres on duty for now. Who are the ones on duty today?”

“Ah … Maitre Arion will be in the west this morning, followed by Maitre Alyna in the afternoon. Arion has very strong shields. On the East Bridge will be Maitre Shaelyt…”

Alastar hadn't realized Alyna would be on duty immediately, although she had mentioned on Solayi that she would be one of the monitors on Mardi. He listened until Akoryt was through. “Good. There's one other thing. Do you have some thirds with good shields and who can hold at least blurring concealments for a good time?”

“Three or four … maybe one or two others.”

“I'd like them to watch the Chateau D'Council and take notes on every High Holder who visits for the next few days. They'll have to note livery colors, and a number of other details to determine who the High Holders are.”

Akoryt frowned. “Even so…”

“I can help some. Ryel's colors are black and silver. I'll write down that and the others I know in a moment. If High Holders are behind this, it's likely some might actually visit Cransyr. Then, they might not, but at the moment, we don't have much else to go on.”

“I can see that.”

“After we finish here, I'm headed out to see the rex. He might actually be there this morning.”

“I think I'd rather see Factor Cuipryn,” said Cyran dryly.

Alastar and Konan crossed the Bridge of Desires at two quints before eighth glass, later than Alastar would have liked, given the time it had taken him to write the listing on High Holders. As he turned his mount onto the Avenue D'Rex Ryen, he noticed the wall of gray clouds to the northwest.
Three glasses before the rain arrives?
He doubted that he'd be at the Chateau D'Rex anywhere near that long, not given Lorien's apparent desires to avoid meeting with him.

Just before they reached the ring road around the chateau, Alastar turned to Konan. “We'll use blurring concealments from here until we rein up at the chateau.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the third, if raising his eyebrows in question.

“The rex often seems to find other pursuits when his guards inform him that I am on the ring road riding toward the chateau.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alastar kept his smile to himself.

No sooner had Alastar dropped the blurring shield at the chateau entrance than Guard Captain Churwyl immediately appeared hurrying down the stone steps.

“Good morning, Captain,” offered Alastar cheerfully.

“The rex is not expecting you, is he?” asked Churwyl.

“He should be expecting me, although he hasn't requested my presence.”

“Should I announce you?”

“Not until I'm at the door to his study,” replied Alastar as he dismounted and handed the gray's reins to Konan. As if to punctuate Alastar's words, the gelding
whuffed.
From the corner of his eyes, Alastar caught Konan's inadvertent smile.

Churwyl trudged up the steps beside Alastar and then through the entry hall and to the grand staircase.

Surprisingly, at the top stood Chelia, wearing a blue riding jacket and trousers. “You apparently avoided his lookouts, Maitre.”

“I thought there might be a few. I shouldn't be that long. Not long enough to delay your ride by much.”

“He may change his mind about riding … now.”

“He might, indeed,” agreed Alastar. “If you were looking forward to it, I do apologize, but it might be for the best, since it may rain in a few glasses.”

“Don't let me keep you, Maitre.”

Alastar nodded and headed for the north corridor, absently wondering why Chelia had made a point of being there.
To let you know that Lorien was indeed trying to avoid you? Without saying a word about it?
That was certainly possible.

At the door to the study, Alastar turned to the guard captain.

“Maitre Alastar, Your Grace,” announced Churwyl.

Alastar did not wait for Lorien's response but opened the door himself, stepped into the study, and closed the door.

“You might have had the courtesy to request a meeting?”

“So that it could be postponed, delayed, or avoided? No, thank you.” Alastar dropped into the chair across the goldenwood desk from Lorien. “I haven't heard anything about those petitions.”

“I'm still considering them.”

“Don't. Rule against the High Holders in all cases.”

“That's easy enough for you to say.”

“So far I've had three young imagers shot and killed and others wounded. It's almost a certainty that High Holders are behind it. High Holder Laevoryn killed Chief Factor Hulet and claims it was self-defense. Whether you want to admit it or not, the High Holders are beginning a rebellion to void all the limits placed on them by the Codex Legis. They're also obviously trying to weaken or destroy the Collegium. Neither set of actions will benefit you … or Solidar.”

“That may be … but there's no proof of who's doing all this.”

“The High Holder petitions are proof enough. Your own Minister of Justice knows that.”

“Sanafryt doesn't wish to sign an opinion at present.”

“So they've threatened him as well?”

“He just says I should sign the opinion. I'm not an advocate.”

No … just Rex Regis.
“You are the final authority.”

“That may be, but … there are so many ramifications, Maitre. So many … and all lead to differing trials. I'm so tired of no one being happy with anything.”

“The High Holders won't be happy with anything. You give in, and they'll just want more, and before long you'll have a civil war, and then no one will be happy.”

“No one's happy now.”

“Many of the people are happy … or at least content that Solidar is not in turmoil. They're the ones you don't hear from. The ones who complain are those with wealth and power, and they always want more, except tariffs, and there, they always want lower levies.”

“That doesn't lessen the trials.”

Alastar nodded, even though he wanted to squeeze shields around Lorien or dowse him with ice water. He also wondered, not for the first time, how Chelia put up with Lorien. “It doesn't, but you still need to deny those petitions … and fairly soon.”

“I'll do it in my own good time. You want them denied sooner, you take over as rex.”

“You know that won't work.”

“Then stop badgering me.”

Alastar decided not to press directly. “There's another matter about the shootings of my imagers. I'd be curious to know if Marshal Wilkorn ordered new heavy rifles for the army.”

“That's absurd!” Lorien's voice rose. “You're suggesting that the army…”

Alastar shook his head. “I'm just trying to figure out why Vaschet built a new factorage to manufacture rifles. If Wilkorn ordered newer rifles—”

“He didn't.” Lorien frowned. “I suppose you need to know. One of his subcommanders did. He ordered a thousand. He didn't have the authority, and the army didn't need any more, except for a few for sharpshooters. Wilkorn canceled the order, except for fifty of them. We had to pay Vaschet an extra hundred golds for the cancellation. He complained bitterly that he'd built a new factorage based on the order and that we ought to pay for that. Wilkorn said an indemnity payment of a hundred golds was more than enough. Alucar said it was far too much.”

“If the army didn't need the rifles…”

“There was some confusion about that. Wilkorn insisted that he'd never approved it. The subcommander insisted he had an order with Wilkorn's signature. I wouldn't even have found out about it except that Alucar asked why the army was paying Vaschet damages. Wilkorn wanted to relieve the subcommander, but decided against it after we reviewed the matter.”

“Do you remember who the subcommander was?”

“Do you expect me to remember that? I don't even know who's in charge of the Collegium after you and Cyran … and I suppose your wife, since she's also a Maitre D'Esprit. I know Wilkorn, Vice Marshal Vaelln, and Sea Marshal Tynan. I'd recognize other names if I saw them, of course.”

Alastar had his doubts that Lorien was that ignorant. “I'm sure you know a few more than that, after all these years.”

Lorien dismissed Alastar's words with a gesture, then smiled. “There's one other disturbing matter, Maitre. The factor Vaschet has lodged a complaint against you with the High Justicer.”

“Oh? About what?”

“He claims you destroyed the gates to his ironworks, and killed several guards, as well as stole his ledgers. Not to mention assaulting him.”

“When I went to visit him, his guards threatened me. I removed their weapons. Then several other guards shot at us. In defending ourselves, the other imager and I may have killed one or two guards, but we tried not to hurt any more than necessary, but when we tried to leave we were attacked by a full squad of men armed with heavy rifles. I did borrow Vaschet's ledgers because he refused to discuss to whom he was selling the rifles being used to kill young imagers.”

“Hmmmph” was Lorien's only comment.

“I also discovered that Vaschet is using prisoners as laborers in his ironworks, which is why the walls of the works are fortified.”

“So long as the prisoners don't come from L'Excelsis—”

“Nonsense!” snapped Alastar. “It's a violation of the Codex Legis for anyone other than you and High Holders to imprison people, and High Holders can only do so for less than two months under low justice.”
Even if we both know that provision is observed more in the breach than by compliance.
“And only to their own people on their own lands.”

“Are you saying that you expect the High Holders to submit to the High Justicer when you do not?”

Alastar looked directly at Lorien and image-projected authority and fury.

Lorien shuddered. “Don't—”

“Stop playing plaques with me! You don't want to make the right decision because it's not comfortable, and you hate being uncomfortable. Right now anything you do will make you uncomfortable. You need to deny those petitions, and you need to do it today. You need to do it because it's what's right; it's what's best for Solidar; and because if you think you're uncomfortable now, you don't want to know just how uncomfortable you'll be if you don't.” Alastar paused, for just an instant. “Is that clear, Lorien? Very clear?”

Lorien swallowed. “You didn't have to make a scene.”

“You didn't have to be so obtuse. That makes us even. I was rude; you were obtuse.” Alastar smiled coldly. “I expect all those petitions that ask you to exempt High Holders from justicing or which would increase their powers and privileges to be denied. Today.”

“You wouldn't…”

“I would. Ask your father.”

Lorien paled. “It's that important?”

“Yes.”
More than you know … and all this dilly-dallying around has only made matters worse.
But that was the danger in trying not to overmanage Lorien.

“I'll sign. But this will only cause more trouble.”

“You're right, but it will cause less trouble than not signing. I'll wait while you sign every last one.”

In the end, Alastar spent almost another glass at the chateau, making certain the petitions were all denied and that Minister Sanafryt made copies and sent out the denials.

Then he rode north from the ring road with Konan, heading for army headquarters and Marshal Wilkorn.

Wilkorn was in, not that Alastar expected otherwise, and when Alastar entered his study, he rose slowly from behind the wide desk from which he had directed the army and navy of Solidar for the past thirteen years. “Greetings, Maitre. What troubles bring you here? Don't tell me it's just a friendly visit.”

“How about a friendly visit to discuss troubles with which the army, so far as I know, is not directly involved?”

The white-haired marshal gestured to a chair and reseated himself carefully. After all the years, he still favored the leg injured in the troubles that had led to Lorien's becoming rex. “Tell me about it.”

“Someone has been using heavy rifles to shoot young imagers. They've also targeted me…” Alastar went on to give a brief summary of what had occurred, including the armed guards at Vaschet's factorage, then finished by saying, “When I talked to Lorien earlier today, he mentioned something about an order of heavy rifles that had never been authorized, but he didn't seem to know much about it … or at least not want to talk about it.”

“That doesn't surprise me. I still don't know exactly everything. It all began when Minister Alucar sent a message asking why we needed to draw three thousand golds for a thousand new rifles. Procurements of that magnitude have to go through him, you know.”

Alastar nodded. “And?”

“We still had a thousand rifles that have barely been used, and that's after the thousand we shipped to Ferravyl.”

“Who in Ferravyl needed a thousand heavy rifles?” asked Alastar. “I thought most of the army in the south was in Solis?”

“Solis turned out to be a mistake. Well, not a mistake, but a miscalculation. A number of the pirates in the Southern Gulf had developed bases within the Sud Swamp, and it's easier to access the north end of the swamp from Ferravyl. For one thing there are the old stone roads that date from the time of the Naedarans, not to mention all the old barracks and quarters and stables that we've been maintaining. So we moved a regiment there from Solis two years ago. The swamp is harder on equipment, and last spring Commander Aestyn asked for the rifles so that he could rotate them, continuous maintenance, you know. We had the extras. So why not?”

BOOK: Treachery's Tools
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