Rex Regis (58 page)

Bhayar nodded again, and Quaeryt continued, detailing the information he had received from various sources and High Holders along the way.

“… about fifteen milles north of Yapres, on the twenty-eighth of Avryl, we encountered and had to restrain with imaging another courier. He and his trooper escorts had been dispatched from the high holding of Fiancryt north and west of Rivages by Submarshal Myskyl. They were given specific orders to avoid at all costs any Telaryn troopers.” Quaeryt extended the second dispatch, again waiting for Bhayar to read it.

This time, he did see a hint of a frown, perhaps when Bhayar reached the part that mentioned that Myskyl was effectively holding on to ten thousand golds in tariffs from the factors and High Holders of the north.

“He seems preoccupied with the safety of the golds. By the way, what happened to them?” asked Bhayar.

“They are safe, being transported and guarded by Commander Justanan’s forces. They should arrive here in a day or two. I strongly suggested that he deliver them here.”

“Strongly suggested?”

“He does outrank me,” Quaeryt pointed out

“Who are the others with whom Myskyl was negotiating?”

“Most likely the three remaining imagers who served Kharst, based on what occurred later. All the commanders of Northern Army knew Myskyl was meeting with men they suspected were imagers.” Quaeryt paused, then added, “You might also note the line about ‘those who have usurped the powers of the marshal.’”

“I can read, Quaeryt. Continue.”

Quaeryt did so.

Surprisingly, Bhayar did not interrupt as Quaeryt relayed what had happened on the approach to Rivages, including an entire regiment being deployed to detain or capture him and his troopers, and then how Myskyl had attempted to murder him with the imagers and the metal-lined room and the oversized blunderbuss, ending with, “… After the hold house burned, I met with the two surviving senior commanders, Justanan and Nieron. Once the fire had died to ashes we inspected the remnants of the house, and they verified that there was indeed a blunderbuss mounted in the wall and that the so-called officers’ salon was metal-lined to keep me from imaging-”

“Why didn’t that work?”

“It would have if my imagers hadn’t kept Myskyl from closing the door…” Quaeryt did not mention the appearance of Erion, only that the interplay of imaging forces had resulted in lightnings and flame that killed Myskyl and the Bovarian imagers, and that the imager undercaptains’ efforts to keep Luchan from using the blunderbuss had resulted in his death. He did mention Lady Myranda’s escape.

“You couldn’t stop her?”

“We were rather occupied,” said Quaeryt mildly. “It takes some effort to infiltrate five regiments and deal with the three strongest Bovarian imagers.” He glanced to Vaelora. That quick look told him that she appeared ready to strike her brother dead.

Bhayar took a long deep breath, then looked at his sister. “Don’t glare at me.”

“Then stop acting like a clueless idiot,” she snapped back.

“That’s exactly the way many senior commanders would see it,” he returned. “Deucalon and Myskyl have served long and faithfully.”

“Until now,” said Quaeryt. “Even Nieron, who was predisposed to support Myskyl, is now convinced that Myskyl was plotting to destroy me and to increase the power of the marshal.”

“What exactly do you suggest I do with the high holding of Fiancryt, now that you turned it into a ruin?”

For a moment, Quaeryt couldn’t believe Bhayar’s question. Then, abruptly, he realized that Bhayar was having great difficulty in dealing with the magnitude of the treachery that had almost engulfed him. So he was focusing on something far smaller.
Because Deucalon and Myskyl had served his father so faithfully that he cannot believe they would turn against him? Or does he believe that Myskyl and Deucalon betrayed him because he has turned to me? Or perhaps both?

“Only the hold house,” replied Quaeryt after a moment of silence. “All the other structures are in good repair. I’d suggest that you grant the lands to Tyrena D’Ryel and her daughter.”

“What?”

“Can you think of anyone more likely to be loyal? In addition, it reduces the number of High Holders in Rivages, which has always been a trouble spot for the rulers of Bovaria.”

“Why does so much of what you do create consternation,” asked Bhayar, “when so much of it makes sense?”

“Because, sir, you wish to be respected for your sense of fairness, justice, and practicality, while most who have or seek power respect only power and its exercise and fear justice.”
And I have exercised power you do not wield, except through me, on your behalf.

“Why her?”

“Why not? She would have worked out terms with your father, I suspect, had she been allowed to be Khanara. She’s intelligent, and she owes you. She understands that the lands are hers on sufferance. It will also make the point that appointing Vaelora as Minister of Administration is not just a gesture … and she should have that position alone, once I officially become maître of the Collegium.”

“I’m beginning to think that cannot happen soon enough,” said Bhayar dryly, “especially after that business in Antiago.”

“What business?” asked Quaeryt guilelessly.

“You already know, I’m sure.” Bhayar handed an envelope and a dispatch to Quaeryt. “It’s a dispatch from Subcommander Paedn.”

Based on the dispatch from Voltyr, Quaeryt had few doubts about what the dispatch contained.

“I don’t know why I bother. You doubtless know what it contains.” Bhayar looked hard at his sister.

“I know what Major Voltyr said,” replied Quaeryt. “I don’t imagine that there’s much difference in the dispatch from Paedn.”

“Why not?”

“Because, unlike some, Paedn is both honest and loyal, and a decent commander.”

“Read it.”

Quaeryt did. The only difference in Voltyr’s dispatch and that of Paedn was a single section, and even it was not that much different.

… The night after Commander Kharllon declared that he would report directly to the marshal and not to Lord Bhayar he suffered some sort of seizure in his sleep and died suddenly. His personal guards were quite clear that no one entered or left his quarters that night.

Quaeryt had no doubts about what had happened. He looked up and returned the dispatch to Bhayar.

“What do you have to say?”

“Obviously, the commander had a guilty conscience about what he was doing, so much so that it triggered that seizure.”

Bhayar snorted. “The same things are happening with Major Voltyr as have happened around you, and I won’t have it!”

Quaeryt looked directly at Bhayar. “If you wish to remain Rex Regis of Solidar, you will have it. You cannot ever afford another senior officer who either attempts to take unnecessary power or who wants to destroy imagers and the Collegium.”

“
You
are telling me? Are you planning to be the next Rex Regis?”

“No. I don’t want to be rex. I don’t even want to be a marshal or a submarshal. Why do you think I took the extra risk of not bringing all the imagers with me to Rivages? Why do you think I left two imagers to support Meinyt, and two in Antiago? Why did I leave two here, working on rebuilding an anomen and building a Collegium? Why is Vaelora struggling with ledgers and gathering tariff rolls and information on factors and High Holders?” Quaeryt realized that his voice was getting louder and louder. He swallowed and lowered it before continuing. “Anytime an imager has tried to take power in the history of Lydar, the result has been a disaster. Even the High Council of Khel only has one imager out of five councilors, and most local councils have none. The people all across Solidar would rise in revolt if I even were named marshal, or submarshal, let alone considered as rex. Unlike Rescalyn and Myskyl … and Deucalon, I have no delusions about what I can accomplish. I can make your rule more secure, and I can assure that the imagers survive and support you. If you do not let me, in the end, we will both perish … and so will Aelina, Vaelora, and Clayar…”

“You think so?”

“So do I,” said Vaelora coldly. With her words came an image of bloody bodies strewn across the very study in which they stood, and one of those bodies was that of a graying Bhayar, another that of a young man that might have been Clayar in another ten years.

Bhayar paled, if only for a moment.

Quaeryt waited, then sighed. Loudly. “Rescalyn, Myskyl, and Deucalon all tried. So did Lady Myranda and the three imagers of Kharst. Do you know who will emerge to try again in five years … or ten? If you maintain a mighty army, how will you afford it? Even if you can, how well will you trust the marshal after Justanan?”

“I haven’t even named him as marshal.”

“You could name Pulaskyr. He would support you. After those two … then whom?”

Bhayar paused, then abruptly shook his head. “You two alone will stand up to me and tell me what I do not wish to hear.”

“No. Not alone. Aelina will, and before long, so will Voltyr.”

“Voltyr?”

“He’ll be in charge of the part of the Collegium in Westisle. That will make it far harder for anyone to contemplate attacking the Collegium here.”

“Two collegiums?”

“One Collegium … two locations.”

Bhayar’s sigh was short and explosive-the one that signaled true anger.

“Brother dear…” said Vaelora gently. “It does not become you to be so angered when Quaeryt has likely saved both your rule and your life.”

“Without even asking me…”

Neither Quaeryt nor Vaelora spoke, letting the silence draw out.

Finally, Bhayar sighed again, this time a drawn-out exhalation. “The more pressing question is how do you suggest I handle Deucalon?”

“Summon him here to meet with you at fifth glass. What you decide to do will depend on how he handles himself.”

“Unless he’s a fool, and he’s not, he won’t say anything, and there won’t be a single piece of paper or dispatch that will incriminate him.”

“The ones on the table are indicative,” replied Quaeryt. “And I may be able to persuade him to reveal more. The very fact that he has been receiving dispatches from Myskyl, while lying to you, is treason in and of itself. There are scores of witnesses to confirm that. The withholding of ten thousand golds is also a form of treason. So is colluding in the attempted murder of a commander acting under your direct orders. And so is ordering a commander-Kharllon-to disregard your direct orders in favor of the marshal’s. That is more than enough to order an execution.”

“You understand that. Will all the men who served?”

“Give Vaelora and me a glass or so. We might have a better solution. One that doesn’t involve ‘accidents’ or death.”

Sister and brother looked at him quizzically.

Quaeryt just smiled.

“Fifth glass, then, but I want to know your proposed solution by fourth glass.”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

Bhayar started to reply, then shook his head, finally saying, “Fourth glass.” Then he rose and walked toward the window.

Quaeryt and Vaelora left the study silently.

“What now?” asked Vaelora once they were well away from Bhayar’s study and approaching the grand staircase down to the main level.

“First, I have to tell Zhelan and Calkoran to allow a messenger to leave to summon Deucalon. I ordered them not to allow any troopers or officers to leave Chateau Regis.”

“You didn’t want Deucalon storming in until you briefed Bhayar?”

“Exactly, and I didn’t know if Bhayar would even be here or if he would be busy meeting with someone.” Quaeryt started down the grand staircase.

“He would have met with you.”

“And while we were meeting, some junior officer would have been riding off to warn the marshal. I wasn’t sure how Bhayar would take it. You saw how he didn’t want to believe it of Deucalon.”

“I did. But brother dear can be most implacable when he feels he has been betrayed.”

“Does he feel that way about Deucalon?”

Vaelora frowned. “He’s angry. He doesn’t like being deceived, and he doesn’t like it when he’s shown that he made a mistake. And he hates being wrong.”

“Don’t we all?” asked Quaeryt wryly. “While I’m giving orders to Zhelan and Calkoran, would you see about assembling what records you have about vacant high holdings, including any that Kharst bestowed in Khel?”

“Khel? You have a nasty turn of thought, dearest.”

“You mentioned sending word to Baelthm and Horan. Are they quartered on Imagisle now?”

“Since last week.”

“Then we’ll need to call them in, and have Khaern ready to bring in Eleventh Regiment.”

“Do you think that will be necessary?”

“I doubt it, but we’d both be neglecting our duty to Bhayar if it turns out to be required.”

“Do you need anything else?” she asked.

“You,” he replied with a warm smile.

“That, dearest, will have to wait.”

They separated at the foot of the staircase.

Quaeryt turned and walked half the width of the chateau to the rear door to the courtyard. When he stepped out into a stiff breeze under the high gray clouds, he saw Zhelan walking toward him. With the major was an undercaptain, and from the junior officer’s impassive expression, he was less than happy.

“Undercaptain Culean has a problem with your orders, Commander,” said Zhelan, offering a predatory smile.

“What is your difficulty, Undercaptain?” asked Quaeryt.

“The marshal himself ordered me to report when any companies or officers returned to the Chateau Regis. Your officers refused to let me do so.”

“They refused to let you do so because I ordered them not to. Since I report directly to Lord Bhayar, and since Lord Bhayar is the marshal’s superior, they were right to do so, since they are not in your chain of command. They also outrank you.” Quaeryt smiled. “Shortly, I understand, Lord Bhayar will be sending a courier to the marshal. You-and you alone from your command-may accompany that trooper and report to the marshal.”