Rex Regis (59 page)

“Yes, sir.”

Ignoring the combination of fear and anger almost but not quite suppressed from appearing on the undercaptain’s face, Quaeryt turned to Zhelan. “See that he does not leave until Bhayar’s courier departs.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where is Subcommander Calkoran?”

“He and his men are deployed in the front of the Chateau Regis.”

“Thank you. I need to give him some instructions.” He turned to the waiting imager undercaptains, all standing beside their mounts. “Lhandor, if you’d join Subcommander Calkoran. Khalis, Elsior, you’re to support Major Zhelan.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt hurried back into the chateau, crossing to the front entrance, where he found Calkoran at the base of the steps up to the entry and there conveyed his orders for the messages to the imagers and Subcommander Khaern. Then he made his way back to Vaelora’s study.

She looked up from a ledger. “It will be a quint or so before the clerks have what we need about the high holdings in Bovaria. There weren’t many granted in Khel. I can only find six, and all were near port cities.”

“How did you find that out?”

“The tariff records kept by the Bovarian factors’ councils. I assume you’re thinking about giving Deucalon a high holding in the northwest of Khel.”

“I am. One as far away as possible-Eshtora or Moryn.”

“Khel hasn’t even agreed to terms.”

“They will. Bhayar can tell him that he will not only be stipended with honor, but he will be named as High Holder once Bhayar has determined a large and appropriate holding, and that it will not be that long. If Khel doesn’t come to terms, we’ll find the most isolated large high holding we can and bestow that on him.”

“It’s too bad we can’t just have him executed,” said Vaelora.

“It’s better that Myskyl be thought the villain. Besides, he is the greater villain. We can spread the word that Deucalon wasn’t himself in the last part of the war and that Myskyl took advantage of that … and that Bhayar felt his previous service merited recognition. That way, if Deucalon does try to stir up trouble, then Bhayar will have reason to act more harshly.”

“Brother dear might like the honorable stipend approach better.”

“Much as I dislike Deucalon, it makes more sense. That way, Deucalon becomes an officer who served well, but just too long, and it buries the fact that the two top-ranking officers were conspiring against Bhayar.”

“There were more than two, if you count Kharllon.”

“He just had a seizure after being faced with an impossible situation,” said Quaeryt dryly. He said nothing more as Vaelora continued to look through the ledger.

Finally, she looked up. “There are several vacant high holdings in Khel, all of them, in fact. The one that meets your criteria best is Khunthan. It’s one of the largest in Lydar. It’s located northeast of Eshtora, and it was bestowed on one Elizaran. According to the tariff records, the last tariffs were not paid because Elizaran and his family vanished and are possibly dead. That’s true of all six of the holdings Kharst created.”

“All we have to do is insist on a few high holdings when Khel comes to seek terms,” said Quaeryt.

“Will they?”

“You’re better at seeing what will be. What do you think?”

“The High Council isn’t stupid. Khel now stands alone. They don’t have anything to lose by suggesting the most favorable terms they can.”

“We both know that. What do you feel? Or farsee?”

“I haven’t had farsight flashes, not since the one…” She frowned. “You’ve never said…”

“You were right. The officers’ salon was pitch-dark from where I stood when Myskyl ordered the iron shutters dropped. We can talk about that later, but your telling me about the farsight made me aware that I would be facing some sort of trap.”

“I’m glad it helped.”

“We don’t have that much time,” Quaeryt said. “Would you mind seeing what the clerks have come up with?”

She smiled and headed for the door to the adjoining study.

In the end, even with the incomplete records that Vaelora and the clerks had been able to piece together, Quaeryt and Vaelora found three possible high holdings in Bovaria that could be granted to Deucalon, assuming that Bhayar agreed with their “solution.”

Promptly at fourth glass, Quaeryt and Vaelora entered Bhayar’s study.

Bhayar was already seated at the conference table. He did not rise, but gestured for them to sit, waiting to speak until they were seated. “The more I think about this, the angrier I become. At first, I couldn’t believe it was possible, but then…” He shook his head. “How could he do this? Why?”

“Because Myskyl was very persuasive, obviously,” replied Quaeryt. “I was wrong, you know? I thought that Myskyl was merely a loyal follower of Rescalyn, when it had to have been the other way around.”

“How did you know? And when?” asked Bhayar.

“I didn’t, not for certain. But when Skarpa and Southern Army were always detailed to attacks and positions designed so that we took the greatest risk … and then when Deucalon changed who was to attend senior officers’ meetings, it became clearer and clearer that one of them, if not both, wanted me dead in a way that couldn’t be traced to them, as well as isolated from the other commanders. Looking back, I can see that Myskyl feared that the imagers would undermine his and Deucalon’s power and influence. I suspect, but there’s no proof, that Kharllon was part of it. If he’d been allowed to remain as acting governor of Antiago, and Myskyl controlled Northern Army, and Deucalon the regiments remaining near Variana…”

“I’d have had a hard time not doing what they wanted if they’d been able to remove you,” concluded Bhayar.

Vaelora nodded.

“So what solution do you have-besides the execution he deserves?”

“The execution is exactly what he deserves,” began Quaeryt, “but that will not serve you all that well. The proof we have of what he did is more than sufficient to prove his guilt, but not the sort that is easily explained to troopers and officers-or to many others. We were thinking about a gilded prison of sorts-rewarding him with a high holding in a locale where he could not make trouble … and where, if he did, an accident would not be all that unusual … or noticed…” Quaeryt went on to explain his thoughts. When he finished, he waited.

Bhayar fingered his chin. Then he frowned. He shifted his weight in his chair and frowned again. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of his getting away with this. I don’t.”

“He won’t,” said Vaelora. “Keep him here until you decide on which high holding. Make him a guest.”

“But forbid him any contact with other officers, beginning right after you tell him of his good fortune.”

“He won’t see it as good fortune,” said Bhayar.

“He will if you point out that his acts could be seen as treason,” said Quaeryt,”and that you have evidence and witnesses.”

“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” replied Bhayar.

For the next quint, the three discussed how they would proceed.

Then Vaelora stood. “If this is a matter for officers, I should not be present.”

Bhayar nodded, but did not speak, as his sister slipped from the study.

Less than half a quint passed before the guard announced, “Marshal Deucalon.”

“Have him enter.”

Quaeryt stood. Bhayar did not.

“Sir,” offered Deucalon, bowing his head slightly to Bhayar as he stepped into the study. Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Commander.”

“Marshal,” returned Quaeryt, without offering the usual head bow to a superior officer.
It might be petty, but Deucalon doesn’t deserve it.

Bhayar gestured to the seat at his left.

Deucalon offered the hint of a frown, but seated himself. Quaeryt took the seat to Bhayar’s right.

Bhayar did not immediately speak, but studied Deucalon almost as if he had never met the marshal before. Finally, he began. “Deucalon, you served my father long and loyally and well. And for several years you did the same for me.”

“I have always served you and the interests of Telaryn to the best of my ability.”

“If you believe that,” said Bhayar quietly, “then you and I have quite different ideas about what my interests and those of Telaryn are. For the past three months, I have inquired, time after time, about the activities of Northern Army. You have insisted that you have heard no word from Submarshal Myskyl. I dispatched Commander Quaeryt to see what might be the difficulty. Not only did he discover that the late submarshal was plotting a rebellion with the assistance of Bovarian High Holders and three imagers who had served Rex Kharst, he also intercepted dispatches proving that you lied about not receiving word from the submarshal.”

“That is only his word, sir, and if I might say so, his interests are not yours.”

“It is not just his word. One of those dispatches has your signature on it, and its content indicates that you had received dispatches from the submarshal during the time when you insisted there were none. There are also scores of troopers and doubtless several officers who can name the couriers who rode from your headquarters and returned. There are two senior commanders who know that as well.”

“Their ambition will justify their perjury.”

Quaeryt had to admire Deucalon’s air of injured outrage, not that he believed in Deucalon’s innocence for a moment.

“The couriers have no reason to lie, either about their dispatches or about the fact that they were ordered to avoid Commander Quaeryt’s forces. Any reasonable interpretation of your acts would suggest either incompetence or treason,” replied Bhayar.

“No one will believe your charges, sir. They have been fabricated by this…”

“Commander Quaeryt has risked his life time and time again over the past years. I allowed you to order attacks that put him and his troopers in danger in battle after battle because I trusted you. I even let you change the attendance for senior officers’ meetings to exclude him. That was wrong on my part, and even more so on yours.”

“If there was any treason, it was on the part of the submarshal. I have served you loyally, with your best interests at heart.”

“That may be, but you recommended that Myskyl be made a submarshal and you failed to exercise adequate supervision.”

“My conscience is clear, sir. I did what I thought best, but I had no idea…” Deucalon stopped abruptly.

“No idea of what?” asked Bhayar mildly.

“About whatever it was that Submarshal Myskyl was doing.”

“You certainly knew that he had collected significant tariffs from the High Holders and factors, but those never reached me. Ignoring orders and keeping tariff revenues from your ruler…” Bhayar shook his head. “Those are not the acts of a loyal marshal.”

“I acted in your interests, sir.” Deucalon looked pointedly at Quaeryt.

“No … you decided that Commander Quaeryt was acting against what you thought were your interests, and you decided that your interests were mine. It doesn’t work that way, Deucalon. My interests are yours, not the other way around.”

“And his are not yours, either.”

“Actually, they are. He wants a land where imagers and those suspected of imaging are not hounded and killed. Where the Pharsi are treated fairly as well. So do I. He wants a land where wars do not occur between neighbors every generation. So do I. And he wants a land where the ruler does not have to look over his shoulder at those who serve him, wondering who will try to betray him next. That … that, I definitely want.” Bhayar’s voice softened as he asked, “What do you want, Deucalon?” His dark blue eyes fastened on the marshal.

After a moment Deucalon replied, “A fair hearing, not a trumped-up judgment.”

Bhayar shook his head. “No, you don’t. If I give you a fair hearing, I’ll have to order your execution. I already have enough evidence to justify that.” Again he looked hard at Deucalon.

After a long time the marshal looked down.

“On the other hand,” Bhayar continued, “you have rendered long and diligent service to both my father and me. It may be that this service has created too great a burden on you. For this reason, I will be appointing a new marshal. I am also allowing you to leave my service with a full and honorable stipend…”

Deucalon’s face hardened, and Quaeryt could see the suppressed anger.

“… and further, in recognition of your devoted service, especially to my father, you will be granted a large and prosperous high holding. Because of the speed of recent events, I have not had a chance to review all of the holdings available and suitable, but I will decide shortly. In the meantime, you will be my guest here at the Chateau Regis.”

“Your prisoner,” suggested Deucalon.

“No. You can come and go as you wish, with one exception. You have been relieved of command, and you are not to meet or communicate with any officers except Commander Quaeryt. Should you do so, you will find that I will be far less generous. Far less.” Bhayar’s voice turned cold with the last words.

Deucalon looked to Quaeryt.

Quaeryt image-projected authority and cold certainty.

Abruptly Deucalon seemed to sag, looking older and tired. “I will do my best to be a loyal High Holder.”

“You may send for your family, if you so desire,” added Bhayar. “The holding you receive will not be in Telaryn, and they may wish to accompany you to it.”

“You are most kind.”

“All your personal items will be brought here,” added Quaeryt.

“You are most thoughtful, Commander.”

Quaeryt could hear the faint irony in Deucalon’s words and replied, “I have always attempted to think through everything in a fashion that serves Lord Bhayar most effectively.”

“He is most fortunate to have your loyalty.”

“No. I am most fortunate to serve a ruler who acts beyond his anger and looks beyond the moment.” After the slightest pause, Quaeryt added, “So are you.”