Rex Regis

56

Quaeryt and first company reached the circle road around the Chateau Regis slightly after first glass on Jeudi. They had made better time covering the distance from Caanara to Variana than they had in leaving the capital weeks earlier, despite encountering some rain north of Talyon, largely because the road was in better condition as a result of the earlier imaging work … and because they didn’t stop to make additional road repairs. Variana itself appeared unchanged, with people coming and going and most giving but a passing glance at the troopers.

As first company started up the paved side road to the rear courtyard of the chateau, Quaeryt glanced to Calkoran on his left and then to Zhelan on his right. “We talked this over last night, but I want to make it clear. No troopers or officers are to be allowed to leave the Chateau Regis except by my order or that of Lord Bhayar personally. All troopers and officers riding in from anywhere are to be detained.” He looked past the two senior officers to the imager undercaptains. “You three are to support the major and subcommander until I return.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How much trouble do you think there will be?” asked Zhelan.

“None, I trust, but I want to make this as smooth as practicable.” And I want Deucalon having as little notice as possible.

The rear courtyard held only the duty squad assigned to the chateau, and the squad leader looked up with interest, but not concern, as first company approached.

Quaeryt rode to the hitching rail nearest the rear door and dismounted. He eased his leather dispatch case from his saddlebag and walked swiftly to the door. Behind him, the troopers were taking control of the rear courtyard. The two guards at the door stepped aside. Then Quaeryt was astounded to see Vaelora opening the door from inside, since no one had even announced him and he and his troopers had ridden in as quietly as possible.

She motioned for him to come into the chateau.

“Were you watching for me?”

“I’ve had a man stationed on the upper level for the past week with orders to report to me the moment any large bodies of troopers arrive. I’ve also had a courier by the front door to summon your imagers from the Collegium, if necessary.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Not if you’re back. What about Myskyl?”

“He was planning what we thought, and he had three of Kharst’s imagers. He’s dead and so is his senior commander. I left one regiment with a subcommander Bhayar trusted, and the rest of Northern Army is a day behind. They’re under the Commander Justanan, whom he trusts … and so do I.”

“Good. You need to read this before you see Bhayar.” Vaelora extended a dispatch.

“It’s that urgent?”

“More than that.” She gave him a quick hug and a quicker kiss before stepping back.

Quaeryt extracted the two sheets from the already opened envelope and began to read as they walked toward the center of the chateau.

Commander Quaeryt-

It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that both Commander Kharllon and Subcommander Dulaek passed away due to various mishaps over the past week. The first of these mishaps occurred after the governor had suggested that the orders governing Southern Army came through the chain of command from the marshal of the armies, or his successor, and that, henceforth, Southern Army would report directly to the marshal, rather than to the Lord of Telaryn. Commander Kharllon apparently suffered a seizure in his sleep the night after declaring that, since his guards reported that no one had entered or left his quarters. Then Subcommander Dulaek tripped and fell off a balcony on a late night visit to Subcommander Paedn who, as senior commander of Southern Army after the death of acting governor Kharllon, had assumed the role of acting governor. Dulaek was carrying a sabre smeared with an unusual substance …

Quaeryt read the remainder of the dispatch quickly, which assured Quaeryt that Voltyr and Paedn were working together, because the imagers had provided services for the new acting governor, although they remained based in Westisle, where they were converting naval barracks into quarters for the imagers and Nineteenth Regiment.

After finishing the dispatch, he looked to Vaelora. “What are your thoughts?”

“Myskyl had enlisted Kharllon from the beginning, and either Kharllon or Myskyl had suborned Dulaek.”

“I’d always thought that Kharllon was a possibility. Did Bhayar have a fit at what Voltyr did?”

“He wasn’t happy. I did point out that it was possible that the imagers acted to stop a rebellion in Antiago before it could take place.”

“He still wasn’t happy, I suspect.”

“You need to see him now.”

“That’s where I’m headed. You should come with me.”

“I intend to.”

Even if Quaeryt had thought she should not have come, he wouldn’t have argued with the iron behind her words.

“This way,” she said. “The back staircase that comes up close to his study is quicker, and fewer people in the chateau will see you. What else should I know?”

“I’d be surprised if there’s any more trouble in the north, but Bhayar is also going to be unhappy because he’s going to have to realize that the land he rules is too big for him to control it just by personal maneuvering and intrigue.”

“You’re right. I’ve been saying things along those lines, and he’s been close to dismissive.”

“Have we heard anything from the Khellan High Council?”

“Not a thing, but it might be another month … if they have to consult with all the local councils.”

That requirement had skipped Quaeryt’s mind, but another thought struck him after Vaelora nodded to the guard at the base of the narrow circular staircase and he followed her up the steps. “How did you get that dispatch?”

“Major Voltyr sent it with instructions that if you were not present, it was to go to me, and if I were not present, to Bhayar directly. It arrived last Lundi. The one you read is a copy. I even forged Voltyr’s signature. After reading the original, I made the copy and gave the original to Bhayar. Otherwise, he might have been misled by reports that were sent to Deucalon. He is still less than pleased.”

“Do you know what he told the marshal?”

“No. He said that matters would remain as they were until he had a report from you. He did say that Deucalon agreed that was for the best.”

“Deucalon is trying to maintain a position where he hasn’t committed himself.”

The eyes of the guard outside Bhayar’s study widened when he saw both Vaelora and Quaeryt as they walked from the top of the staircase toward the half-open study door.

“If you’d announce us,” suggested Quaeryt, removing his sweaty visor cap and tucking it under his arm.

“Yes, sir, Lady…” The guard turned. “Commander Quaeryt and Lady Vaelora, Lord Bhayar.”

“Send them in and close the door.”

Once more, the dark-haired Lord of Telaryn and Rex of Bovaria was standing by the open window. Even from across the study Quaeryt could see the dark circles under his eyes. Bhayar did not speak until the door clicked shut.

“You could have sent a dispatch.” His words were flat.

Quaeryt recognized the anger behind that flatness. “Not without risking your life and rule. And that is something I would not do.”

“You could have sent it with a full squad.”

“Against all of Deucalon’s regiments? I came ahead of Northern Army with my two companies. I doubt that a squad could have traveled that much faster.” Quaeryt gestured to the conference table. “I suggest we sit. I need to tell you what happened and show you some dispatches of interest.”

“Before we sit … what was Myskyl doing … if anything?”

“Plotting with Lady Myranda of Fiancryt, three imagers who served Kharst, and Marshal Deucalon to remove me and turn you into their puppet, if not to replace you completely. Shall we sit?”

“It might be best, brother dear,” said Vaelora. “I doubt that the story and all the details can be conveyed all that briefly.”

Bhayar’s face remained impassive as he walked toward the table.

Once the three were seated, Quaeryt began. “I’m going to relate events as they happened. Not the mundane business of what the companies did each day, but the events relating to what Myskyl and Deucalon, and others, did and were planning.”

“Should I summon Deucalon to hear this? It appears you are making a charge against him, and he has served Telaryn long and faithfully.”

“I think you need to hear and see what evidence I have. If you have questions about my recollection, you can question any of my troopers, imagers, or officers.”

Bhayar nodded. “Go on, then.”

“We left Variana on the seventeenth of Avryl. Nothing untoward occurred until the twenty-second of Avryl. We were some fifteen milles south of a town called Roleon when the rear guard intercepted a courier from Marshal Deucalon. This is the dispatch he carried.” Quaeryt eased the dispatch from the case and passed it to Bhayar, then waited as he read the dispatch.

“It only gives the date when you left Variana,” said Bhayar, laying the sheet on the table.

“It also points out that Deucalon has ‘obvious reasons’ for not asking about my destination, and states that Myskyl would find the information useful. Later on in the dispatch, you will note that Deucalon states that he agrees with Myskyl’s suggestion that when speaking to High Holders they should always refer to the power of Telaryn and its forces and never mention any individual by name or position. That way, he writes, their allegiance is to Telaryn and not to any individual.”

“Your point is?” asked Bhayar.

Quaeryt wondered if Bhayar were baiting him or being deliberately obtuse. “My point is that Rescalyn never mentioned you by name or position when addressing his officers in the entire time I was in Tilbor. I don’t think that is coincidence, not when Myskyl was Rescalyn’s deputy and was also submarshal under Deucalon.”

“Go on,” said Bhayar.

Can he really not see what was happening? Quaeryt cleared his throat. “When we questioned the dispatch riders, they informed us that they were ordered to avoid our forces and that more than three dispatch riders had arrived from Northern Army in the month before we set out. The courier knew them by name. Yet, according to what you told me, Deucalon said he had received no word from Myskyl since winter.”

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.