Dragonseye (Red Star Rising)

High Reaches and Fort Holds

“So,” Paulin asked Thea and Gallian in the comfortably warm High Reaches solarium where the High Reaches Lady Holder received her guests, “is there any way we can get him to change his mind?”

Thea shrugged. “Not by reasoned argument, that’s for certain. He was indignant that ‘a Lord Holder’s right to deal with his own folk’ had been set aside for the two trials.”

“Not that he objected to the sentences. ‘That was only right and just, and they should have been sent to the Islands as well, for they’ll only make trouble of a different sort now,’” Gallian added, mimicking his father’s thin, wheezing voice. “If he would only give me authorization to deal with all Hold matters…” and he raised his hands in helplessness.

“He’s too sick.”

“Wait a minute. He is sick,” Paulin interrupted, “and your weather here is only aggravating the respiratory problem, isn’t it?” Thea’s eyes widened as she jumped to a conclusion.

“If he was sent to Ista or Nerat to recuperate, why he’d have to authorize Gallian - -“, she began.

“Precisely.”

“What happens when he recovers and finds out what I did knowing, as he’s made sure I do, his views on impeachment,” Gallian said, “and finds out I’ve gone against him? I could very likely lose my chance of succession.”

“That not likely, dear. You know how he carries on about your stupid ‘younger brothers’,” said Thea reassuringly, laying a hand on her son’s arm. “You just know when to stand up to him. You’ve always had a flair for dealing with people. As for the nephews.” She threw up her hand in despair.

Then her face clouded. “I really am worried about these constant chest infections. Frankly, I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.” She sighed in regret. “He’s been a good spouse.”

“Can you get your medic to recommend the warmer climate?” Paulin asked sympathetically.

“He’s been doing so constantly,” Thea said, setting her mouth in a firm line. “I’ll make it so. Somehow! I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t. For his sake as well as those poor wretches.”

Gallian looked uncertain.

“Don’t worry, lad,” said Paulin. “You’ve already got full marks in my book for cooperation. And, as long as I’m Chair, you’ve my support. The Conclave doesn’t necessarily have to abide by the deceased’s wishes as to successor. But we’ve got to take action now.

“Even waiting until Turn’s End is dangerous. We rescued those people, their rights were upheld in a duly assembled court, and Chalkin’s in some state of mind over that.” Paulin’s laugh was mirthless. “We can’t let him take his vengeance out on them, or we’ve spent a lot of time and effort to no avail. With this thaw setting in, he’ll be able to move about. And I think we all have a good idea that he’ll retaliate in some fashion.”

Thea shuddered, her comfortably plump body rippling under her thick gown. “I won’t have that on my conscience, no matter what my Lord Jamson says.” She rose.

“Jamson spent such a poor night, I’ll catch him now, before he can put up any more objections. One thing’s certain, he doesn’t want to die. He likes Richud more than Franco.

I’ll suggest Ista Hold. I wouldn’t mind the winter there myself, In fact.”

And suddenly, she straightened her shoulders, “I think I’m gomig dowd wifa gold, too…” and she altered her voice appropriately, sniffing. “He might just humor me where he wouldn’t do a thing for himself. If you’ll excuse me?” Both men had stood when she did, and now Gallian strode to open the door for her as she sailed gracefully out, grinning mischievously as she left. Gallian returned to his guest, shaking his head.

“I’ve never gone against my father before,” he said anxiously, his expression unhappy.

“Nor would I urge you to do so, lad. I appreciate your doubts, but can you doubt what Chalkin will do?”

“No, I can’t,” and Gallian sighed, turning back to the Fort Lord Holder with a resolute expression. “I suppose I should get accustomed to making decisions, not merely carrying them out.”

Paulin clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. “That’s it exactly, Gallian. And I’ll guarantee, not all the decisions you’ll be called upon to make will be the right ones. Being a Lord Holder doesn’t keep you from making mistakes: just make the right wrong ones!”

Paulin grinned as Gallian tried to absorb that notion. “If you are right most of the time, you’re ahead of the game. And you’re right in this one for the good reasons which your father declines to see.”

Gallian nodded his head. Then he asked more briskly, “Will you have some wine now, Paulin?”

“You’ve your mother’s way with you,” Paulin said, accepting the offer. “Which you will find is an advantage… Not, mind you, that I in any way imply a lack in your father’s manners.”

“No, of course not,” Gallian agreed but he smiled briefly, then cleared his throat. “Ah, what happens to Chalkin when he’s removed? I mean, it’s not as if he could be dropped on the southern islands, is it?”

“Why not?” Paulin replied equably. “Not,” he added hastily when he saw Gallian’s consternation, “that he would be placed on the same one as the murderers. There is a whole chain an archipelago of them.”

“Aren’t they volcanic?”

“Only Young Island, otherwise they’re tropical and quite habitable. But one is certain then that the… ah… detainee cannot leave and cause reactions. Which Chalkin would certainly do if he was allowed to remain on the Mainland. No, the most sensible and most humane solution is to put him where he can’t do any more harm than he’s already done.”

“Then who’s to take over managing Bitra?”

“His children are too young, certainly, but there’s an uncle, not much older than Chalkin at that.”

“I heard a rumor though that Vergerin and Chalkin had played a game, the stakes being an uncontested succession.”

“My father mentioned that, too, early on when impeachment first came up. Said he ought to have insisted that Vergerin stand in spite of what the old Neratian Lord wanted. Chalkin’s spouse is Franco’s sister, you know.”

“I’d forgotten that. Amazing,” Paulin added.

“Franco’s totally different, but then his mother was Brenton’s first spouse.

They were discussing the ever-interesting problem of heredity when the door suddenly opened and Thea came in, almost bent double.

“Great Stars, mother!” Gallian rushed to assist her. “Why, what’s the matter? You’re so flushed.”

She slammed the door shut, waved aside her son’s help and collapsed in her chair with laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, your father, dear…” She wiped tears from her cheeks and some of the ‘flush’ came away, too. She looked at the handkerchief and rubbed her cheeks more vigorously, still laughing.

“We did it! He’s going to the warm. I left him writing to ask for Richud’s hospitality. I said I’d have a message pennon flown, but your rider would take it, wouldn’t he, Paulin? When he takes you back to Fort?”

“Indeed, he will. or rather I’ll take it to Richud myself and ask him to connive with us to keep Jamson from knowing what’s happening off the island,” said Paulin, grinning with relief.

“But why are you laughing, Mother? And why the face paint?” Gallian demanded.

“Well,” and she flitted her handkerchief, beaming at the two. “What he wouldn’t do for himself, he’d do for his ailing mate,” she said, again assuming a stuffed-nose voice. “So first I had your sister go in and fetch Canell, as if there were an emergency. I primed Canell to back me up, and it was he who suggested the rouge. So when I came into your father’s room, I arrived moaning over my aches and pains which had developed so rapidly overnight. And sneezing constantly fortunately, I have a small sneeze so I can imitate it… Then Canell took over - really, the man was quite convincing. He got alarmed over my rapid pulse and flushed face. He made much of worrying about the condition of my lungs and the strain on my heart. So between us, why, Jamson agreed to take me south to Ista until I’m completely recovered. So there!” She beamed from one to the other, quite delighted.

“Mother! You are the living end.”

“Of course,” she said patronizingly. Then she surprised both men by sneezing. “Oh, good heavens!”

“Hmmm,” said Gallian with mock severity, “that’s what happens when you tell stories. You get what you pretended you had.”

“He’s sent someone looking for you, too, son.””

There was a polite tap at the door. Gallian went immediately to answer it, opening only wide enough to be seen.

“Yes, tell Lord Jamson that I’ll be there directly.”

“I’ll wait with Lord Paulin until you can get the letter, Galli,” she said, pouring herself some wine. “This is to fortify myself against my cold and any relapse I might have taken.

“Another small glass for yourself, Paulin? To toast my debut as an actress?”

“I wish you’d thought of that ploy earlier.”

“So do I,” she said with a little sigh. “But I hadn’t such an overwhelming need to before. Those poor people! Who will take over from Chalkin once you get him out? And what will happen to him, for that matter?”

“That has to be decided.”

“We were just discussing that, Mother,” Gallian said.

“There’s Vergerin, the uncle on the father’s side.”

“But Vergerin gambled his succession rights away,” Thea said sternly.

“You heard that, too?” Paulin asked.

“Well, you know that Bloodline,” Thea said. “Always gambling. On the most ridiculous things, too, and for the most bizarre wagers. But to gamble on the succession?” Her expression showed her disgust over that wager.

“Perhaps Vergerin learned a lesson,” Gallian remarked a trifle condescendingly, Paulin thought.

“Perhaps,” Paulin said. If we find him alive.”

“Oh, no!” Thea’s hand went to her throat in dismay.

“If the Council votes to impeach…”

“Not if, Gallian, when,” said Paulin, raising his hand in correction.

“When they do, how do they go about getting Chalkin out of Bitra Hold?” Gallian asked.

“I think that will require thought and planning,” Paulin replied.

“But go now and see your father, Gallian. Mustn’t keep him waiting. He might change his mind.”

“Not when Mother’s health is at stake,” Gallian said and, with a final grin, he left the room.

“Promise me, Paulin, that Gallian’s chance at succession won’t suffer because of this?” asked Thea, earnestly gripping his arm.

“I do promise, Thea,” he said, patting her hand.

Four days later, when Lord Jamson and Lady Thea had been safely conveyed to Ista Hold, the rest of the Lords, Ladies Holder and the Weyrleaders convened an emergency meeting at Telgar Hold and formally impeached Lord Chalkin for dereliction of his duties and responsibilities to Benden Weyr, for the cruel and unusual punishment of innocent holders (Iantine’s drawings were submitted as well as the proceedings of the recent trials), for refusing to allow the Charter to be taught so that all would know their rights as well as their responsibility (Issony gave testimony on that account) and for denying these rights to his holders without due reason.

Gallian soberly voted ‘Yea’ in his turn, having duly exhibited his authorization to act in all matters concerning High Reaches Hold.

“So, now what do we do?” Tashvi asked, clasping his hands together with an air of relief at a difficult decision completed.

“Obviously, we inform Chalkin and remove him,” Paulin said.

“No other trial?” Gallian asked, startled.

“He just had it,” said Paulin. “Judge and jury of his peers.”

“It would be against all precedent to employ dragon riders to effect his removal,” S’nan stated flatly.

Everyone turned to the Fort Weyrleader, showing varying degrees of surprise, disgust, anger or incredulity at such a fatuous statement.

“Impeachment is also against all precedent, too, S’nan,” M’shall said, “because this is the first time that Clause has been invoked since it was written two-hundred and fifty-odd years ago. But it’s now a matter of record. However, I disagree that the dragon riders should bow out. Fraggit, S’nan, one of the main reasons for getting rid of him is that he has not helped to prepare his Hold which we are honor bound to protect. I’ll drag him out of there myself if need be.”

Irene beside him nodded vehemently in his support and then glared at S’nan. Sarai, S’nan’s Weyrwoman, regarded Irene in horrified dismay.

“If you don’t grab him first, he’ll just flit out of that warren of a Hold of his, and who knows what he might do then?” Irene said.

Then she blinked and cocked her head, puzzled.

“You know, I don’t know enough about the interior lay-out of Bitra Hold to know where to find him, much less grab him with all those bodyguards he has around him. Franco?” “What?” The Nerat Lord Holder responded nervously. “I can’t tell you what Bitra’s like. I’ve never been in more than the reception rooms even if Nadona is my sister.”

“How curious,” Bastom remarked.

“What will we do when we do get him out?” Franco asked. “Who’s to Hold? Those kids of his are too young.”

“The uncle, Vergerin…” Paulin began.

“What about a regency till they’re of age?” Azury Suggested, cutting across the Fort Lord’s beginning.

“Or a promising younger son from a well-conducted Hold?” Richud of Ista asked, looking about brightly.

“We know the Bloodline’s tainted with the gambling addiction,” put in Bridgely.

“That trait can be remedied by strict discipline and a good education,” Salda of Telgar said firmly. “As the seed is sowed so will it ripen.”

“Vergerin.”Paulin said again, raising his voice to be heard above the various arguments.

“Him? He gambled his rights away…” Sarai of Fort Weyr said at her most severe.

“Chalkin cheated.” said M’shall. “He did in every high-stake game I ever heard of.”

Irene gave him a very thoughtful stare.

“So I heard!” M’shall repeated.

“VERGERIN” and Paulin roared the word, stunning everyone into silence, “must be considered first, since he is of the Bloodline. That’s a stipulation of the Charter which I intend to follow to the letter. He is missing from the property where he had quietly resided since Chalkin took Hold.”

“Missing?”

“Chalkin do it?”

“Where? Why?”

“Vergerin would have had training from his brother in Hold management,” Paulin continued, and I believe that the records state that Kinver was a capable and fair Lord Holder.”

“He gambled, too,” Irene remarked in an undertone.

“But he didn’t cheat,” M’shall said, giving his Weyrmate a stern look.

“We all adhere, do we not,” Paulin went on, “to the Charter Inheritance Clause which stipulates that a member of the Bloodline must be considered first? Now, if Vergerin is available.”

“And willing,” M’shall added.

“And able,” G’don of the High Reaches Weyr amended in a firm voice.

“Able and willing,” Paulin echoed, “we would then be following the Charter -“

“We’ve set one precedent today,” Bastom said. “Why not give Bitra a break and put in someone trained and competent? Especially since there’s so much to be done to get that Hold cleared for the spring action.”

“Good point. How about a team? Give some young, eager scions some practice in day-to-day management?” Tashvi suggested.

“All those with younger sons and daughters available for the job, raise your hands,” said M’shall, not quite as facetiously as he sounded.

“No, you have to replace Chalkin with a member of the Bloodline,” S’nan said loudly, pounding the table with both fists.

“Then it has to be Vergerin.”

“If we can find him.”

“ORDER! ORDER!” and Paulin banged his gavel forcefully until silence prevailed. “There! Now, we can think again. First, we must remove Chalkin.”

“What good does that do if we’ve no-one to put in authority in a Hold that will be totally demoralized to find itself leaderless?” S’nan asked, so incensed that he was speaking faster than anyone had ever heard him talk.

“Ah, but we put in a new Holder so quickly no-one will have time to become demoralized,” Tashvi said.

“I suspect that we will,” Paulin said. “Vergerin is not in his known holding, and indeed the place looks to have been deserted for some length of time.”

S’nan was aghast. “Chalkin has removed him?”

“Probably to that cold storage he’s said to have in his lower levels,” M’shall said grimly.

“Master Domaize insisted that we learn the rudiments of architectural draughting,” the young portraitist said.

“There’s another level,” Issony put in, tapping the right-hand corner of the paper. “You were lucky not to visit it.” He gave a snort. “Chalkin calls it his cold storage.” The teacher glanced around the table. “A lot of small cubicles, some horizontal, some vertical, and none of them long enough or wide enough for the poor blighters shoved in ’em.”

“You can’t be serious?” S’nan’s eyes protruded in dismay

“Never more,” Issony said. “One of the kitchen girls spilled a tub of sweetener and she was immured for a week. She died of the damp cold of the place.”

“Then,” as Iantine’s pencil slowed, “There’re steps down from his rooms here. They come out in the kitchen. He’s always complaining that delicacies disappear from storage, but I know for a fact he’s the one snitching.” Issony grinned. “I was trying to get some food one night and he nearly caught me at it.”

“There’s an upper level over this section,” Iantine said his pencil poised. “But the door was padlocked.”

“Supposedly due to subsidence,” said Issony with a bit of a snort.

“But there wasn’t as much dust in the hall as usual in his back corridors. I think it could be an access to the panel heights.”

“We’ll have a dragon up there, too,” Paulin said. He wasn’t the only one to stand behind the artist to watch him work.

“Quite a warren. Glad you looked about you when you were there, Iantine.” He patted the young man’s shoulder in approval. “So how many… ah… discreet exits are there?”

“I know of nine, besides the front one and the kitchen door,” Issony said as he pointed out the locations.

Paulin rubbed his hands together and, waving everyone to resume their seats at the table, stood for a long moment looking at the floor plan.

“So, let us not waste time and let us agree on the… ah… strategy here and now. Irene, I appreciate your willingness to be bait, but let us use surprise instead. Issony, Iantine, when would the Hold be at its most vulnerable?”

The two men exchanged glances. Issony shrugged. “Early morning, about four-five o’clock. Even the watchwher’s getting tired. Most of the guards would be asleep.” He glanced towards Iantine who nodded.

“So, we will need dragon riders.”

“Let’s stick to those of us in this room if we can,” M’shall suggested.

“It’s totally improper to hound a man in his own Hold,” began S’nan, starting to rise from his seat.

G’don of High Reaches, seated just beyond him, pulled his arm to reseat him.

“Give over, S’nan,” he said wearily.

“You’re excused from the force, S’nan,” Paulin told him, equally exasperated.

“But… but…” Even his Weyrmate shushed him.

“There’re more than enough of us quite willing,” said Shanna of Igen with a withering glance at the dismayed Fort Weyrleader.

“Good. Then we’ll cover all the exits.”

“There’s one window in the kitchen that they always forget to lock,” Iantine said, “and I don’t think they ever feed the watchwher enough. He’s all bones. Something juicy might occupy him. And I think the window’s beyond his chain’s reach.”

“Good points, Iantine,” said Paulin. “Through the window, then, and we’ll infiltrate immediately up to Chalkin’s private quarters through the back stairs.”

“The hidden door’s the panel next to the spice cupboard.”

“If you take me along, I can find it in a jiffy,” Issony suggested, his eyes bright with anticipation.

“If you’re willing…” Paulin said.

“I am, too,” Iantine added.

“I rather thought you might be,” said Paulin, and then rapidly issued the details of the plan.

With the exception of S’nan, all the Weyrleaders were involved and even young Gallian was persuaded to come.

“I might as well be hanged for the sheep as the lamb,” he said with a fatalistic shrug.

“You’ll not suffer from this day’s work, Gallian,” Bastom assured him. It’s a unanimous decision and our presence there will make that plain to Chalkin. He has no allies among us,” the Tillek Lord said, with a reproving glance at S’nan who sat with face set in such a mournful expression that Bastom was nearly sorry for the punctilious Weyrleader.

“So we are agreed, Lords, Ladies and Leaders?” Paulin said when he was sure everyone had grasped their roles in the deposition. “Then let us refresh ourselves and rest until it’s time to depart.”