L. Modesitt - Scholar

Since he had no answers, he’d returned to doing what he could do.

In the end, Quaeryt arranged for second squad to use the former staff rooms above the stable, and he took a second-level room away from any others, barred and wedged it shut, and eventually slept-uneasily. He woke early on Samedi morning, dressed, and immediately checked with the squad leader. Nothing untoward had occurred. Nor had any of the patrols during the night found any sign of either Alkiabys or Zarxes.

After breakfast in the dining hall, where he sat at a table with Squad Leader Rheusyd, he’d made his way back to the Master Scholar’s study, which had been cleaned, and began to study the ledgers provided by the bursar that outlined the expenses of the Ecoliae. In less than a quint, he discovered an unexplained entry that appeared every month under “Funds Received.” The title was just “scholar stipends,” but the sum was the same each month-twenty golds. He went back to the first entry in the ledger he had before him-more than five years earlier-and the entry was the same, with no explanation.

He picked up the ledger and walked to the third door-that to the study of Yullyd, the bursar-opened it, and stepped inside.

“Sir?”

“How long have you been bursar?”

“Four years, sir. I took over when Covean died of consumption.”

Quaeryt opened the ledger and pointed to the latest “scholar stipend” entry. “There’s no explanation of this, and there’s one like it every month from the first page in the ledger. Where did they come from?”

“I don’t know where those golds came from, sir. They weren’t golds, either. They were new-minted silvers, twenty golds’ worth. The Master Scholar never said who sent them and told me not to ask and not to worry. They were always delivered by a barge courier in a canvas bag during the first week of every month. I asked, but the courier didn’t know anything except that he was told to meet a barge that came from upriver and take the bag to the Ecoliae.”

“Are there any other entries like that in the ledger?”

“No, sir. That’s the only one I can’t explain.”

Quaeryt nodded, if slowly. “Thank you.” Twenty golds’ worth of new-minted silvers? Every month? He closed the ledger and tucked it under his arm, turned, and left the study. He did not return to the Master Scholar’s study, but headed toward the princeps’s study because the mention of the death of the previous bursar had reminded him of another question.

When he stepped into the princeps’s study, Nalakyn was talking with a scholar Quaeryt did not recognize. Both looked up, worried, and the other scholar stood, as if to leave.

“You don’t need to go. I just had a quick question for Princeps Nalakyn.” Quaeryt turned to Nalakyn. “I haven’t seen Sarastyn.”

“Oh … didn’t you know? He died the day after you departed. He had been ill, you know?”

“I knew he was ill, not that he had died. Thank you.”

Ill though Sarastyn might have been, reflected Quaeryt as he returned to the Master Scholar’s study, he had no doubts that Phaeryn or Zarxes had “helped” that illness along. He couldn’t help but wonder what else he might have learned from the old scholar … or what Zarxes hadn’t wanted him to learn.

He sat down behind the desk and looked at the closed ledger. According to the figures, the Ecoliae was barely getting by … and that was with a twenty-gold monthly payment, most likely from one of the hill holders. But from whom? Why in new-minted silvers?

The source was likely Zorlyn, because his son had been the scholar princeps, and twenty golds a month wouldn’t have hurt a wealthy hill holder, especially if the scholars were furthering Zorlyn’s interests. But what interests exactly? And how?

At the moment, Quaeryt didn’t have an answer to those questions, but he did know that, like it or not, he would have to ask for a similar payment from Straesyr and Rescalyn in order to keep the scholarium operating-just another task he wasn’t exactly anticipating with anything remotely resembling pleasure.

By midday on Solayi, Quaeryt was beginning to wonder what Phaeryn and Zarxes had been doing with their time. He had been through all the files and records in the studies that had belonged to the Master Scholar and the scholar princeps, and he’d found remarkably little correspondence. All the records of receipts and expenditures had been kept-apparently accurately and in great and clear detail-by Yullyd. Nalakyn handled the assignment of scholars who taught the students. While Zarxes had been the one to approve expenditures of more than two silvers at a time, there really weren’t that many, except for large orders of produce and meat.

What had they done, except plot?

He’d checked the weapons in the second armory, and only a handful were truly sharpened and oiled and in the very best of condition. He’d talked to the ostler, and discovered that the pair of riding horses assigned to the scholars hadn’t been used that much, and the pair of dray horses were used almost daily with the wagon for obtaining various supplies. The two geldings used by the Master Scholar and the scholar princeps were ridden almost daily, but where and for what purposes, the ostler didn’t know. Finally, after returning to the main building, Quaeryt summoned Nalakyn into the Master Scholar’s study.

“Sit down.” Quaeryt waited, then asked, “What exactly did the Master Scholar do?”

“He was the Master Scholar, sir.”

“I understand that. But you are the one who makes sure everything is done for the school. Yullyd handles receiving and paying out golds and keeping track of them. Chardyn and Alkiabys took care of Sansang training.… What did Phaeryn and Zarxes do?”

“They were in charge.”

“Did they often ask you about the students or the instruction you were arranging?”

“Master Scholar Phaeryn asked about each student’s progress several times each year. He also insisted that they all learn both Tellan and Bovarian reading and writing, and basic arithmetics, the fundamentals of philosophy and rhetoric…”

“What about history?”

“He said that was up to me, just so they knew the basics of Tilboran and Lydaran history.”

“What else?”

“I had to provide a written assessment of each student’s progress each year.”

“I understand that. What else do you know that Phaeryn did?”

“He rode a great deal,” ventured Nalakyn. “He never said where.”

Quaeryt raised his eyebrows.

“Well … he did say that he’d had to request that a factor pay for his son’s time at the Ecoliae. He said something like that more than once. He often came back from his rides and gave golds or silvers to Yullyd.”

Quaeryt nodded. He’d wondered about some of the “board/instruction” entries and their irregularity. “What else?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“What about Zarxes?”

“He was gone more often. Sometimes he was gone for days.”

“By himself or with others?”

“Sometimes with Chardyn.”

“Did all the factors always pay for their children’s education?”

“Always.” Nalakyn paused. “Sometimes, the Master Scholar had to pay them a visit.”

“What else?”

Quaeryt asked more questions. While Nalakyn was more than willing to answer, more often than not, he didn’t know very much about anything except the school and what the students were taught-that he knew in great detail. Finally, Quaeryt dismissed the precept and returned to studying the ledgers.

Much as he disliked the idea, he knew he needed to go to services that evening and listen to the ancient chorister, if only to set an example, and that thought kept nagging at him throughout the afternoon. The midfall sun had just touched the hills to the west when Quaeryt stepped through the old yellow-brick archway leading into the anomen. The antique oak doors had not been oiled since his last visit.