L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

“I can understand why the High Holders might want that. Did anyone speak against the provision?”

“How could they? No one but the Council even knew about the change. I doubt if any factors or guild Councilors really care about what happens in a High Holder’s family.”

“Would any other change have made a bigger effect than was obvious?”

“There was one…” mused Baratyn. “Under the final law, any low justice sentence that results in permanent injury to the malefactor may be appealed to the Solidaran regional justicer for damages. Suyrien insisted that, when appeals were denied, the malefactor be held responsible for a minimum of one third of the costs of the appeal.”

“Those living on High Holder lands couldn’t afford anything like even a tenth of those costs,” I pointed out. “That would greatly reduce the number of appeals, especially for those with families. It might even effectively stop them altogether. And no one in the Council said anything?”

“Councilor Hemwyt objected, and Suyrien pointed out that without some cost-sharing, every case where a malefactor could prove any sort of injury of the most minor sort would end up being appealed. In the end, Suyrien agreed to reduce the cost-share to one fifth, and the measure was passed that way.”

“Were there any other ‘minor’ changes?”

“Some were technical corrections, changes in terms, but there was one other. It required, for purposes of evaluations and levies, that all property be assessed in value at market value on the thirty-fifth of Finitas each year. There was some considerable debate on that, but the factors and the guilds all agreed with Suyrien. Once they saw the language they immediately wanted it adopted.”

“The last day of the year has always been the traditional date for assessments and valuations for everyone else,” I pointed out. “I imagine that’s why they liked the idea.”

“Some of the High Holders-as I recall, Haestyr and Regial-protested that it didn’t take into account that agricultural goods are valued at harvest prices, and that lands are valued off of crop yields.”

There was definitely something there, but I’d have to look into that. Ferlyn might be able to help me. “Who would have been affected by that? Besides Haestyr and Regial?”

“In practice, it would have hurt all the High Holders who only have lands and herds, such as those north of Cloisonyt or in the prairies and woods of the northwest. It might affect those around Asseroiles, like Haestyr.”

Certainly every High Holder would have favored the first two changes, but would the third one have angered another High Holder enough to have him break the traditional practice of never using direct violence against another High Holder? Or would one of the wealthier factors or one of the guild representatives have wanted Suyrien dead because he was effective in subtly undermining reforms of the worst abuses by High Holders?

“Do you know why Suyrien wanted the valuation change?”

“He only said that he felt a uniform system of valuation was necessary, one that treated factors, crafters, shop keepers, and High Holders in the same fashion, and one that didn’t include speculation in valuation.”

That sounded like Suyrien. “Do you have any ideas about what he really had in mind?”

Baratyn shook his head. “He must have had something in mind, but what ever it was, I never knew.”

I could believe that. “I have a duty coach. Would you like to ride with me to the anomen for Suyrien’s memorial service?”

“I’d appreciate that, sir.”

I stood, and we walked out through the security doors and gate to the coach.

Baratyn said nothing, even after we were moving away from the Chateau.

“Do you have any idea who might have arranged for Suyrien’s shooting?” I finally asked.

He shook his head. “It took place at his L’Excelsis estate, not here. I was told that he was walking down to the boat house on the river.”

That made sense, because getting close to a High Holder on his own estate would have been difficult, while the river was open to anyone with a boat. Still…someone had to have reconnoitered the estate in order to know from where on the river what part of the estate could be vulnerable to a sniper.

Although we arrived almost a quint before the service was to begin, over a hundred people were already standing in the anomen, and murmurs filled the hall. I eased over to the left, almost against the wall some three yards back from the first line of those who were already there. I didn’t see Maitre Dyana, but I hadn’t expected her. Maitre Rholyn was in the second rough row back, but on the far side of the anomen from us. I didn’t see anyone else from the Collegium, although I did see Glendyl and Caartyl, on opposite sides of the hall. There was no one in military uniform, either.

As the bells struck the glass, the family walked in from the left side and stood in a line facing the front of the anomen.

I didn’t know the chorister who stepped up to the pulpit. That wasn’t surprising, since I’d never attended services at the Council Anomen. He was tall and thin, with silvering hair. “We are gathered here together this afternoon in the spirit of the Nameless, in affirmation of the quest for goodness and mercy in all that we do, and in celebration of the life of Suyrien D’Alte, High Holder and Councilor of Solidar, a man distinguished in all that he did.”

The opening hymn was “The Glory of the Nameless.” I sang, but as quietly as possible. Beside me, Baratyn sang even more softly, if that were indeed possible.

Then came the confession.

“We do not name You, for naming is a presumption, and we would not presume upon the creator of all that was, is, and will be….” As the words of the confession echoed through the anomen, I glanced around, my eyes coming to rest on Suyrien’s family at the front, a silver-haired woman flanked by Frydryk and Alynkya on one side and by Kandryl and Iryela on the other, with a younger woman, who was probably a sister, beside Iryela.

“In peace and harmony,” came the response.

After that came the charge from the chorister. “Life is a gift from the Nameless, for from the glory of the Nameless do we come; through the glory of the Nameless do we live, and to that glory do we return. Our lives can only reflect and enhance that glory, as did that of Suyrien, whom we honor, whom we remember, and who will live forever in our hearts and in the glory of the Nameless.”

Another hymn followed-“Honor Has No Name.”

“No honor bears a name, for in acts alone lies virtue,

Nameless is the goodness that prompts the best in all they do…”

I agreed with the sentiments and words of the hymn, but both the music and the words were strained, as often was the case when philosophy or religion mixed with music.

Then the chorister said, “Now we will hear from Frydryk D’Suyrien, speaking for the family.”

The memorial service would be the last time Frydryk would be called that publicly. After the service, he would be Suyrien D’Alte, probably called “Young Suyrien” for a time. As was the custom, Frydryk did not take the pulpit, but the topmost step of the sacristy dais. He faced the more than two hundred people who had come to pay their respects to the family, or more accurately, I suspected, to sign the registry to ensure that their presences were known to the family.

Frydryk had to clear his throat several times before he finally began. “My father, above all, was an honorable man. He believed in honor in word and deed above all else. From the time we were children, he stressed the importance of honor. He believed that even true love was not possible if a man and woman did not enter into it with honor…”