Free Madness in Solidar by L. E. Modesitt Jr. Page A

example Alastar intended to set. He wrote a different note to Petros.
    When he finished, he took the notes out to Dareyn. “These are to the senior imagers, including Obsolym, and to some of the Maitres D’Aspect. The notes are to be delivered personally. For your information, I’ve summoned them to meet me here tomorrow morning at eighth glass. I’d also like you to send word to Maitre Petros to have thirteen mounts ready for me and those imagers by a quint past eighth glass tomorrow.”
    â€œIt is Solayi, sir.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m delaying the meeting until eighth glass.”
    â€œWill you be needing anything else, sir?”
    â€œNot for the moment. At eighth glass, I’m going to see how Maitre Cyran is doing in overseeing weapons training with the junior thirds.” Alastar also wanted to continue his review of the imager assignments with Desyrk, but whether he could fit that in depended on how long he watched Cyran’s students and whether Desyrk would be punctual in leaving at noon—since noon on Samedi was the beginning of end-day, which lasted until services began in the anomen at sixth glass on Solayi evening.
    When he returned to his study, Alastar took out his copy of the master ledger, updated and returned weekly by Arhgen, to go over the Collegium accounts to see where spending might be cut, and just as important, what was being neglected. He had jotted down several areas where he needed to look into changes in Collegium spending when Dareyn knocked on the door, then opened it slightly.
    â€œThere’s a courier from the Chateau D’Rex, Maitre.”
    A courier from the rex most likely meant trouble, and Dareyn’s absolutely calm tone of voice suggested the old secondus had the same opinion.
    â€œHave him come in, if you would.”
    Dareyn opened the study door wide, stood back to let the courier enter, and then closed it, leaving the courier alone with Alastar.
    The courier—a young man in the yellow-trimmed green jacket and trousers of a chateau guard—stepped into the study. “Maitre … sir?”
    â€œYes? I take it you have a message for me.”
    â€œYes, sir.” The guard swallowed.
    Alastar had a good idea what was coming. “Yes?”
    â€œRex Ryen would appreciate your immediate attendance at the chateau, sir.”
    â€œWere those his exact words?” Before the stunned guard could reply, Alastar held up his hand. “You don’t have to answer that. As soon as I can get a mount saddled, we can ride back together. That might be for the best. If you’d wait out front for me, I’ll join you shortly.”
    â€œYes, sir.” The courier didn’t sound happy.
    Believe me, young man, you’ll be far happier arriving with me. Alastar stood and walked to the door, opening it and gesturing for the courier to precede him. “Dareyn, send word to the stables that I’ll need my horse saddled, and two escorts to accompany me.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Alastar turned to the courier. “I’ll meet you in front as soon as my mount arrives.”
    The courier nodded, almost glumly, then turned and walked from the anteroom out into the corridor, then toward the main entry.
    â€œDid the courier say what the rex wanted, sir?”
    â€œDoes he ever let anyone know? I’m just expected to attend him instantly.” Alastar offered a crooked smile. “It could be anything. Oh … and would you send a messenger over to Cyran to tell him where I’m going to be?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Less than a tenth of a glass later, Alastar mounted the gray gelding and rode away from the central green on the Collegium beside the courier, with the two imager thirds behind them.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” Alastar asked the guard.
    â€œLlasel, sir.”
    â€œHow long have you been a guard and courier at the chateau?”
    â€œI was a page for three