Embrayt nodded. “My second son. He is sharp of mind and wit, but…”
“His talents do not lie in your factoring?”
“One leg is not as it should be.”
“I do understand.”
“I noticed.…”
Quaeryt nodded. “It has been that way from when I was young, perhaps from birth. How old is your son?”
“He will be twelve in Finitas.”
“Would he be amenable to being separated from his family?”
“He would miss us, I am certain. He would not miss those of his age.”
Quaeryt also understood that. “Would you like to speak to Scholar Nalakyn about the course of study?”
Embrayt smiled and shook his head. “There is no need. That, I knew before I came. I wished to meet you before we decided. Now I can talk to Emdahl and hope he will agree that his future lies in study.” The factor rose.
Quaeryt stood as well. “We will wait on your decision.”
“We will see.” The factor nodded and turned to leave the study.
Quaeryt moved quickly so that he could escort Embrayt out, and the two walked side by side down the corridor. Quaeryt did open the front door, but he stopped at the top of the steps.
The factor stopped as well, then nodded to Quaeryt. “Good day, master scholar.”
“The same to you, and a pleasant ride home.”
When Embrayt walked down the steps, Quaeryt turned his study on the waiting coach-painted or stained dark brown with brass trimmings and drawn by a marched pair of chestnuts. The coachman was also dressed in brown. With such a carriage, Embrayt had to be well off, if not more so.
What does he factor? That wasn’t the sort of question that he could have asked under the circumstances, but he did wonder as he watched the team and coach leave the scholarium.
“Sir?”
Quaeryt turned to see Lankyt standing at the edge of the porch near the steps.
“Yes, Lankyt?”
“Some of the others say the governor is going to close down the Ecol-I mean, the scholarium. That’s because he hates the scholars.”
“One never should guess about what is in someone’s mind or thoughts. I won’t, but I will say that, if the governor wanted to close the scholarium, why would he order me to restructure it so that it is like all the other good scholaria in Telaryn? He could far more easily have instructed me to proceed with closing it down and turning out the scholars and students.”
“He still could, sir.”
“He could indeed. Is that likely when Lord Bhayar has dispatched a scholar to Tilbor?”
Lankyt frowned, then said quickly, jabbing a finger in the direction of the departing coach, “Is one of his sons going to study here?”
“He is considering it.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Embrayt. He’s a factor.”
“He’s wealthy, then.”
“I imagine so, with that coach and team.”
“No … I’ve heard his name. He owns a brick factorage and a produce factorage, and some other things, too.”
Quaeryt nodded. “What else have you heard?”
“That’s all.” Another pause followed. “Are you going to stay as Master Scholar?”
“For a time, anyway. Lord Bhayar sent me to be an assistant to the princeps. Even if I go back to the Telaryn Palace, I’d probably still be charged with dealing with the scholarium.”
“Lankyt?” called a youthful voice from the east end of the porch.
“I’m coming,” replied the student loudly, before turning back to Quaeryt and saying in a much lower voice, “Good day, sir.”
Quaeryt couldn’t help smiling as the young man hurried off.
74
Solayi arrived, and the day passed with no messages and no word from the palace, from either Straesyr or the governor. The lack of communication tended to confirm that Quaeryt wasn’t in the best of graces with either man, but that neither wanted to act against him directly, and until one, especially the governor, or the other could, he was relegated to reforming the scholarium. As part of that effort, he devoted himself, among other matters, to writing out a set of principles for the scholars of the scholarium.
As the time for services approached, he put down the pen, rose from the table desk, and stretched. Then he left the study and walked to the rear porch, since the way to the anomen was shorter from there. He was halfway across the porch when Nalakyn hurried up to join him.
“Are you going to services, master scholar?”
“I am.”
“Might I accompany you?”
“Of course.” Quaeryt understood that Nalakyn wanted to bring up something.
“Do you know how long you will be … posted here as Master Scholar?”
“No. Neither the princeps nor the governor has said.”
“You have named me as acting princeps…”
Quaeryt understood. “You think that I should formalize who will be in charge in my absence?”
“It would make matters clearer.”
Quaeryt smiled faintly. “I can and will write out a plan of succession, but it will be good only with the approval of the governor. It will also only be good for one year after my permanent departure. After that, as in every other scholarium in Telaryn, the Master Scholar must be approved by a majority of the scholars over the age of thirty. I trust that will suffice.”
“Ah … yes, sir.”
“I will also make your position as scholar princeps official, but you will continue as preceptor of students as well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’m glad you brought it up.” And Quaeryt was. What Nalakyn had suggested was something Quaeryt should have done earlier, just to give the scholarium the best chance of survival if anything happened to him. “One other thing-I’m also working on a set of principles for the scholarium. When I’ve finished the first draft, I’d like your thoughts about any additions or changes you’d like me to consider.”
“Yes, sir. I’d be happy to look it over. Perhaps Yullyd…”
“I’ll have him look at it as well.”
Quaeryt didn’t have much more to say, and they were almost at the anomen. He just walked in and stood on the left side, about halfway back. Even so, when Cyrethyn appeared, his eyes flicked to Quaeryt, and the chorister gave the faintest of nods.
As usual, Quaeryt did not sing out loudly, but watched the scholars and students. More than a few cast glances in his direction. When the time came for the homily, he waited, wondering if Cyrethyn would deliver what he suggested.
After the opening for the homily, the chorister left no doubt.
“Earlier this week, I visited the Master Scholar. I owe this homily to him. He raised a question that I never heard stated so directly. Can an honest man be evil? Or can he do evil while being honest? My immediate thought was that such was not possible. Yet the more I thought about it, the less convinced I became. What if such a man were honestly convinced that what he did was for the best? Could he not tell the honest truth and still do evil?
“We do not think this is possible because in the life most of us live, we cannot be evil and lie. If you ask the miller if he has given you fair value, he cannot cheat you and give honest reply. Nor can the weaver give you cloth with a thread count that cheats you without lying, if he is asked. But what of those we cannot ask? What of those whose words are true, yet whose actions in accord with those words lead to evil?
“A holder tells his tenants that they must give more of their crop yield to him because his costs have risen. He tells the truth, but is that increased tariff not evil for those tenants? The lord of a land goes to battle, saying the battle is necessary. Even if he tells the truth, does that battle not cause evil for many who are innocent? The words and the names are spoken in truth. Yet evil follows.
“In a similar fashion, that is why Naming can be so evil. We can name a person or a thing honestly, but the name we give it, and the respect we pay that name, conceals its evil. The glory of battle and the tales of heroism conceal the evil of the deaths of young men who believed they were doing right … or doing what they had to do, trying to survive. Increasing one’s profits honestly, if one is a merchant or a factor, is said to be good. If he does so by increasing his prices, that is an honest act, done openly. Yet if those who must buy his goods are poor and in bad times, that honest act is evil for them, even as it may be necessary for the merchant to keep his shop.