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For Dashiell
CHARACTERS
REX
LORIEN D’REX Rex of Solidar
CHELIA’D’LORIEN Lorien’s wife, sister of High Holder Ryel
CHARYN D’LORIEN Eldest son of Lorien
BHAYRN D’LORIEN Second son of Lorien
ALORYANA D’LORIEN Daughter of Lorien
HIGH HOLDERS
AISHFORD D’ALTE Nordeau
BRUESSYRD D’ALTE Liantiago
CAEMRYN D’ALTE Yapres
CAERVYN D’ALTE Fleuryn
CALKORAN D’ALTE Vaestora
CRANSYR D’ALTE Head, High Holder’s Council, Ilyum
DELCOEUR D’ALTE L’Excelsis
GUERDYN D’ALTE Nacliano
HAEBYN D’ALTE Piedryn
LAEVORYN D’ALTE L’Excelsis
MOERYN D’ALTE Khelgror
MEINYT D’ALTE High Councilor, Alkyra
NACRYON D’ALTE Mantes
NUALT D’ALTE Barna
OLEFSYRT D’ALTE High Councilor, Noira
PAELLYT D’ALTE Sommeil
REGIAL D’ALTE Montagne
RUELYR D’ALTE Ruile
RYEL D’ALTE Rivages
SOUVEN D’ALTE High Councilor, Dueraan
STAENDEN D’ALTE High Councilor, Tacqueville
THYSOR D’ALTE Extela
THURL D’ALTE Extela
VAUN D’ALTE Tilbora
ZAERLYN D’ALTE Rivages, brother of Alyna
IMAGERS
AKORYT Maitre D’Structure
ALASTAR Maitre D’Image
ALYNA Maitre D’Esprit, wife of Alastar
ARION Maitre D’Structure
CYRAN Maitre D’Esprit, Senior Imager
GAELLEN Maitre D’Structure, healer
KHAELIS Maitre D’Structure
OBSOLYM Maitre D’Structure
SHAELYT Maitre D’Structure
TARYN Maitre D’Structure
TIRANYA Maitre D’Structure
ARTHOS Maitre D’Aspect
BELSIOR Maitre D’Aspect
BETTAUR Maitre D’Aspect
CELIENA Maitre D’Aspect
CHERVYT Maitre D’Aspect
CLAEYND Maitre D’Aspect
DYLERT Maitre D’Aspect
JULYAN Maitre D’Aspect
LHENDYR Maitre D’Aspect
NARRYN Maitre D’Aspect
PETROS Maitre D’Aspect, stablemaster
SELIORA Maitre D’Aspect
TAUREK Maitre D’Aspect
THELIA Maitre D’Aspect, Collegium bookkeeper
WARRYK Maitre D’Aspect
CHARLINA Tertia
DAREYN Secondus, Aide to Maitre
ISKHAR Chorister of the Collegium
KAYLET Tertius, assistant stablemaster
LYNZIA Tertius
LYSTARA Seconda, daughter of Alastar and Alyna
ZHELAN Maitre of Westisle Collegium
FACTORS
CUIPRYN D’FACTORIUS Brass/copper
DUURMYN D’FACTORIUS Livestock, stockyards
ELTHYRD D’FACTORIUS Timber, lumber, Factors’ Council
ESTAFEN D’FACTORIUS Banque D’Excelsis
GOERYND D’FACTORIUS Pumps, plows, implements, Factors’ Council
HULET D’FACTORIUS Grain and maize, Chief, Factors’ Council
KARL D’FACTORIUS Iron, smelting
KATHILA D’FACTORIA Spices, scents, and oils, Factors’ Council
MAARTYN D’FACTORIUS Brick and stone
NAATHYN D’FACTORIUS Coaches, carriages, wagons
VASCHET D’FACTORIUS Machinery and armaments
WEEZYR D’FACTORIUS Banque D’Aluse
WYLUM D’FACTORIUS Woolens and cloth, Factors’ Council
OTHERS
HEHNSYN D’CORPS Subcommander, procurement, son of High Holder Cransyr
HEISYT D’PATROL Captain, Civic Patrol
LYTARRL D’ANOMEN Chorister, Anomen D’Excelsis, brother of Elthyrd
MARRYT D’CORPS Commander, Chief of Staff, son of High Holder Caervyn
MAUREK D’CORPS Commander
MURRANYT D’PATROL Commander, Civic Patrol, L’Excelsis
SAERLET D’ANOMEN Chorister, Anomen D’Rex
TYNAN D’NAVIA Sea Marshal
VAELLN D’CORPS Vice Marshal
WILKORN D’CORPS Marshal of the Armies
1
In the deep gray before dawn on Mardi morning, Alastar stood at the bedchamber window. Beyond the glass, water poured out of the sky in a rush that suggested a waterfall more than mere rain. So heavy was the downpour that Alastar could barely make out the stone-paved walkway that led from the covered porch below the window south toward the center of the Collegium, but he didn’t have to see in order to know that the twin lanes flanking the green that led past the cottages of the master imagers were at least boot-deep in rushing water being channeled to the River Aluse, a river that, after the continual rains of the past week, was less than two yards from the top of the high granite riverwalls that surrounded Imagisle. So much rain in late Agostos was bound to destroy much of the grain harvest in the areas around L’Excelsis—and everywhere the near-continual downpour had struck.
As if matters weren’t unsettled enough.
He turned from the window to find that Alyna was sitting on the side of the bed looking at him.
“You’re not going running in that, I hope?”
Alastar shook his head. “Running in drizzle or light rain is one thing. Running through a torrent is another.”
“Sometimes…” Alyna paused. “You’re worried … again.”
He nodded. “The rains … and Chief Factor Hulet … and High Holder Cransyr. I’m afraid matters are going to get worse.”
“You’ll figure a way through it.” Her words were warm.
Alastar just looked at her for a long moment, a slender, almost petite woman, with short brown hair and black eyes … and with physical strength, determination, and imaging ability so at odds with her appearance, as many had discovered, at times fatally. He chuckled. “No … we’ll find a way through it.”
Less than a glass later, after a hot breakfast, Alastar and Alyna stood in the front foyer as their daughter, Lystara, hurried down the stairs toward the front door.
“Don’t forget to wear your waterproof,” said Alyna evenly. “And don’t make that face again. I know the oilskin coat smells of fish oil. That’s what keeps the rain from soaking through.”
“And don’t forget your oiled boots, either,” added Alastar, “the way you did so conveniently yesterday.”
“You don’t—” Lystara broke off her words abruptly, her black eyes going from her father to her mother and bac
k again.
“Don’t understand?” Alastar’s voice was dry. He wasn’t about to mention that he and Alyna already wore the less than stylish and rather odoriferous oiled boots.
“The other seconds…” Lystara began, then stopped.
“The other seconds don’t have to walk half a mille in ankle-deep water. They might get damp running from the dining hall to the administration building. You’ll be soaked all the way through, and if you keep imaging the water out of your grays the way you did yesterday, you’ll destroy the cloth, and all your coppers won’t be enough to pay for new grays.” Alastar managed to keep his voice level, a far harder chore with his own daughter than with the imagers over whom he served as the Collegium Maitre.
“Getting soaked and chilled won’t help your health or your studies,” added Alyna.
Lystara tried not to frown. “It’s just water.”
“As your father has pointed out more than once, Lystara dear, there is water in everything. You’re not skilled enough as an imager to take out just enough water.”
“Mother…” Lystara’s voice turned pleading. “Everyone will think I’m a baby. I’m already the youngest by two years anyway.”
“You didn’t want to be held back with the primes,” Alyna pointed out.
“I’m as good an imager as some of the thirds.” At the look on Alastar’s face, Lystara quickly added, “I know I shouldn’t be a third yet, but I just couldn’t stay with the primes. I wasn’t learning anything … or not much. It was too painful.”
Alastar understood all too well what she meant. “We gave you the choice of whether you wanted to stay a prime.” The fact that their daughter was barely ten had concerned both Alyna and him, although she was already as tall as many of the seconds, and taller than a few, but Lystara had pushed.
“If you can’t do what’s right and what’s right for your health now when it’s just a matter of what you wear…” began Alastar.
“Lystara dear, would you like your father to walk you to the administration building?”
The dark-haired ten-year-old stiffened. “No, thank you. I can stand up for myself.” She turned and walked to the front foyer, seated herself on the bench, and pulled on the oiled calf-high boots. Then she stood and took the hooded oilskin cloak off the peg and slipped it on. Finally, she turned to her parents. “There are two other oilskin cloaks in the back closet.” She grinned, then turned and hurried out the front door.
“Shall we go?” asked Alastar, turning to Alyna.
“Of course. After you fetch the oilskins.”
They both laughed.
In moments, Alastar returned with the oilskins, fishy as they smelled, and the two stepped out onto the covered porch. Although Alastar and Alyna had to be at the administration building at seventh glass, as did Lystara, for the past year their daughter had insisted on walking alone. In turn, Alastar had insisted that, if Lystara wished to go by herself, she needed to leave before her parents.
As Alastar stepped out into the sheeting rain, he said, “She takes after both of us.” Before Alyna could reply, he went on, “Your looks and quick wit, my stubbornness, and both of our imaging abilities.”
“She does have a certain firmness of will, but her similarity to me, dearest, is limited largely to her hair and eyes.”
“She has your mouth and lips, too.”
“And your chin and bones. She’s already tall, even taller than some of the other seconds. That makes fitting in harder for her.”
“Besides being our daughter,” Alastar added, “and knowing too much too soon and being too much in a hurry to grow up.”
“We’ve pushed her a bit.”
“As I recall, my dearest, we agreed on that.”
Alyna did not quite sigh. “I don’t think we had that much choice.”
Left unspoken were the other problems Lystara would face.
“What are you going to bring up at the senior imagers’ meeting?” asked Alyna after several moments.
“Lorien will likely request that we repair some of the damage caused by the rains, especially in L’Excelsis.”
“He’ll ask for us to repair all of it, and you’ll have to decline doing everything, if only on principle.”
Alastar inclined his head. “Thank you for spelling out my position.” He smiled broadly before reaching out and taking her hand for a moment.
“Who else would dare?” She returned his smile with one of her own that held a hint of impish mischief.
“Arion would, if politely. Tiranya or Shaelyt might.”
“Might is a very accurate way of putting it.”
Alastar laughed. So did Alyna.
When the two reached the administration building, Alastar watched for a moment as Alyna headed toward the stairs to the upper level and her study. He still never tired of watching her. Then he made his way from the entry hall down the corridor and into the antechamber to the Maitre’s study.
Dareyn, the white-haired secondus who had served as Alastar’s only clerk and assistant from the time he had become Maitre, smiled warmly. “I’m glad to see you wore oilskins, sir. It’s like walking through a cataract out there.”
“My daughter and my wife didn’t leave me much choice with the oilskins.”
“Neither did Elmya,” replied Dareyn.
“Any messages from anyone?”
“Nothing so far, sir.”
“The rain may have slowed them.”
Dareyn frowned.
“I can’t imagine any good coming from a week of solid heavy rain, but I could be mistaken.” Alastar took off the oilskin cloak and walked to the heavy wooden rack at one side of the anteroom where he hung it next to Dareyn’s. “I’m sorry for the smell.”
“Two’s no worse than one.”
Alastar smiled at his assistant’s words. “I’m going to check one thing in the study. Then I’ll be in the conference room. Just have the seniors come in as they arrive.”
Dareyn nodded.
Alastar stepped into the study, gloomy because of the weather and the fact that none of the lamps was lit. He didn’t bother imaging one into light. That would just have wasted lamp oil. He opened the second desk drawer and slipped out the folder with his notes for the meeting, then walked to the side door of the study that led into the conference room, opened it, and then closed it behind him. He walked to the head of the long table. Rather than sit, he stood beside his chair, thinking.
Less than a fraction of a quint later, the door from the hall opened, and the first of the senior imagers entered—the ancient Obsolym, white-haired, his face gaunt, but with watery blue eyes that missed nothing. “Good morning, Maitre.”
“Good morning, you ancient troublemaker.”
“The same to you, most venerable font of destruction.”
Alastar couldn’t help grinning at Obsolym’s gruff words, although both of them knew that neither would have exchanged quite the same set of pleasantries had anyone else been present.
“I’ll be seeing your daughter at eighth glass.”
“Don’t let her argue or charm you out of learning her history.”
“So far that hasn’t been a problem. She seems to want to know more about everything.”
Alastar frowned. “She’s not being a know-it-all, is she?”
Obsolym shook his head. “She’s quiet, but not too quiet. She’s been reading history on the side … or one of you has been tutoring her.”
“No. Whenever she asks a question, I tell her where she might look to find the answer.” Alastar would have said more, but Cyran, the senior imager of the Collegium, stepped into the conference room, followed by Akoryt and Alyna. In moments, the other senior imagers, those ranked as Maitre D’Structure or higher, had entered and seated themselves at the long table, with Cyran on Alastar’s right and Alyna on his left, not because she was his wife, but because she and Cyran were the only Maitres D’Esprit at the Collegium—and that was more than had been at the Collegium in more than a generation
… or perhaps since the time of the first Maitre.
Alastar looked down the table, taking in the ten other imagers. Even thirteen years after he’d taken over as Maitre, there were too few senior imagers. But there are many new junior maitres and a goodly number of solid thirds. Those thoughts reminded him of just how hard—and time-consuming—it was to rebuild something. And how quickly things can deteriorate under poor leadership and adverse conditions. He cleared his throat. “The good news is that no new difficulties have been brought to the attention of the Collegium. The bad news is that there will be.” He offered a wry smile. “The rains have brought the River Aluse to the highest flood stage in hundreds of years. Recent dispatches from the west indicate that both the Phraan River and the River Laar are flooding as well. For the most part, the land on both sides of the Laar south from Laaryn is flat. Much of it is fertile bottomland, but when the river rises…”
“The bottomland floods,” finished Obsolym. “Happens every ten years or so. Just long enough that no one remembers how bad it was.”
“This time looks worse than ever,” added Alastar. “What’s more of a problem is that last year was so dry there isn’t much grain laid up.”
“They had a bumper crop in Piedryn last year, and the harvest there is good this year,” said Shaelyt.
“That’s part of the problem,” replied Alastar. “Some of the large grain factors here in L’Excelsis and in Ferravyl bought everything they could last year and have again this year, even taking contracts on grain that hasn’t been harvested. And that was before the rains came, when it looked like the price would stay low.”
“Sir…” began Khaelis, one of the more junior Maitres D’Structure. “I can see that this will make life very hard on the poor, and on some members of the Guilds…”
“You’re wondering what it has to do with the Collegium, I take it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Alastar would have been happy to explain at length, but a shorter answer was better for the moment. “The droughts of the past few years have left little grain here in the west of Solidar. The High Holders here in old Bovaria sold most of their surplus stocks earlier this year, and made a handsome profit on that grain. The larger grain factors held their stocks, Chief Factor Hulet, especially. They wagered on another bad harvest, and they bought up much of the harvest from Piedryn and the lands around Ferravyl. Now, a number of those High Holders will have to buy grain, and possibly other produce, on the terms set by the factors. Some will have difficulty in raising the golds. They may have to borrow.…” Alastar nodded to Alyna for her to continue.
Treachery's Tools Page 1
