Treachery's Tools

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Akoryt frowned, concentrating, before finally replying. “I’ve visited the factorage often, but only once under a concealment in the last month. It was on Meredi, the fourth, and I wanted to see how Belsior was presenting the materials instructional to the primes. He’d only been working with them a few weeks.”

  “How did he do?”

  “Very well, I thought. He’ll do better, but that comes with practice.”

  “No other times?”

  “No … might I ask why?”

  “Charlina apparently can sense concealments. She certainly sensed mine. When I asked her about it, she told me that someone had been visiting the factorage under a concealment often in the last few weeks. She said that I’d never dropped the concealment before. That was true, because I hadn’t been there under a concealment.”

  Akoryt’s frown deepened.

  “As you can, I’d like you to approach Charlina at the factorage under concealment to see…”

  “If she really can sense a concealment?”

  “Exactly. If she can, it would be a valuable talent.”

  “You’re thinking of Desyrk?”

  Alastar nodded.

  “If she can?”

  “Then we may have another problem. I don’t like the idea of an advanced third or even a maitre using concealments that way without letting anyone know, and especially not letting me or you or Cyran know.”

  “Neither do I, sir. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thank you. That’s all I had.”

  Although his mind was still partly on Cransyr and the factors, not to mention the puzzle of the concealment, Alastar turned his attention, or most of it, to his copy of the Collegium’s master ledger, now kept in Maitre Thelia’s precise hand and script. While Thelia was doubtless far better at the accounts than Alastar would ever be, thanks to the training received from her mother, he still wanted to follow the expenditures and the modest income of the Collegium because they gave him a feel for what was happening in areas that he could not follow otherwise on a daily basis.

  At a quint before fifth glass, Alyna eased into Alastar’s study through the side door from the senior maitres’ conference room.

  Alastar stood immediately and moved toward her. He couldn’t help but smile as she appeared. “It’s good to see you.”

  “That means you’ve had a long day.” Her smile was sympathetic. “What happened?”

  “It began with a very hard meeting with High Holder Cransyr…” Alastar went over the details, ending with, “I got the definite impression that he was deliberately goading me.”

  “That’s possible. He’s not stupid, but he’s also known to be intransigent about things he believes in.”

  “Intransigent enough to make someone who could remove him in an instant really angry?”

  “You’ve made a point of being slow to anger, Maitre dear. At least in public.”

  “At least I’ve succeeded in publicly overcoming that fault.”

  “You also do well with Lystara.”

  “Even she is more reasonable than Cransyr or Hulet.” He grinned. “But then, she is your daughter.”

  “My father would have disagreed with you about my reasonableness. What else happened?”

  “I just received word of Zhelan’s death.”

  “You did? He wasn’t that old, as I recall.”

  “I never knew his exact age, but he wasn’t eighty yet. That poses another problem. Perhaps two. There aren’t any Maitres D’Esprit remaining at Westisle.”

  “There never have been many. You aren’t thinking of sending me?” The mischievous smile played across her lips.

  “Voltyrn and Choran deserve something like that … Voltyrn especially, but no, I’m not. You know I’d never let go of you … and that’s what you wanted to hear.” He put his arms around her.

  “A woman likes to be appreciated.” After holding him for several moments, she eased out of his arms. “Go on. You still have that look on your face.”

  “Voltyrn’s been angling to be maitre there. I’ve mentioned it before.”

  “That bothers you.”

  “It does. He was close to Zhelan, and you know how I felt about Zhelan’s views on training. Ancient quarrels, all because of tradition.” Alastar snorted.

  “There’s also the fact that anyone who needs to push himself forward might not be the best person for the position if everything were to be considered.”

  “Very possibly. I’m going to have to think about it.”

  “There’s more, I think. Bettaur?”

  “You thought about that, too?”

  “How could I not? It’s a rather odd coincidence that he asked to be sent there the day before you receive word of Zhelan’s death.”

  “It definitely is, but it just might be coincidence. Bettaur’s far too smart to set up something that would look that obvious. Even if somehow he knew of Zhelan’s death, and there’s a real question of how he could even find that out before I did, he would know that making such a request so soon would raise far too many questions. He’d know that it would be far better to ask after whatever decision I make on the Westisle Maitre. If I pick someone from here, he could then volunteer to accompany them.”

  Alyna nodded. “You’re right about that. But it is odd. What else?”

  “I was at the factorage this afternoon, observing the younger seconds imaging buttons. Linzya was supervising them. Then I saw Charlina, and she informed me that someone’s been using a concealment to observe students in the factorage. It wasn’t me or Akoryt or you…”

  Alyna said, “That’s worrisome. Do you have any idea who it might be?” She paused. “If you don’t know who it is, how do you know it was happening?”

  Alastar told her.

  When he finished, Alyna said, “Do you think Charlina can actually do that?”

  “I think so, but I’ve asked Akoryt to look into it and see if she can sense him.”

  Alyna nodded. “Good.”

  “You have news of your own, don’t you?”

  “I just received a letter from Zaeryl.” Alyna’s lips turned up slightly at the corners, although her voice was normal enough.

  “You occasionally do. This one must be different. What is on your brother’s mind? Or is something wrong?”

  “He’s going to pay us a visit.” Her noncommittal expression turned into an amused and wry smile. “You should read the letter yourself.” She slipped the folded sheet from her light gray summer jacket and handed it to him.

  Alastar took it and began to read.

  Dear Alyna,

  I’ve been remiss in writing. For that, I do apologize. The reason for that lack of sibling correspondence has been my preoccupation with several matters. I do trust you will understand, once I explain. I do not expect forgiveness, only understanding.

  First is the matter of the porcelain manufacturing facility. Maarak has encountered some unusual difficulties. The nature of these difficulties is unprecedented, and I would like the opportunity to discuss them with you and with the Maitre.

  Second is the matter of Malyna. She appears to take most strongly after her aunt, and a distant, if unrecognized, great-great-aunt …

  Alastar managed not to laugh.

  “You almost laughed,” said Alyna.

  “I see why you wanted me to read it.”

  “Go on. Finish it.”

  For these reasons, Malyna and I are traveling to L’Excelsis, and, while I could avail myself of the hospitality of others, I would prefer to be your guest, if this will not create any discomfort for you and your family. This journey will probably be the only one I will take to L’Excelsis at any time in the near or likely even the distant future. I would not be doing so if it were not necessary for the reasons I have mentioned, and several I have not.

  “There’s a family trait I see here,” Alastar said dryly. “Several, in fact. He doesn’t like to ask for assistance, either. Unless you see a reason to the contrary, your brother could certain
ly have the guest suite upstairs and Malyna the spare bedroom.” He paused. “How old is your niece?”

  “Twelve. Almost thirteen. She is his youngest, and was not expected.” Alyna smiled. “You didn’t finish.”

  Alastar resumed reading.

  By the time you receive this, we will be close to halfway to L’Excelsis … I would not intrude unnecessarily, but some of the matters also bear upon the Collegium, beyond the obvious personal ones, of course.…

  When he finished, he looked up. “I can’t say that I’m not worried by this. Your brother, from all that I’ve heard over the years, seldom is ruffled by events. For him to undertake the journey here…” He paused. “We could foster Malyna.”

  “I’d very much like to…”

  Alastar understood that. He also worried about how Alyna might feel if Malyna didn’t wish to be fostered.

  “… but it might not be for the best.”

  “You want to meet her and talk to Zaeryl?”

  Alyna nodded. “Also … Lystara might be a problem.”

  “Because she’s so precocious in her imaging? Your brother suggested that Malyna was like you. That would mean she’s talented.” Alastar could tell that his wife did not want to hope too much.

  “We need to see.”

  “We should tell Lystara.”

  “Tell me what, Father?” Lystara appeared in the main doorway to the study.

  Appeared rather than stepped into the doorway, Alastar realized. “How long have you been able to handle concealments?” He realized his tone was harsh and added far more gently, “I’m not angry, only surprised.”

  “Just today, Father.”

  “Why today?” asked Alyna.

  “Some of the thirds were talking about it this afternoon. Someone’s been using a concealment to visit the factorage. They said it was Father.” Lystara looked at Alastar. “I don’t think it was.”

  “Today it was,” Alastar admitted. “The other times it wasn’t.” He paused, then said, “Your mother and I would appreciate it if you would keep that to yourself for now … say for a month.”

  A slight frown creased Lystara’s forehead. “Is it important?”

  “It is,” replied Alyna. “How did you learn about concealments? Just from listening?”

  “It wasn’t hard. The other day Maitre Shaelyt was telling the junior maitres about light, and how what we see is just the light that reflects from things. I got to thinking that if the light didn’t reflect from me … if it avoided me … or sort of slid around me … then no one could see me.” Lystara smiled shyly. “That was right, wasn’t it?”

  “It was indeed,” declared Alastar. “Did Dareyn see you come in?”

  “Oh, no. I waited in the outside corridor until no one was around, and then I slid the light around me, except it wasn’t like that. I made a shield just for light, one that slid it around me. That’s much easier.”

  Alastar managed to keep his jaw in place. Few thirds could manage that kind of concealment, and not even all Maitres D’Aspect. “I think you’ve inherited your mother’s skills in imaging techniques.”

  “More likely your father’s,” said Alyna. “He was six when he first imaged things.”

  “Your technique, my age,” replied Alastar.

  “Father…” Lystara did not say more.

  “We should go home,” said Alyna. “You’re both looking pinkish in the eyes.” She glanced at her husband. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast, have you?”

  “I was a bit tied up with High Holder Cransyr.” Alastar offered an embarrassed smile. Alyna always focused on his eyes to determine his state of health … and nourishment. “You’re right. We should go.”

  Dareyn looked up as the three left the Maitre’s study. “My eyes must be getting old. I didn’t see Maitre Alyna and young Seconda Lystara enter the study.”

  “We came the other way,” said Lystara. “We didn’t want to bother you.”

  “It’s all right if we’re the ones intruding on the Maitre,” added Alyna with a smile. “Good evening, Dareyn.”

  “The same to you.”

  Once they were in the corridor, Alastar leaned toward his daughter, “Nicely phrased.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  Alastar straightened. You only thought the problems with Lystara were subsiding. Still … he smiled.

  4

  Later on Jeudi evening, well after Lystara had gone to sleep, Alastar and Alyna sat in the matching armchairs in the sitting room adjoining their bedchamber. A single oil lamp, set on the side table between their chairs, provided the only light.

  “She does take after you, dearest,” said Alyna gently. “She’s going to be far taller than I am, physically stronger, and she began imaging younger than I did.”

  “I could image coppers, but nothing like concealments,” offered Alastar.

  “You might have been able to, if you’d known what she knows when you were that young.”

  “She’s far more precise than I was,” protested Alastar. “That description of her concealment…”

  Alyna laughed softly. “So she takes after both of us. That’s likely to mean trouble.”

  “She couldn’t have been the one using concealments around the factorage. She’s never been free of supervision long enough…”

  “Also … it was her overhearing others talking that inspired her to try. I believe what she said. She’s not that devious.”

  “Yet,” added Alastar dryly.

  “You still are rather skeptical of women, dear.”

  “Not of you. Not of Tiranya, and not of a few others, like Seliora or Thelia … or Linzya.”

  “You’ve just named most of the maitres who are women.”

  Alastar found himself flushing. “You do have a way of bringing me up short.”

  “Only in private, and only when necessary.”

  “For which I’m thankful.”

  “Sometimes that comes later,” she added playfully.

  Wanting to change the subject, if slightly, Alastar mused, thoughtfully he hoped, “I wonder how Quaeryt and Vaelora managed with two daughters…”

  “You only mentioned one.”

  “There are references to two daughters, but there’s almost nothing about Vaerelya, except that she had ‘some imaging talent,’ according to Gauswn. Chaerilla was powerful enough to be senior imager for three maitres. They didn’t rank imagers by ability the way we do now, but with what she did, she had to be the equivalent of a Maitre D’Esprit or even a Maitre D’Image. There might have been more about her, but…”

  “Anything more would have been in the records that burned when Desyrk’s cannon put the old administration building to flames,” Alyna said. “Since our daughter can’t be the imager who’s prowling around under a concealment, who else do you think it might be?”

  “In theory, any senior maitre and most of the junior ones. We can leave out Llendyr and Petros. Petros can’t, and Llendyr can’t hold anything but a blurring concealment for any length of time. Narryn isn’t much better. As our daughter has shown, we also can’t limit the possibilities to maitres. There are likely some thirds who might have figured it out on their own. They’d have to be strong or with good technique.” Alastar frowned. “I can think of a number with the strength, but Linzya and Charlina, possibly Kaylet, are the only thirds with that kind of finesse.”

  “Kaylet’s the main assistant to Petros, and the stable’s close to the factorage.”

  “That’s possible, but he doesn’t seem the type.”

  “I’d agree, but … we just might be looking for someone who doesn’t seem the type. The type who would seem the most obvious is—”

  “Bettaur. But he knows we’d immediately think of him if he did something like that.”

  “I agree on that as well.”

  Alastar chuckled. “For now, we’ll have to leave it at that. What are your thoughts on the succession at Westisle?”

  “You know much more about that than I eve
r could. What do you think?”

  “I’m afraid that either Voltyrn or Choran will continue Zhelan’s practice of not challenging the younger imagers, and Westisle will end up the way Imagisle was before…” Alastar really didn’t want to finish the sentence.

  “Before you arrived and proceeded to upend everything for the better?”

  “That’s what I worry about.”

  “What about asking Smarthyl?”

  Alastar shook his head. “He’s got to be close to eighty. Even if he would take it, he likely wouldn’t live long enough before I’d have to find a successor for him.”

  “Cyran won’t do. He’s a dear man and a good senior imager for you, and Meiryl has done so much so quietly, but…”

  “He likes to be liked too much. He knows it, too. He’d do it if I asked, but he’d ask if it was a good idea.”

  “What about Taryn? He’s solid and doesn’t have that many ties here.”

  “He’s a possibility. I worry that he’s a bit like Cyran.”

  “I can see that, although he’d be better than Cyran. Who else is there? Anyone else with the ability to possibly become a Maitre D’Esprit is awfully young.”

  “You mean Arion or Shaelyt?”

  “Arion would be a good choice. I’m not sure I’d want to lose Tiranya and Shaelyt.”

  “Then there’s the problem of Bettaur,” Alyna said blandly.

  “He works hard, but only hard enough to get the job done.” Alastar didn’t have to mention that always pressing, if carefully, the limits of imaging ability was the only way for imagers to improve and strengthen their abilities. “Taurek’s more likely to become a Maitre D’Esprit than Bettaur. If he were ten years older, I’d consider him. He’s stubborn enough not to be worn down by imagers like Voltyrn and Choran.”

  “Oh … I forgot to tell you. Tiranya thinks that Linzya should be considered for Maitre D’Aspect in the next year.”

  “After she has her child, you mean?”