Imager's Intrigue: The Third Book of the Imager Portfolio

by Modesitt, L. E. , Jr.

  “To me,” I finished. “I assume there are reports somewhere that I can read and catch up on?”

  He laughed. “You get a copy of the monthly report from every Civic Patrol Commander in Solidar—from every city big enough to have a Commander, rather than a captain. You also get a monthly report from every regional.”

  “What about High Holders, or more important factors? Do we have information on them?”

  “There are files on the High Holders who serve on the Council, as well as those who have served, and others who have come to our attention. We only have files on fifteen or twenty factors.” He shook his head. “We do our best, but there’s no way to keep records on more than a thousand High Holders and tens of thousands of factors. The ones we do have are all in the cases in the study. You’ll need to image the hidden catches…”

  I listened as he explained in more detail the regional imager network that I’d known existed, but little more than that.

  After a glass, he leaned back. “Any questions about this?”

  “No. I’m sure I will, once I read through everything and think about it. What’s most urgent that I should keep in mind as I try to get on top of matters?”

  Schorzat chuckled, if nervously. “The biggest problem is the Ferran support of the more militant freeholders. That’s a guess, of course.”

  “I assume that we have no proof of an actual connection, since, if we did, you’d already have done something about it.”

  “We’ve discovered and dealt with, in one way or another, over twenty agents. So far there’s barely circumstantial evidence of a connection with any others we suspect.”

  “Blast patterns similar to or identical to Ferran demolitions…that sort of thing?”

  He nodded, then went on. “Here’s what we do know….”

  I listened as, again, he provided detail after detail, not once repeating himself, for more than half a glass. In the end, though, he had provided a wealth of events, discoveries, and possible connections—yet without a single concrete linkage to either factors or freeholders. I had a far greater breadth of understanding, but the structure looked to be what I’d already pieced together from my own observations as a Patrol Captain and from my reading of the newsheets. At the same time, I had the feeling that there were events and actions that didn’t fit—like the grain explosions and the bombard attack on Imagisle…and the growth and distribution of the stronger elveweed, which I suspected lay more with Stakanaran origins.

  When he finished, I was the one to nod, then say, “Thank you. You mentioned the riots in Westisle, Estisle, Solis, and Kherseilles. I’ve heard that all have started in the local taudis, and some were sparked by rumors that imagers and Pharsis have been doing the dirty work for the High Holders.”

  “That I hadn’t heard, but it would fit. The Ferrans will use anything.”

  “So where are the Jariolan agents?”

  He smiled sadly. “We don’t know for certain, but we’ve tracked several suspicious persons to the estates and lands of various High Holders.”

  “Such as Haebyn?”

  “He’s one. There are several there.”

  “Haestyr? Shaercyt?”

  “Both of them. Also, Nacryon and Ealthyn. There are others, but those are the most likely.”

  I knew Nacryon was from Mantes and had interests in copper and tin, as well as a new process that created artificial fertilizer from potash and other mineral deposits. I’d never heard of Ealthyn. “Why would the Jariolans want Ealthyn as a supporter?”

  “We don’t know yet. In fact, I’d never heard of him, either, until we tracked some former sailors to his lands. They made the mistake of cutting through a taudis in Piedryn. They walked out untouched, but there were six bodies in various alleys.”

  “Do you think Ealthyn and Haebyn are working together?”

  “I’m certain they are. We can’t prove it.” Schorzat shrugged.

  “Did Master Dichartyn ever talk to you about the possibility that a trader or factor named Alhazyr might be involved with certain dubious matters involving Caartyl?”

  “He did, but we don’t have contacts in Mantes right now…and what with the way things turned out…”

  I understood that. “I take it that he’s probably more than someone who just wants public representatives added to the Council?”

  “Most likely, but he’s very careful.”

  “What about Stakanar?”

  “We’ve found some agents, but Solidar’s a little cool for them.”

  “They might be behind the elveweed.”

  “They probably are, but if that’s so, someone’s shielding them.”

  “Like Ruelyr?”

  “That would be hard to find out.”

  “See what you can do.” I laughed. “Along with everything else.”

  He smiled wryly.

  “What can you tell me about Sea-Marshal Geuffryt? And about his relationship with Madame D’Shendael?”

  “I understand they’re related in some way, but not all that closely. I could give you his biography and his impressive credentials, but that would obscure more than it would reveal. He’s a capable Naval officer. He’s more than capable in terms of intelligence.”

  “Why didn’t he know more about what was happening with the bombards and the stolen Poudre B?”

  “The Army didn’t tell anyone. The Depot Commander either didn’t know or covered it up. It’s likely to be the latter, since he vanished a month ago.”

  “When did you and Dichartyn find this out?”

  “He started probing into it right after Maitre Poincaryt told him…you were there, weren’t you?”

  I had to think for a moment. “That was on the twenty-sixth.”

  “Then he found out on the thirty-second. It was just short of a week later.”

  “I think I need to have a private meeting with Geuffryt.” I paused. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t? Or would it be better for the two of us to meet with him?”

  “He won’t say anything if he meets with more than one person.”

  “So he can deny that he said it, if necessary?”

  Schorzat smiled. “So that no denial is necessary.”

  I could see that. “You’re suggesting that I need to meet with him and that I’d best be very careful. Who else should I meet with? Is there an Army counterpart?”

  “No. Geuffryt sends reports to the Army Command as well as to his superiors at Naval Command.”

  “Do I have you request the meeting or have Maitre Dyana do it?”

  “They’ll expect me to make the request. I did for Master Dichartyn.”

  “Whom else do you think I should meet?”

  “For now…probably no one else until you read some of the recent reports and see what Geuffryt has to say.” Schorzat smiled. “You may not have to arrange any meetings. By next Lundi invitations will be arriving at your house for various small dinners from High Holders’ wives. Doubtless, Glendyl’s wife will hurry over to make Seliora’s acquaintance as well. A new Maitre D’Esprit—and one so comparatively young and with such a beautiful wife—is always in demand during the winter social season.”

  Seliora might like that…if only for a while. “Was that one of the reasons you turned the position down?” I asked lightly and wryly.

  “Better you than me,” he replied with a laugh.

  When I returned to my “new” study, I was tired. I closed my eyes for a time, but that wasn’t particularly restful. Not with all the various bits of information swirling through my thoughts. So I tried to make sense of it all. Caartyl couldn’t be stupid enough to think that he would remain even as acting head of the Executive Council. That meant he needed the position to do something immediate, and it was likely that he’d arranged, or someone had arranged for him, the difficulties that had required Glendyl to go to Ferravyl. What could that be? I was doubtless missing the obvious, and that was because I was tired and aching.

  Then I stood and walked over to
the two blank-faced cabinets on the north wall, behind and to the right of the desk. It took several attempts before I figured out the image-linked lock catches. The first shock was the dearth of information on High Holders. While there was information on some I didn’t know personally, I didn’t see much on those, such as Suyrien, that I did know that I couldn’t have found out fairly easily. And while there was a presumptive list of High Holders, there was also a note that it was anything but inclusive or current. That bothered me, more than a little.

  After spending more than three glasses reading through reports, my head was aching as much as my body. I was beginning to understand why Dichartyn had often looked so tired, and why he’d been less than patient with me years before. Given the lack of reports from whole sections of Solidar, I also understood why he’d spent time traveling as well.

  Overall, the reports gave me a far better idea of what was happening in Solidar outside L’Excelsis, and it was clear that the Ferrans—and the unknown Jariolan agents—were concentrating on less than half a score of cities…but I still had the feeling that far, far more was happening than had been reported, and that I needed to puzzle through matters more deeply, if only to pose the questions my brain might find answers to once I was more rested.

  Another question was where Cydarth fit into the various machinations. Why would anyone be interested in paying off the subcommander of a city’s Civic Patrol, even if the city happened to be L’Excelsis? There were no clues to that in anything I’d read.

  There was also the relationship between Geuffryt and Juniae D’Shendael. Relatives or not, why would she have gotten involved in writing the note conveying information about the banque explosion?

  When I finally left the administration building, it was still light, but the sun hung low over the river as I made my way north along the west walk.

  When I reached the front gate, I stopped and looked to my right. Beyond our dwelling remained the ruins of Master Dichartyn’s and Maitre Dyana’s houses, but farther to the north I could see that, already, the walls of the Maitre’s dwelling appeared to be half-rebuilt. Then I studied the roof on the north side of our dwelling. I couldn’t see any difference in the slates that would indicate where the shell had struck.

  After a moment, I started for the front door, where Seliora stood waiting.

  29

  On Vendrei morning, I realized I had another difficulty, one that was insignificant in some respects, and not immediate, but still a problem, since Seliora had decided to stay at the house and work with Klysia to rid the place of more of the grit and dust that continued to settle, seemingly out of thin air. So, immediately after breakfast, even before going to find out what awaited me in my own study in the administration building, I went to see Maitre Dyana.

  Gherard wasn’t there, and she appeared as though she’d been there very early when I knocked and eased into her study. “What is it, Rhenn?”

  “This is going to seem silly, but…”

  “Yes?”

  “For five years, I’ve been using a duty coach to go to Third District and—”

  “You don’t want Seliora and your daughter to use hacks regularly, and you don’t want her to have to give up her work or to be in danger.”

  “That’s right. I was hoping I could pay…”

  “As a Maitre D’Esprit, you now receive ten golds a week.”

  I almost choked. I hadn’t realized how much the difference in pay was. “It’s not the cost.”

  “I understand. I have thought about this. A hack ride to NordEste Design runs, what, three to four coppers each way? That’s four silvers a week, or two golds a month. A duty coach is better. What if we simply deduct the two golds a month from your pay and transfer it to the transport section?”

  “I would suggest three, so that there’s no question, and I would appreciate that very much.”

  “Three a month it will be. I appreciate your concern for not wanting to take privileges you don’t feel are appropriate. We also do want to keep Seliora and your daughter as safe as practicable.” Dyana smiled. “If that’s all?”

  “For now, thank you.”

  I walked back downstairs and toward my own study, although it was still hard to think of it as mine, because it had been Dichartyn’s for so long…and I hadn’t even been able to attend his memorial service.

  As soon as I’d settled behind the desk, I picked up the copy of Veritum and began to read the lead story on the progress of the war in Cloisera. The Ferran advance had been slowed by fiercer Jariolan resistance and by an early snowstorm, but the newer Ferran land-cruisers were performing far better than those used in the previous war between the two countries. That was apparently offset to some degree by the new Jariolan land-mines. No one had yet tried to break the Solidaran blockade. I wondered how Glendyl and some of the factors felt about that, with their concern for open trade, at least of their products.

  The lead story in Tableta dealt with the “annexation” of the Tiempran diamond and gold mines by Stakanar. I wondered how I’d missed that, except I realized that it must have happened while I’d been unconscious. What else had I missed? Not too much, I hoped.

  The first lines of the next story caught my attention more than the war news had, and I read the story twice, then again, going through the key parts.

  The Civic Patrol in Ruile, along with the Freeholder Constabulary in the Sud region, raided the lands of High Holder Ruelyr late on Samedi. The combined forces discovered close to a thousand hectares of land in the swamp regions of the High Holder’s lands devoted exclusively to the cultivation of elveweed. “This is the stronger variety. It’s the one that’s been killing so many young Solidarans over the past months…”

  High Holder Ruelyr has not been located, but sources suggest he may be in a remote locale on his lands…

  Councilor Regial D’Alte expressed great concern. “No matter what the purported cause, invading the lands of a High Holder without a judicial order is the first step toward mob rule and the breakdown of the longest and most successful form of civil government in the history of Terahnar…”

  I’d been right about where the stronger elveweed had been grown, but the story didn’t tell me a great deal about who had been the one actually profiting from the growing and selling. The story implied that Ruelyr was the guilty party, but why would a High Holder get involved in that? Did he owe that much? And to whom?

  Newsheet in hand, I walked to Schorzat’s study, hoping he was in.

  He was, and he immediately announced, “You have a meeting with Sea-Marshal Geuffryt at the second glass of the afternoon. At the Naval Bureau, not the Naval Command.”

  “Thank you.”

  He grinned at me. “I didn’t see you running this morning.”

  “It’s likely to be several weeks before Draffyd will let me pummel my body to that degree.” I held up the newsheet. “The elveweed story?”

  “After our talk yesterday, I thought you might be asking.”

  “It doesn’t help that we don’t have a regional in Ruile.” I paused. “Who would know any more about what’s happening there?”

  “We’ll get some reports, but not for several days.”

  “What do the Ferrans know about our regionals? Would they know that there isn’t one in Ruile?”

  He shook his head. “That’s hard to say. There’s nothing anywhere except in your study and mine—and Maitre Dyana’s—in a written form that even alludes to a regional network of imagers. People certainly speculate, and it’s known there are imagers across Solidar, but…”

  “They might just be calculating where they wouldn’t be, based on…” My words broke off.

  “What?”

  “Maybe this has been going on for much longer. You remember all the killings of junior imagers six years ago?”

  “You think that was part of a longer-term plan?”

  “I don’t know, but with fewer young imagers over time…” That was a possibility, but there wasn’t much I cou
ld do about the past. “What about Ruile and Ruelyr?”

  “Ruelyr owes a great deal,” replied Schorzat. “We’ve known that for a while. Most of the notes were held by the Banque D’Ouestan.”

  “Interesting.” It was more than interesting, since that was the banque from which the drafts to Cydarth had allegedly come. By itself, that proved nothing, but I’d always been suspicious of coincidences. “What do you know about the banque?”

  “It’s the second-largest banque in Ouestan, and tends to handle non-Solidaran trading and factoring accounts, also foreign currencies and bonds. The Banque D’Cote is the one used by most Solidaran factors and the local High Holders there.”

  “Who owns the Banque D’Ouestan?”

  “That’s a good question. It’s held by private shareholders and has been for over a hundred years.”

  “That makes it a perfect conduit for funds and blind drafts. I presume it’s exceedingly sound financially?”

  “It’s the only banque on the entire northwest coast that survived the Panic of ’17 without being reorganized or bought out.”

  “Ferran investors?”

  Schorzat shrugged. “Maitre Dichartyn and Maitre Poincaryt thought so. We could never prove it.”

  “Is there any way to determine if the land that the Civic Patrol of Ruile and the Constabulary raided was actually leased to someone else?”

  “That was my thought. We’re working on it.”

  “Good…” I paused. “How can we find out if an attractive woman is missing from Ruelyr’s house hold in Sud?”

  Schorzat frowned.

  “The Civic Patrol found a body a week or so ago. She was young and attractive, wearing an expensive wool suit and an inexpensive bright scarf, and she’d been poisoned, but set up as if she’d been an elveweed death. She wasn’t an elver. Oh…and the body had been moved some considerable distance, and the suit was tailored on a High Holder estate, but not for the holder’s family, and the wools were from the area around Ruile. It bothered me at the time.”

  Schorzat shook his head. “We don’t have anyone close to him, and without a regional there…Let me think about it.”