Imager's challenge ip-2

by L. E. Modesitt

  “No, sir. The job of the Civic Patrol is to maintain order, not to destroy it.”

  “Enough. We have a job to do, and we’re going to do it. You can help, or you can watch and be reported as obstructing the will of the Council.”

  “Colonel,” Harraf said smoothly, “your men are admirably suited to the task. I would remind you that allowing you to do what you see as your duty is in no way obstructing you.”

  “We will do our duty, Captain, with or without your assistance. Good day.”

  After the colonel rode away, Harraf turned to me. “What will happen now, Master Rhennthyl?”

  “Nothing good, sir.”

  “We’d best watch.” Harraf turned to the two patrollers behind us. “Both of you keep your eyes open.” He paused. “Kharyt . . . have the mounted squad move back west of us. They’re too close to the Temple. We wouldn’t want them to interfere with the colonel’s men.”

  “Yes, sir.” The taller patroller loped off eastward along South Middle.

  Before that long, Kharyt was back, and the riot squad rode past us and drew up a block more toward the station. At the same time, the naval marine formation turned west and marched another hundred yards west, then turned to face the Temple. On the east flank of the formation, a squad of riders formed up.

  “Company! Forward!” The order echoed toward us.

  The marines marched forward, their batons ready.

  My eyes shifted from them to the Temple . . . then back to the marines . . . back to the Temple . . . and stopped.

  Just as I had seen in that momentary flash I could not forget, the Temple seemed to tremble, its walls shivering and bulging outward. Even as I expanded my shields to cover Harraf and the two patrollers behind us, light, a brilliant golden orange, was everywhere, followed by what sounded like thunder from all directions.

  I was shaken within the shields, like a pea in a dried pod in a winter storm, and then . . . everything was quiet . . . for a moment.

  All that remained in an area a good hundred fifty yards across was a low jumble of rubble, none of it more than knee-high, if that. South Middle was covered in bricks and fragments of bricks and timbers, and there was acrid smoke and dust everywhere.

  Faint sounds of injured men were drowned out by the screams of several horses. I had no doubts that the sounds of the maimed and wounded were louder near the Temple-assuming that there were any still alive there.

  Harraf turned to me. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. The Tiempran priests blew up the Temple.”

  “No. We’re untouched. We shouldn’t be.”

  “Imager shields, Captain. I shielded you and the others close by. That was as much as I could do, and I won’t always be able to do that.”

  Harraf swallowed, then moved forward. “Let’s go! We need to see what we can do.”

  “You deal with the Patrol, sir. I need to handle something else.”

  The captain opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded.

  “I hope to see you before too long, sir, with some answers.” I didn’t wait for a response. I just trotted across South Middle, dodging the bricks and other debris.

  For a while, the marines would be preoccupied in dealing with the chaos and their wounded. Then they’d start thinking about retaliation. Before that happened, I needed to see if Horazt and Jadhyl, as I hoped, had decided to follow my advice.

  No one even looked at me as I headed down Dugalle for a block, then turned east, striding toward the alleyway that would bring me out on Weigand and the “red” house. I just hoped Horazt was there, because I didn’t want to track him all over the taudis.

  I didn’t even have to knock. He stepped out onto the front stoop. “One of my runners said the Tiemprans blew up the Temple.”

  “They did. They probably killed a hundred marines and a bunch of Youdh’s people.”

  “Too bad for them.”

  “If we don’t get Saelyhd and some of those priests, it’s going to be too bad for everyone here in the taudis. Do you know where they are?”

  “My boys followed them,” Horazt said. “He’s got a safe house on the other end of Bhaettyr, maybe a block off Quierca. All boarded up. No one thinks anyone’s there.”

  “And the Tiempran priests are there?”

  Horazt grinned. “Might be.”

  “If you don’t want several thousand marines razing the taudis, we need to find them and hand them over to the Patrol.”

  Horazt frowned. “The Patrol . . . don’t know as I like that . . . not for Saelyhd. That’s too easy on him.”

  “If they don’t go to the Patrol, the scripties will just kill them and then raze the taudis anyway. This way, Harraf gets to save his buttocks, and the scripties can’t sweep everything into the nearest sewer. If someone isn’t held to blame, all of you in the South Middle taudis will pay dearly. If the Patrol gets them, the Tiemprans and Saelyhd will all get executed, but the hearing will make it clear that the Tiemprans did it, not the taudis.” I looked at him. “Them or you?”

  “Then what?” he asked.

  “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do what I can to keep things calm and point out that you and Jadhyl and Deyalt kept your people out of it.”

  Horazt nodded slowly. “You don’t offer much, Master Rhennthyl, but no one else is playing this game of plaques.”

  No, and if I’d had any sense, or followed Master Dichartyn’s ways, I wouldn’t be playing it, either. “Can you get enough of your men together to drag the Tiemprans to where I need them after I subdue them?”

  “I’ve got men here. How are you going to get Saelyhd and his boys out of the building?”

  “I have something in mind. Oh . . . we will need rope or cord to tie them up with.”

  “We’ve got that . . . other things, too.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Horazt whistled twice, and taudis-toughs began piling out the door. I stepped back to give them room.

  Horazt waited until twelve men and youths gathered round. “Like I told Mynewyr, we’re going to collect Saelyhd and the friggin’ priests, help Master Rhennthyl deliver ’em to the Patrol so as the scripties don’t burn us out.”

  Then he turned and nodded to me, and started walking.

  I took two quick steps and matched his pace. Squat and muscular as he was, that was easy enough because my legs were considerably longer than his. We traveled four short blocks east, and one and a half long blocks south-without seeing anyone-before Horazt stopped and pointed. “That’s it.”

  The “safe” house indeed looked like it was abandoned, a squat, brick-built, blockish thing of two stories. The windows on the lower level had been crudely bricked over. Those on the second level were boarded shut.

  “Any rear doors?” I asked.

  “Nah . . . they bricked that up, too,” Horazt replied.

  “I need a fire. Get as many things as you can that will burn and pile them in the middle of the street. I don’t want to burn anything down. I just want to drive them out.”

  Horazt frowned.

  “Just trust me.”

  Horazt shook his head, but raised his voice. “Stuff that’ll burn! Find it. Pile it in the middle of the street! There.”

  The taudis-toughs spread out, and before long all manner of things had been piled in the middle of the street-old tree limbs, rotten boards and timbers, sections of broken shutters, dried brush and leaves.

  Once the pile was big enough, I imaged flames into several places and waited until fire, ashes, and smoke were pouring upward. Then I went to work, imaging the hot air and smoke into the boarded-up building. A quint passed, and despite the coolness of the day, I was sweating profusely.

  Then thumping and banging began to emanate from within, and finally the boards on one of the windows were pushed away, and a darker soot-stained face appeared, gasping. I imaged a shield across the open space. More thumping followed, but no window boards moved, or not much, and smoke began to seep out fr
om between the boards.

  Another half quint more passed, and then the front door burst open, and two men staggered out.

  Horazt’s men were ready and immediately grabbed and tied them up.

  More figures staggered out, followed by gouts of smoke, only to be caught and trussed. I stopped imaging hot air and smoke and wiped my forehead.

  Finally, no one else emerged, and I walked over to the figures lined up along the sidewalk.

  “This one . . . he’s the head priest,” offered one of Horazt’s men, pointing to a figure in blue and black.

  I noted two others in the same garb.

  “There’s Saelyhd.” Horazt gestured to a burly man who had recovered and was struggling against the ropes.

  “You!” Saelyhd glared at the younger taudischef. “You have sold out to the trolies. . . .”

  I stepped forward. “No. You sold out to the Tiemprans. You’ll pay for it. Just like Youdh did.”

  His eyes turned to me. He started to speak, then looked again and fell silent.

  “We need Saelyhd and the priests. We can leave the others.” I looked to Horazt. “You know who they are?”

  “Yes. Most of them.”

  “Are they safe to let go after we’re away?”

  He looked over the others. “All but Donmass, there.” He pointed to a square-faced man in soiled gray. “He killed many.”

  “We’ll turn him in with Saelyhd, then. Can we leave a few men here to let the others go in a bit?”

  Horazt nodded. “Selyst, Boazt . . . you know how to cut them loose so they have to work themselves free.”

  The smallest tough grinned. “I can do that good.”

  “Just cut the ropes,” Horazt said, then coughed and shook his head. “That’s all.”

  Horazt’s remaining nine men marched the three Tiempran priests, along with Saelyhd and Donmass, back the way we’d come, then up Weigand and across to Dugalle and then toward South Middle. About a half block short of South Middle, I gestured for a halt.

  “I don’t want anyone here shot,” I told Horazt. “I need to arrange where we’re going to take them. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Figured something like that.” He didn’t look happy. I supposed I wouldn’t have, either, but I hadn’t been the one to create the mess.

  Since I’d have to do it some fifty yards ahead, as I walked away I raised concealment shields.

  “. . .frig! . . .”

  “. . . do that?”

  I thought that might provide some additional incentive for cooperation.

  When I reached the wall at the end of the taudis, I saw a patroller on the far side of South Middle, but until I crossed the street, again dodging debris that had not been removed, I couldn’t tell that it was Slausyl. Then I was within ten yards, and I dropped the shield just before I reached him. His mouth dropped open, but surprising him was the idea.

  “Where’s the captain?”

  For a moment, his mouth didn’t work. Then he finally said, “Over there . . . toward Mando . . . he’s trying to keep the scripties from doin’ something stupid.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see if I can help him.” I began to trot up along South Middle, avoiding more of the bricks and debris. I could smell the odor of smoke, and thin whitish gray plumes drifted up from the ruins of the Temple.

  Harraf was talking to a mounted officer, who was glaring down at the captain and gesturing. Then, Captain Harraf caught sight of me, said something to the officer, and walked toward me.

  I spoke first. “Captain . . . I think I can help stop this before it gets out of hand.”

  “How, Master Rhennthyl?”

  “We can come up with the Tiempran priests and the taudischef who engineered the explosion. That will give the scripties someone to be angry at besides the taudis-dwellers. It will also prove that the Patrol knows better what’s going on. Besides, the priests are the ones who blew up the Temple.”

  “The major there isn’t likely to listen.”

  “Let me try, sir.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Harraf turned and walked back to the major. “You might want to listen to Master Rhennthyl here.”

  “About what?” The major kept looking toward the ruins of the Temple and the space along the sidewalk where marines had laid out the bodies of comrades they’d found.

  No one had bothered with the bodies of the taudis-dwellers.

  “About why it wouldn’t be a good idea to use force on the taudis right now.” I wasn’t going to say more until I got his attention. He was half listening at best.

  “We’ll be going in before long. No one does that to us.”

  “The taudis-dwellers didn’t do it to you,” I pointed out.

  “I don’t care. We’ve lost more than a hundred men . . . and the colonel.”

  “Major!” I snapped. “That’s exactly what the Tiemprans want. They’re the ones who blew up the Temple. That’s why it was set up that way. So the conscription teams would blame the taudis-dwellers and then go wild and slaughter hundreds. Now . . . do you want to call off this idiotic assault, or do you want to face a court-martial for playing into the Tiemprans’ hands? It’s your choice. I warned the colonel, but he didn’t care to listen.”

  “Who are you?” For the first time, his eyes actually took me in, seeing the grays and the imager’s visor cap, not that different from that of the Civic Patroller’s, in form, but straight gray with the insignia of the Collegium rather than that of L’Excelsis above the bill.

  “Rhennthyl D’Image, the Collegium’s liaison to the Civic Patrol, and yes, I am a master imager. And yes, I have served the Council directly. And no, you really don’t want to send your men into the taudis-not when the Council is aware that the Tiemprans threatened to do what just happened. Do you really want to lose your career? Maybe even be shot?”

  Fury fought with common sense within him. I could see that in his eyes and in the hardening of his jaw.

  “If it will make you feel better, let this settle over the weekend, and I’ll personally accompany your conscription teams through the taudis on Lundi. Maintain a cordon if you want, but don’t let your men shoot anyone. That’s what the Tiemprans are looking for. And I can guarantee it’s not what the Council wants.” I softened my voice. “And if you’re not happy, you can blame me.”

  “You’ll personally accompany my men?”

  “Any one team at a time.” I couldn’t do more than one at once, but he might expect the impossible, rather than the merely incredibly difficult.

  “I’ll take that promise, imager. I don’t like it. I don’t have to like it.”

  “None of us like having men killed. But killing the taudis-dwellers won’t get at those who did it.” I nodded. “Thank you. Now . . . if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to deliver the prisoners to Third District station for transport to the main gaol. Those are the Tiempran priests and some others who did it.”

  “You have them?”

  I gestured toward the far side of the wall. “Back there. That’s why I wasn’t with the captain. I had to get them before they escaped.”

  “You did that alone?”

  “No. I had some local help. They don’t want to be blamed for something they didn’t do.” I smiled politely and turned to Harraf. “I’ve got five prisoners. If you could have some of the patrollers meet us at the wall just west of Dugalle . . . ?”

  “We can manage that, Master Rhennthyl.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you and them there shortly.”

  Then I turned and half walked, half trotted back to where I’d left Horazt and the others. When he saw me returning, he offered an inquisitive look.

  “The marines were about to attack. They won’t. They’ll probably cordon the taudis for the weekend, but they say they won’t shoot. Don’t tempt them. On Lundi, they’ll start through the taudis, but I’ll be with the lead team. That should keep them from getting out of hand.” I hoped it would.

  Horazt frowned. I
was getting tired of that.

  “Everyone faces a scriptie team,” I said, more sharply than I should have. “They came to my door growing up. More than once. I’m trying to keep people from getting shot and burned out.”

  “Like I said . . .”

  “I know. I don’t offer much. It’s a lot better than the alternative. Now . . . I said we’d deliver the priests and Saelyhd and Donmass to the wall on the north side of Dugalle. We get them there, and then you leave. I really don’t think you want to be that close to Captain Harraf. I can hold them for a while.”

  “Imaging stuff?” asked Harraf.

  I nodded. I was getting more than a little tired, but I could handle that.

  “You heard Master Rhennthyl. March ’em up to the wall.”

  Where we were headed was less than half a block away, if a long half block. That walk felt longer than all the others I’d made since I’d risen that morning, including the four-mille run after exercising.

  When we reached the wall, I took a careful look around. No one was close, but I could see a group of patrollers gathering on the far side of South Middle, if more to the west.

  “Master Rhennthyl?”

  I turned.

  Horazt stood there. The five prisoners had been seated against the wall, their feet roped together. Saelyhd glared at Horazt, then at me.

  Horazt smiled at the other taudischef, then said to me, “We got some extra rope. We tied ’em together some. Make it a bit easier on the trolies that have to collect ’em. Might watch Donmass . . . nasty boar’s ass.”

  “I appreciate it.” Then I lowered my voice. “I owe you. But I don’t carry that many golds around with me.”

  “Told you before. You’re good for it.” He offered a crooked smile. “Not like I could spend it this weekend.”

  “One other thing,” I said. “Do you know if Chelya’s all right? Shault will ask me.”

  “She wasn’t near the Temple. I saw her before you came. She’s fine. You can tell him that.”

  “He’ll ask about you, too, but I could answer that.”