“Setting fires in Ferrum won’t solve the problem, Maitre.”
“It all depends on how and where it’s done,” I pointed out. “For the moment, however, I need you and Kahlasa to make the arrangements for thirty imagers to travel to Westisle on the express leaving L’Excelsis on Solayi evening. There may not be that many, but it’s easier to leave spaces than to find them.”
“Reynol won’t be happy at that large a draw on the accounts,” Schorzat pointed out.
“He probably won’t be, but that’s what we need.”
No one was going to be happy, because at least half of the seconds and thirds would probably be drawn from those employed in the armory or workshops in various specialties.
By the time I headed back to my study, Dartazn had arrived and was waiting patiently. “I’m sorry. I had a few loose ends to deal with.”
“I can imagine. I was a little late because I had to turn over some things to Martyl. He’s going to be very busy once the Council starts meeting next month.”
Although that was four weeks away, I wouldn’t even have any idea of how well what I was planning had turned out by then, or even if Dartazn and the fleet had been able to execute it. I shook off that thought and opened the study door. “We’d better get started.”
I spent close to two glasses working with Dartazn and with maps of Ferrum, especially the one of Ferrial, which was not only the capital, but also a port. After that, we went to visit Chassendri in her laboratory, where she gave us both, but especially Dartazn, more information and demonstrations on various flammables that were easy to image.
Then we had lunch in the dining hall, and afterward Dartazn resumed working with Chassendri, while I took a glass to read through the various reports from regionals and Patrol Commanders that had arrived over the past week. From those reports, it appeared as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred anywhere in Solidar. That is, no Ferrans exploded anything, and no prominent figures had been assassinated.
On the other hand, elveweed use and deaths were beginning to rise again. Another grain ware house near Piedryn had burned under suspicious circumstances, and the snow levels in the eastern mountains were exceptionally light for late fall and early winter, suggesting more conflict over water rights in late summer, unless snowfall levels improved.
When I finished reading through the reports, I went to find Rholyn, but he wasn’t around. So I left word with the duty prime that I needed to see him and told her to check his study occasionally and let him know if he returned. Then I pondered whether I dared to approach Iryela and Kandryl to see if they could pressure the Banque D’Rivages to reveal more. While Ryel House essentially owned the banque, they didn’t take part in the day-to-day operations.
At a quint past third glass, Rholyn knocked and stepped into my study. “You were looking for me?”
“As a matter of fact, I was. I was hoping you might be able to tell me why Haestyr requested your presence in Asseroiles in the middle of all the problems here at the Collegium.”
Rholyn settled into the chair across from me. “He wants to be Chief Councilor. He feels that Ramsael isn’t strong enough to maintain leadership. He’s also worried that you’re too young to have as much power and influence as you do.”
“I can’t imagine that he said that. Exactly how did he convey it?”
Rholyn chuckled. “He suggested that you had demonstrated remarkable acuity for a Maitre who combined such power and relative lack of experience in dealing with the complexities of politics in a land such as Solidar, and that he hoped you would come to realize that friendship with High Holders is based only on their belief that you will further their ends.”
“He’s certainly right about all of that, except perhaps the ‘remarkable acuity.’ That’s flattery to a purpose.” It also suggested that Haestyr was well aware of Seliora’s dislike of his son Alhyral, and that Haestyr simply wanted to keep me from being influenced by any High Holder, knowing that was probably the best he could do. “He must know that he’ll never be Chief Councilor, and that you know that as well. What did he really want?”
“He never says. He’s very indirect.”
I waited. I was getting very tired of waiting when people expected me to ask a question, but waiting was far better than asking the wrong question.
Finally, Rholyn smiled. “You and Maitre Poincaryt.”
I didn’t ask that question, either. I just returned the smile.
“Haestyr believes that the measures that Suyrien slipped into the low justice reforms need to be revisited, particularly the change from harvest valuation to year-end valuation.”
“That wasn’t too popular to begin with, I understand.”
“No…but some of the High Holders didn’t fully understand.”
“I don’t see why that makes any difference. All of them but Suyrien voted against the measure.” Actually, I did see the difference. They’d pressure the factor and artisan Councilors to change their votes, just the way that Haebyn had pressured Glendyl to cut off engines and supplies to Broussard.
Rholyn shrugged. “He feels strongly about it.”
“Did he say why? Or indicate otherwise?”
“He only said that it was a bad idea, badly executed. When I asked him why, he just said that he didn’t have to explain.”
I nodded, although I didn’t believe him. I had to wonder why Rholyn was still the Collegium Councilor. Surely, Maitre Poincaryt had seen through him. I managed not to show any reaction as I realized just why Rholyn was a Councilor…and even why I’d been asked to paint his portrait years before. “Did he ask for you to consider any other proposals?”
“No. He did say that he hoped the Council would finally understand the need for more modern warships, now that it was less likely that they would believe that Suyrien had pressed for them solely for his own benefit.”
“Did he mention Ruelyr?”
“I don’t believe that he did…”
We talked for a while longer, but I learned nothing more from Rholyn’s words, only what he had wanted me to, which was what I’d expected. Then he left, and I went back to reading the reports I hadn’t finished.
The snow was tapering off when I left my study and trudged back toward the house.
50
By midday on Vendrei, under a sunny sky, the walks and streets around Imagisle and L’Excelsis were clear enough that I could take a duty coach to Third District station. I did so, partly because I owed it to Alsoran to make an occasional appearance, and partly because I realized once again how isolated I could easily become at the Collegium. I also wanted to know what was filtering out of Patrol headquarters to the captains.
Huensyn had the duty desk when I walked into the station.
“Maitre Rhennthyl…you’re in luck, sir. The captain’s in his study.”
I stopped. “How are things going these days?”
“It’s Third District, sir. Not too much of the strong weed. No deaths this week, either. Been quiet the last week or so except for some smash-and-grabs up on the Avenue D’Artisans near the Plaza. Oh…and a brawl at Kornyn’s last Samedi.”
“No more explosions or hellhole drug dealers?”
“No, sir. Not a one.”
I gave Huensyn a smile and crossed the foyer to the captain’s study, where I stepped in and closed the study door before sitting down. Alsoran didn’t look as tired as he had the last time I’d been there, but there was a large stack of papers on his desk.
He shook his head, then grinned. “Hate all the reports the subcommander wants. Somehow, it’s different when you’re the one who has to fill them out.”
“Is he still asking for the counts on elveweed deaths?”
“Of course. We don’t have many—none this week—but when did anything ever get taken off a report? They just keep adding.”
“What has he added now?” I asked with a smile.
“Offenses by outlanders.”
I frowned. “Who’s an outlander?
Someone who doesn’t speak Bovarian well? Someone with darker-shaded skin, or pale white skin?”
“All of those and anyone else who doesn’t fit.” Alsoran snorted. “I told the patrollers not to call anyone an outlander unless they can’t understand Bovarian. We’ve got folks whose grandparents came from Stakanar or Gyarl, and they’re as Solidaran as you and me.”
“Have you heard anything back?”
“I got a query two weeks ago. Cydarth suggested we weren’t recording all the outland offenders. I wrote back that we questioned every offender thoroughly, but we didn’t seem to have many outlanders.” Alsoran grinned sheepishly. “I also said that was probably because the previous captain had removed a large number of the criminal outlanders and no one had taken their place.”
I laughed. “Be careful. You’ll replace me as Cydarth’s least favorite captain.”
“Already have, sir.”
“Do you have a lieutenant yet?”
“No. I think they’re still trying to work out filling the captain’s slots in the other districts. So far, that hasn’t happened. No one’s told me anything.”
“You remember the elver girl who wasn’t, the pretty one?”
“Oh…the one you thought had been dumped in Third District? We never heard anything. I think you were right about her coming from somewhere else.”
“Have you had anything else like that?”
“No. I did have a brief talk with Horazt the other day. I told him you and I had talked. All he said was, ‘Good.’ I think he worries that, without your showing an interest, Jadhyl and Deyalt will take over his section of the taudis.”
“They won’t. Jadhyl’s too smart for that. He’s also patient.”
“Ah…what about the woodworks…?”
“And the paper mill? There’s no reason to change things. They bring in silvers. Seliora’s family doesn’t stop doing things that make coins.”
“That’s good.”
We talked for a while longer, mostly about patrollers and the Patrol, but I didn’t learn anything that might bear on the Ferrans or Artois or Cydarth, and I left after another half glass.
I got back to the Collegium at two quints past ninth glass, and checked with Kahlasa. We actually had all the evaluation forms from the Maitres at Imagisle. That meant that we could decide who might be the best for the mission. So she and I went into Schorzat’s study and told him.
“How do you want us to do this?” Schorzat asked.
“Each of us makes a list. Then we get together and talk over our choices and the reasons for them. After that, we work out a list we all agree on, and I give it to Maitre Dyana. She approves it or makes the last set of changes. Then we send the notices.”
In going over the forms, I found that I trusted the evaluations of some masters—such as Ghaend, Jhulian, and Kahlasa—more than others. From my juniors, I decided Eamyn and Shault had the abilities and determination, even though Shault was younger than I would have liked. I also felt he needed the experience, beyond both Imagisle and the taudis, and that exposure to the Navy might give him a better perspective on the Collegium.
When the three of us got together again after lunch, we discovered that we only had a handful of differences that were comparatively easy to sort out. At a quint past second glass, I handed the list we’d come up with to Maitre Dyana.
She didn’t take long to study it. “You have two on the list. Should you have more?”
“Because I’m known to be demanding and a perfectionist, you mean?”
“That has been said.”
“No. Haugyl and Marteon simply aren’t as good. Ralyea is borderline.”
“Would the experience do him good?”
“I don’t know. He’s almost timid.”
“Give him the chance. We’ve got enough timid ones hiding in the workshops.” A wintry smile came and went. “How will you notify the ones on the list?”
“I thought to send each one a notice about their selection and the briefing tomorrow. I’ll send another note to any master with juniors, advising them who of theirs have been chosen. I’ll have all those out within the glass.” I paused. “Unless you’d rather sign them.”
“Your signature will be fine, Rhenn.”
I understood the reasons for that as well. “I thought you’d open the briefing for those who are going.”
“That’s at ninth glass, is it not?”
I nodded. “Then I’ll say a few words and turn it over to Dartazn for a few more moments. He won’t say anything more of a substantive nature except that they’ll get more detailed training on board the frigate. He’s working with Chassendri today. Her ideas are proving very helpful.”
“Even though she has doubts?”
“We all have doubts of one sort or another.”
“What are yours, Rhenn?”
“I have two. The first is that we’ll buy time, but that we’ll create even more Ferran determination to bring us down.” I shrugged. “I tell myself they already feel that way.”
“They’ve certainly acted as if they do. What’s the second?”
“That we’ll provoke all Terahnar into uniting against us. Not immediately, but as they think about what we did.”
“We won’t have to worry about that unless your plan works. If it does, they’ll think twice…and fret for years before acting.”
“They will act, sooner or later,” I pointed out.
“Sooner, and it will be your problem, but you’ll have time to consider how to handle it. Later, and you’ll have to prepare a successor. All life is solving problems that create other problems requiring yet other solutions.” She smiled politely. “Do you need anything else from me?”
While her words were undoubtedly correct, they also suggested why the Maitres of the Collegium had, behind their measured calm, something approaching amusement at the “crises” of daily life.
“No, Maitre.”
With Maitre Dyana’s approval on the final selections, I went back to my study and began to write. It took close to two glasses to write them all out, but I did have the duty prime take them and place them in the proper letter boxes. After I finished, rather than head home immediately, I went over to the dining hall to see if Ralyea, Shault, or Eamyn might be there.
Shault and Ralyea were. In fact, they were standing opposite the letter boxes, already with the notices in hand. They both looked up when they saw me. Neither moved.
I motioned for them to join me.
“Can you tell us more, sir?” asked Shault.
“You’ll find out more at the briefing tomorrow, at the same time the others who were selected do. I will tell you that Maitre Dartazn will be in charge of you, and that I expect you two, and Eamyn, to learn everything you possibly can from him, no matter how strange or difficult it may seem. Is that clear?” I looked sternly at Shault.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’ll see you at the briefing tomorrow.” I offered a pleasant smile, and then left them standing there.
The air had gotten far colder, and my ears and face were almost numb by the time I stepped into the foyer of our house, only to have Diestrya launch herself at me and wrap her arms around my legs.
“Dada! Play plaques with me!”
That was a request to which I could gladly accede, even as I wondered how many of those junior imagers would return…and how many had once been young and trusting like my daughter.
51
My sleep on Vendrei night was scarcely sound. I awoke twice in chill darkness from nightmares where lists swam out of the blackness, and each name was written in fire and blood that burned my hands when I tried to blot out the flames. When I finally roused myself on Samedi morning, I was relieved to see that at least I hadn’t imaged fire or letters into the stones of the wall, although some heat would have been nice, since the windows were thoroughly frosted. Each breath puffed steam into the air. With their construction designed primarily to protect everyone else in the house from inadvertent n
ightmare or dream imaging, imagers’ sleeping chambers were not designed primarily for warmth.
I did slip out and hurry down to the exercise building, but not before I loaded the stoves. While I managed Clovyl’s entire work-out, I decided against running on the icy ways and walks, except for a careful and gentle jog back to the house.
Seliora and Diestrya were in the breakfast nook of the kitchen when I returned.
“I’m glad you didn’t run in this weather.” Seliora poured me a mug of steaming tea.
I just held it up to my chin and let the steam wreathe my face. “I ran back…carefully.”
“We haven’t talked about Year-Turn.”
“We went to my parents’ last year. That means we’re going to yours this year…if they’ll have us.”
“I told Mother that, but…we hadn’t actually talked.” Seliora poured herself a second mug of tea.
“We’ll have to have dinner with mine the next Samedi, I imagine.”
“We can do that. On Year-Turn day, do you want to attend services with the family or here before we go?”
“What ever you prefer.”
“Are you humoring me, dearest husband?”
“No. It’s your choice.”
She smiled. “Isola does an afternoon service on that Solayi, and it’s much shorter. That would be better, since we’ll have Diestrya.”
I nodded. I didn’t mention that Isola also offered better homilies than the chorister at the anomen attended, if infrequently, by Seliora’s family. We had a more leisurely breakfast than was usually the case, before I had to leave for the junior imagers’ briefing.
At the ninth glass of the morning on Samedi, twenty-seven seconds and thirds sat at the long tables in the dining hall. Maitre Dyana, Dartazn, and I stood at the head of the table, with her in the center. Ferlyn, Kahlasa, Ghaend, and Chassendri stood against the wall behind the masters’ table, observing.
Imager’s Intrigue Page 43
