Maitre Dyana must have hurried, because she was only wearing a foul weather cloak over her grays, and not one of her signature colorful scarves. She looked at the three junior imagers, standing in a line silently, then at me.
“I need to brief you first, Maitre.” Then I turned. “You three are to say nothing until Maitre Dyana questions each of you. Do you understand?”
I got three cowed nods, then looked at Beleart. “Make sure they don’t.”
“Yes, sir.”
Only after Maitre Dyana and I were alone in the conference room off the reception hall did she smile. “You put on quite a performance, Rhenn.”
“I had to.” I explained exactly what had happened, adding, “I don’t know how much force she put behind the mallets, but it wasn’t insignificant. One of the mallets split when it hit my shields. I can understand her anger. They were taunting her that women imagers couldn’t do what men could. Like someone else, years back, I think she needs some training in less lethal ways of protecting herself. You know why I told her to keep quiet.”
“Very wise. She knows she might not have struck them, but she will worry that, if you hadn’t, if she had, she might have killed them.”
“I thought it might be best if you handled it from here.”
“I can do that.” Her eyes twinkled. “By the way, Rhenn, exactly why were you headed down here at this time of night?”
“Maitre Poincaryt scheduled me for another session with Draffyd. I attempted to use imaging to keep a child from a poisoning death.”
“What happened to the child?”
“He’s fine. Maitre Poincaryt worries that it might not go so well next time. He’s right, but the boy would have died.”
She laughed gently. “If those three you terrified only knew…”
“They haven’t learned enough to know.” Just as I hadn’t, once upon a time.
Dyana nodded, and we walked back out to the three, where I took my leave and hurried to the adjoining building that held the infirmary.
“Disciplinary actions?” asked Draffyd as I walked into the surgery.
“I ran into two youngsters trying to beat up a young second named Tomai.”
“She couldn’t have had a better master come along,” Draffyd said. “She reminds all the older masters of another young second some years back.”
“I thought you might say something along those lines,” I said ruefully. “I managed to temper her strikes enough that she didn’t kill them.”
“Are you sure that was wise?”
“I haven’t heard that either Silmyn and Torgast were the kind of bullies like Johanyr or Diazt.”
“They’ve been a bit of a problem, but, you’re right, nothing like Johanyr. He had as much raw ability as you did.”
“He didn’t want to work.”
“It’s probably better that way.”
“Is he still at Mont D’Glace?”
“I suppose so. We would have heard, otherwise.” Draffyd pointed to the surgical smock on the peg beside the door and the cadaver on the surgery table. “We need to get to work.”
What he meant was that I needed to get to work.
Two glasses later, I washed up and left the infirmary. I might not have looked green, but my internal organs were somewhat unsteady. Still, the mist and cold helped enough that I was merely chilled through when I closed our door behind me.
Seliora appeared immediately. “You must be cold. I have some warm mulled wine for you.”
I couldn’t help putting my arms around her, and just holding her.
“How was Master Draffyd?” she finally asked.
“He was fine. I’m glad he’s the imager surgeon and not me.”
“You could do some of that, couldn’t you? Now?”
“A little. If someone would die otherwise.” I shuddered.
“Go sit in front of the stove. You’re freezing.”
I took off my cloak and hung it up, then followed her directions, taking one side of the settee directly before the stove in the family parlor.
Seliora reappeared with two mugs and offered me one, then settled beside me. “You’re worried. More worried than I’ve ever seen you.”
“Even more than when Iryela’s father was after you and my family?”
“More than that,” she said.
I held the mug to my lips, letting the cinnamon-clove steam wreathe my face for a moment, then took a small swallow of the wine before I spoke again. “There’s more to all of this than just elveweed and friction between freeholders and factors and the High Holders.”
“You think the Ferrans have more spies here causing trouble?”
“I don’t think there’s any doubt about it. But the stronger elveweed comes from Otelyrn. I mean that it originally grew only there, and that points to Stakanar or Tiempre.” I took another swallow of the wine. I was beginning to feel warmer. “It’s also caused another problem.” I had to explain to Seliora why I’d be changing our schedules for a while. She listened while I talked. When I finished, I waited.
“You’re as bad as any Pharsi when it comes to protecting your own,” Seliora said quietly.
I didn’t mention that Mama Diestra had made that point before we were married. But the plain fact was that it would be difficult for taudis-toughs to kill me. Difficult, but not impossible. But…if they went after my patrollers, and I wasn’t there…before long I’d be totally in effective as a Patrol Captain. “There’s another problem. They’re putting the word out that Kharles was shot because I meddled in their operations in his district.”
Seliora stiffened.
“I didn’t. The crazy tiler lost his daughter. Maybe she was his niece…” I explained the rest of the story.
“It’s all a set-up to get to you,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the two dealers Horazt named are being exposed to punish them and that the others let Sostrys get to those two.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised at that, either, but it doesn’t change anything.”
“No. If you’re there, even if some patrollers do get hurt, your men will stand behind you. If you aren’t…”
She didn’t have to finish the sentence.
Eventually, we went to bed, first to hers, and then, as always, I went to my own—knowing that, uneasy as I was, my dreams might lead, as they occasionally had, to unthought dream-imaging.
22
On Mardi, I skipped the early-morning exercises and slept later—not all that much later, given Diestrya, but I needed as much sleep as I could get, and I was grateful that my disturbed dreams hadn’t led to sleep-imaging. Even so, I didn’t head in to the station until close to ninth glass, but the day was still damp and chill.
Lyonyt greeted me with an announcement. “Captain, we just got a report. First District thinks they just picked up the body of that elver you asked about. Red hair…same scar along the forearm.”
“Thank you.” I couldn’t say I was surprised that Kolasyn’s brother was dead. The only questions that had ever been in my mind were when he would die and whether anyone would find his body. Some elvers could put in a day’s work, go home and smoke a weed-pipe or two, got to bed, and get up and go to work. Then, there were the ones for whom smoking the weed was life itself. They died hard and young. Haerasyn had clearly been one of those. “I’ll have to go down to First District in a bit.” I paused. “We haven’t had any word from any of the goldsmiths, have we?”
“No, sir. I’d say it’s not too likely now.”
“You’re right about that.”
After checking the logs and the reports and finding nothing out of the ordinary, I walked into Alsoran’s study. I didn’t close the door.
As usual, the lieutenant was on his feet. “I heard about your relative.”
“It had to happen. It’s better that it’s over. I’ll go down there and take care of matters after we’re through here.” I gestured to the chairs, then took the one facing his desk. “What’s happened that’s not in the logs,
if anything?”
“We’ll need to rework some of the rounds tonight. Last night, Vaeryn got his foot run over by a cart, and Socaryt’s out with a flux of some sort.”
“Is the foot something that will heal?”
“The surgeon thinks so, but it will be weeks, if not longer.”
“Can he handle the duty desk on the midnight to morning shift?”
“He should be able to. We can see.”
Once Alsoran and I reworked the rounds, I took a hack down to the headquarters building on Fedre, just a block or so up from East River Road, not because I wanted to be anywhere near Cydarth, but because the rear of the building also held First District station.
I didn’t know the patroller on the duty desk, but he clearly knew me. “The body’s in the cold room, Captain Rhennthyl.”
“Thank you.” I walked back to the far corner and opened the heavy door slowly. There was almost no odor, even though there were five bodies laid out. I could tell from body positions that four were elvers.
Once I stood beside the redheaded form, I recognized Haerasyn. His dead face held the contorted expression common to all the elvers who’d died from the stronger weed. I didn’t even shake my head.
I walked back to the front desk. “It’s him. I’ll sign the claim forms and have the crematorium pick up the body as soon as they can.”
“We’ll hold it.” The desk patroller handed the single sheet of paper to me.
I filled it out, signed it, and handed it back.
He looked at me again.
“I’ll be making the arrangements right after I leave here.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I could understand his feelings. No patroller wanted to have a dead body around very long, although it wasn’t so bad in late fall or winter.
“Oh…I’d sent a request about jewelry and goldsmiths?”
“Yes, sir. No one’s reported anything, and with a reward, it’s likely that they would if it crossed their counters.”
“Thank you.”
After I left the First District station I walked around to the charging section of headquarters. As I’d hoped, since it was early afternoon, Buasytt sat unoccupied at the desk.
“Captain…what brings you here?”
“Business with First District. I just wanted to hear what the chargings have been like everywhere.”
The graying patroller shook his head. “Last glass has been the quietest in weeks. Until now, it was like every tough in every taudis had decided to get busy.” He frowned. “Except Third District.” After a pause, he asked, “Would you care to tell me why that might be so, sir?”
“All I can say is that we’ve been working to change things as much as we can in Third District. We cracked down on the taudis-gangs years ago.”
Buasytt nodded slowly. “I recall something about that. You took on two of the taudischefs yourself, didn’t you?”
I laughed. “I didn’t have a choice. They came after me. When that was done, it made sense to finish the job.” And I had, but certainly not in the way I made it sound. “Have there been any attacks on patrollers in other districts?”
He shook his head. “Lots more smash-and-grabs, a couple of small explosions out in Sixth District, but away from anything.”
That sounded like someone testing something, but I didn’t say so. I just smiled. “I appreciate learning what’s been happening. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Captain.”
From headquarters, I took another hack out to Elsyor Memorials, where, for the appropriate payments, they were happy to agree to pick up Haerasyn’s body, prepare it for viewing, and then for cremation, after a family viewing. They even had a courier service so that I could send a message to Seliora at NordEste Design. I wanted her to get the message, because someone with a level head needed to be the one to inform the family.
Then I took another hack back to Third District. Just in dealing with that small part of the mess Haerasyn had left behind, I’d spent three golds. That didn’t count the thirty golds worth of jewelry and coin he’d stolen when he’d vanished.
There had been two smash-and-grabs while I’d been gone, not that they wouldn’t have occurred even if I’d been there. I did get back in time so that, at fourth glass, when the evening patrollers reported and those on the day rounds returned, Alsoran and I were able to brief all the patrollers on the possibility of violence against them by taudis-types from outside the district.
After that, I stayed until ninth glass that night, accompanying various patroller teams who worked the taudis on their rounds, but the entire afternoon and evening were quieter than normal. Again, I had to walk to find a hack, but only to the Midroad.
Seliora met me at the door. She studied my face, then stepped back and said, “Thank you for dealing with Haerasyn.”
I closed the door behind me and took off my cloak and hung it up in the foyer vestibule. “I’m sorry the message had to come to you, but I wasn’t certain how Odelia would deal with it.”
“She didn’t handle it well.”
“She wanted to know where I was, I expect, and why I only sent a courier and a message…and that I sent it to you and not to her or Kolasyn.”
With a wry smile, Seliora nodded. “Mother and Aunt Aegina pointed out that matters are very unsettled in L’Excelsis and that you had taken time to track down Haerasyn and make the basic arrangements for the services and cremation.”
“And Odelia got upset and then retreated?”
“You’ve gotten to know her moods well.”
“For better or worse, her feelings come first.” I didn’t point out that sometimes thought came far later, if at all.
“She’s good at heart,” Seliora pointed out.
“That’s true, but she can be hard on those closest to her.” I laughed as we walked into the family parlor. “At times, I suppose, that’s true of all of us.” The warmth of the stove felt good after a cold night and a colder hack ride back to Imagisle.
“You’re aware of that, dearest.” She squeezed my hand. “You’re cold. Sit down. I have some warm spiced wine for you.”
I didn’t need much persuasion to settle on the settee in front of the stove, especially since I knew Seliora would be back beside me before long.
23
Meredi followed the same pattern as had Mardi, but late as I stayed at the station that night, there was still no sign of any violence. That left me edgy, but I didn’t doubt that some form of attack would occur. I just didn’t know when, and I didn’t sleep that well on Meredi night.
Jeudi was bright, clear, and cold, even when I reached Third District station just past mid-day. To me, the chill foreshadowed a long and cold winter. Lyonyt looked up from the duty desk as I neared.
“Are there any severe problems this morning?”
“No, sir. Not yet.”
“Any dispatches from headquarters?”
“No, sir.”
“Is the lieutenant in yet?”
“Yes, sir. He’s been here for a glass or so.”
I checked the duty logs. The number of elver deaths was about the same—two for the previous evening—but incidents and arrests remained low, and that was as good a sign as any that trouble wasn’t far away. Even though that made no logical sense, that was always the way it was. Then I walked into Alsoran’s study.
“Still too quiet,” I offered.
“It is.” He smiled, ruefully. “How long do you think before the druggers’ boys start trying to take out patrollers?”
“Tonight will be the second dry night. It looks like it will be clear. I’d say tonight or tomorrow.” I shrugged. “Then, it could be Samedi.”
“Not Solayi?”
“That’s unlikely. Even the Duodeans and the Puryons respect Solayi. Besides, fewer people are out, and that’s likely to call attention to strangers. They like to mingle in crowds once they’ve made a score.”
“You’re probably right about that. How long will they keep at it
?”
“Until they kill at least five or six patrollers or until we stop them. That’s a guess, but there’s more at stake here than a crazy tiler killing expendable drug dealers.”
“You keep saying that, Captain, but you avoid saying what is.” Alsoran glanced toward the barred windows that fronted on Fuosta.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire future of Solidar isn’t.”
Alsoran looked at me for a long moment. “I don’t think you’re jesting. But…druggies shooting at patrollers affecting all of Solidar?”
“Oh…what happens here is only a small part of what’s happening. The stronger weed is hitting the five most important cities in Solidar. Elver deaths are higher than ever before, and half are hitting outside the taudis—among people with shops and golds. There’s almost a civil war going on in the eastern grain lands between the freeholders and the High Holders. War is about to break out between Jariola and Ferrum. And Cydarth is scheming to replace the Commander. But it’s all going to happen at once.”
“I can’t say as I’ve seen you this gloomy before.”
I forced a smile. “I could be wrong. All these things might be coincidence.”
The lieutenant snorted. “For a patroller, coincidence is a fair-weather friend. We both know that.”
After leaving Alsoran, I spent the next several glasses catching up on the various reports required by headquarters, mostly by Cydarth, who thought that more reports equated to more accountability and more effective patrolling. Beyond a certain point, I’d observed in my own experience, greater accountability resulted in less effectiveness because too much time and effort was spent on reports and documentation.
I made my first rounds with Deomyn and Zarcyl, around sixth glass. While they had to handle a drunken husband and catch and tie up a loose sway-backed dray, their round was calm. At a quarter past eighth glass I switched to accompanying Sammyl and Rarydn. Their round encompassed the east end of the district out to the Plaza SudEste, the same one I’d once patrolled with Alsoran years before, and the round I thought likely to see taudis-toughs or strong-arms from the Hellhole.
Imager’s Intrigue Page 19