Imager’s Intrigue

by L. E. Modesitt

She had a stack of reports in front of her, but pushed them aside. “You have questions about something?” Her smile was sympathetic.

  “How could I not? I know about Council security and Civic Patrol security and not a lot more.”

  “Whereas I know little about either of those,” she quipped back.

  “You read the newsheets about the Northern Fleet?”

  She nodded. “If you believe them, and I do, it was the kind of victory that’s hardly better than a defeat.”

  “I’ve heard that the Naval Command has been requesting capital ships for years and that the Council has yet to act on the request. What do you know about that?”

  “I know that’s true.”

  “Suyrien is the head of the Executive Council, and he owns the largest shipworks in Solidar…yet he couldn’t persuade the Council to build ships when the Navy is asking for them?”

  “That’s a fair statement,” she replied. “It’s because he does own the shipworks. None of the factors or the artisans want to spend any more on ships when we already have the largest fleet in the world. They see it as another play by a High Holder to enrich himself at everyone else’s expense. To build those ships the Naval Command is requesting would require an increase in taxes—”

  “Don’t tell me. The way the taxes on goods and services are levied means that they fall more heavily on the factors and artisans?”

  “That’s right. They don’t like it, and so long as they vote as a bloc…”

  “No new ships. Is that why Glendyl has been pushing the value-added tax reform?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But since he supplies the engines and turbines, he’s suspect as well?”

  Kahlasa nodded. “By everyone, including the High Holders.”

  “How are we—the Collegium—viewed? Has Rholyn said?”

  “He hasn’t told me that much, but Schorzat has relayed some things. He’ll be back in a glass or so.”

  “I’ll take the relayed information now and talk to him when he returns.”

  “Because Maitre Poincaryt had to work with Suyrien, we’re viewed as allied closely with the High Holders. Something you did, according to Master Dichartyn, left them cooler toward us, but didn’t help gain any support from the factors and artisans. You’re also known to be friendly with Iryela D’Ryel and Suyrien.”

  “I’m a former artisan and guild member, and my family are factors. Everyone in my wife’s family is an artisan. The Councilors are seeing what they want to see.” I shrugged. “If my acts as a patrol officer over the past five years haven’t made an impression, it’s not likely that anything I say will. Do you think the reports of the battle will change anyone’s mind?”

  “They’ll talk, but it will still come down to how to pay for the ships.”

  “Have you ever had to work with Marshal Geuffryt?”

  “I’ve talked with him briefly, but usually Schorzat or Master Dichartyn were the ones who met with him.”

  “What was your impression of him?”

  “He’s charming and well-spoken. He’s well-informed. He’ll do whatever’s necessary to rise to the top of Naval Command.”

  I laughed. “I’ve only met him twice, but nothing I’ve seen would contradict that. Is there anything else I should know about him?”

  Kahlasa shook her head.

  “There’s one other thing…”

  A certain wariness crossed her face. “Yes?”

  “I’ve been thinking about barges. Surely, there ought to be some trace of where the barges—and a tug—came from. They had to have been bought, or chartered, or stolen. Not that many people handle large barges like that.”

  “You want us to find out what we can?”

  “I do, indeed.” I smiled politely. “If you see Schorzat before I do, would you mention that I was looking for him?”

  “I will. Good luck, Rhenn.”

  “Thank you.”

  Once I returned to my study, I began to leaf through the back reports in the cabinet, looking to see if there was anything about the allocation of eastern water rights. Something, somewhere, had jogged my thoughts, and I recalled that someone, years before—it might have been Chassendri—had commented about the legal and economic issues and how the conflict between freeholders and High Holders might reduce the number of High Holders to below a thousand, triggering a change in the Council and those in control of the Executive Council.

  I hadn’t found what I was seeking when Schorzat peered in through the half-open study door. “You were looking for me?”

  “I was. If you’d close the door.” I gestured toward the chairs. “When I met with Geuffryt last week, he mentioned the need for more ships. This morning’s newsheets seemed to confirm that. I talked with Khalasa, and she indicated there was a power struggle in the Council…” I sat down behind the desk.

  Schorzat took the chair across from me. “It’s been that way for years. I do know that the various Sea-Marshals have felt that the Council was sacrificing Soldidaran prosperity and security to petty politics and that the Collegium should use its influence to break the stalemate over financing fleet upgrading and expansion…”

  “I can’t believe the Sea-Marshals said that. Exactly how did they manage to get that across without saying it?”

  Schorzat laughed. “I wasn’t there. According to Master Dichartyn, Sea-Marshal Valeun said something like, ‘It would be for the best if an impartial party with influence could persuade them to move beyond their petty concerns…’”

  “Power and golds aren’t ever petty concerns, especially if you’re the one facing the loss or either.”

  “No…but the Naval Command types place a higher priority on control of the oceans than upon squabbles over control of the purse.”

  I wouldn’t have called the struggle over control of the Council a squabble, not when the outcome might change the entire future of Solidar, but I just nodded.

  Schorzat shook his head. “In some ways, you’re just like Master Dichartyn. When you give that nod, it’s acknowledgment without approval. What don’t you agree with?”

  “We’re approaching a turning point. Solidar is changing. The High Holders won’t be able to hold on to control of the Executive Council for too many more years. The entire world, and not just Solidar, has a stake in how that change is handled. It’s more than a squabble over how to fund our Navy.”

  “You think the Ferrans don’t want a solution?”

  “The longer it takes the Council to work it out, the longer before we get new and better ships and the more likely they’ll be able to do what ever they want in Jariola.”

  “Jariola isn’t exactly a place where either of us would want to live.”

  “No,” I agreed, “but Jariola is just the first step toward Ferrum supplanting Solidar. I think most of Terahnar would prefer that not occur. Don’t you?”

  “I wish I could be certain of that,” Schorzat replied.

  “Remember, the Ferrans killed scores of young imagers, and they’ve attacked Jariola twice in less than ten years. I don’t recall us starting any wars recently.”

  “You’re right. I do worry that all this could get out of hand.”

  “That’s possible,” I said. “It’s always possible.” Personally, I had the feeling that matters were already well out of hand and that we didn’t know how far out of control they were.

  “Is there anything else?” he asked.

  “Not right now. I’m sure there will be…as soon as I think of it.”

  He nodded and slipped out of the study.

  I had barely returned to seeking a report that might not have even existed when Gherard appeared at the door. “Sir, Maitre Dyana would appreciate a word with you.”

  “Thank you.” I closed the cabinet, imaged the hidden catches locked, and headed upstairs.

  Her door was open. I stepped into her study and closed it behind me, then settled into the center chair across from her desk.

  “You wanted to see me?”
>
  “I did. How did your meeting with Geuffryt go?”

  “He’s concerned about the state of the fleet and worried about Cydarth. He also admitted that the Navy is missing several tonnes of Poudre B.” I went on to tell her almost everything—except for my suspicions about why he had a certain hold on Juniae D’Shendael, although I did mention he was a cousin.

  “Did he explain any more about Cydarth?”

  “No, he didn’t. He just said he had a trusted source who’d never been wrong, but that he had no proof.”

  “Is there anything else I should know?” she asked quietly.

  “The Civic Patrol is getting very short of captains…” My explanation of the events of Samedi was as brief as I could make it.

  “Do you think Cydarth is involved?”

  “I have no idea. He would certainly remake the Civic Patrol if he became Commander, but there’s no certainty that the Council won’t reappoint Artois.”

  “They don’t like change.” Dyana’s voice was dry.

  “Speaking of the Council…can you tell me the situation there…or should I be arranging meetings with the Executive Council myself?”

  She shook her head. “Normally, Rholyn would be briefing you, but he was called away, and I’ve been meeting with those Councilors still in L’Excelsis. So I thought I’d tell you what’s been happening and get your thoughts as well.” She cleared her throat, then went on. “The High Judiciary issued an immediate ruling. The rules of succession mandate that Glendyl becomes the head of the Executive Council until the next formal meeting of the Council, at which time the Council can name whoever it wishes to succeed Suyrien. They made it clear that the Charter of the Council does not mandate a High Holder as head of the Executive Council, but that such is the default choice if there is not a unanimous choice, and that, in the event or death or incapacity of the head of the Executive Council, the order of succession follows the precedence set up in the Council Charter…until, of course, the Council meets and makes its will known.”

  “So you’re dealing with Glendyl.”

  “For the next month.”

  “You look worried,” I said. “What else has happened?”

  “There were a score of explosions in Thuyl last Samedi. One of the grain freighters caught fire. Half the piers are unusable.”

  “Thuyl? Is that a High Holder–controlled port?”

  She frowned. “None of them are controlled that way.”

  “Is it one used more by High Holders?”

  “I’d judge so. The ironway line south from Cheva to the port is owned by Ealthyn.”

  “Some sailors suspected of being Jariolan agents have been tracked to his lands, according to Schorzat.”

  “You’re suggesting that their conflict is also being played out here.”

  “That would be to the advantage of Ferrum.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Do I dare ask what else has gone wrong?”

  “I’m certain there’s more, but even with the express trains on the ironway, it takes time for reports to get here.”

  I rose from the chair, inclined my head politely, and headed back down to my study.

  I really wanted to get out to Third District station, but I wasn’t recovered enough to hold full-strength shields. Yet I didn’t want to meet with either Artois or Cydarth until I’d actually talked to Alsoran and some of the patrollers about what had been going on in Third District…as well as to Horazt or Jadhyl, if I could.

  Waiting felt like the Namer’s game, and I didn’t like it at all.

  33

  My shields were much stronger on Mardi, and I did manage to get up early enough to partake of a few of Clovyl’s exercises, participation motivated by the knowledge that I did need to get myself back into some semblance of physical conditioning. I decided against the four mille run. After breakfast, I saw Seliora and Diestrya off to NordEste Design in the duty coach. Diestrya waved vigorously from the window, and once they were out of sight, I turned and walked quickly to the quadrangle and to my study in the administration building.

  There, I sat down and tried to take a fresh look at the situation. I was in charge of Collegium security, and security for the Council, and to a degree not exactly defined anywhere, even for Solidar itself. In more than a few ways, I felt as though I were underwater, with no way to swim to the top. Or perhaps, it was more like always being late in discovering things. Just as I’d figured out why something had happened, something else happened.

  I remembered Master Dichartyn telling me, years before, that the key to success lay in anticipation. “You have to know who your opponents are and understand what they want, why they want it, and how they are likely to try to obtain it, if possible, even before they do.”

  I was certain that the Ferrans were behind all the major difficulties, but had I really considered what they wanted? My initial assumption had been that they had merely wanted to create so much disruption in Solidar that we would be hampered and unwilling or unable to support the Jariolans after Ferrum attacked. I’d also considered that they might be indirectly supporting various factors and their associations in their efforts to gain political supremacy over the High Holders on the Council. But chaos always leads to more chaos, and, as a result, all the problems Solidar and the Collegium faced wouldn’t be resolved even if the Ferrans had vanished from Terahnar. There was also a strong possibility that the Ferrans had decided to act against Jariola precisely because Solidar had so many obvious but unacknowledged problems. Logically, it made more sense to deal with the internal problems first, if only to strengthen Solidar and get them out of the way. I had the definite feeling that approach wouldn’t work. First, none of the factions in Solidar wanted to change, and they’d all protest that the time to change what had worked for generations wasn’t during a war. Second, with the deaths of Maitre Poincaryt and Maitre Dichartyn, and the incapacity of Councilor Suyrien, the Collegium didn’t have the established “presence” or the working relations to engineer political and economic changes. Third, even if we could get past the lack of political power, which was certainly possible, even if I had to resort to tactics I’d prefer not to use, there was still the much larger difficulty of getting such changes accepted, particularly by the factors and freeholders.

  My thinking was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Come in.”

  The door eased open, and Rholyn stepped inside, closing it behind him. “Rhenn…”

  I was surprised at the hesitation in the salutation, but, given the situation, I realized the awkwardness of it all, even as I stood to greet him. Rholyn was a good twenty years older than I and had been a Maitre D’Structure longer than I’d been an imager. He didn’t want to acknowledge the change in relative rank, and yet he didn’t want to offend me, either.

  “What is it? You look like the bearer of tidings of dubious cheer.”

  In fact, he looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was blotchy. His right eye twitched.

  “Maitre Dyana asked me to let you know that Councilor Suyrien died last night. The services will be on Jeudi at the Council Anomen. At the second glass of the afternoon.”

  “Thank you. I hadn’t heard anything. When I didn’t, I’d hoped that he might recover.”

  “It’s probably a mercy he didn’t. He was shot in the head and in the chest. Draffyd imaged out bone fragments and stopped the worst of the bleeding, but there never was much hope. It was astounding that he lived as long as he did.”

  That didn’t surprise me. I’d seen the determination behind Suyrien’s cultivated good cheer and ease of manner. “Will the family be seeing anyone…Or do you know?”

  “I haven’t heard. Neither has Maitre Dyana.”

  I nodded, then said, “We haven’t had much of a chance to talk. If you have a few moments, I’d like to hear your thoughts on some of the problems facing the Council.” I gestured toward the chairs, then seated myself behind the desk.

  “I h
ave the rest of the morning.” He shook his head as he sat. “It might take that long.”

  “How will Suyrien’s death change the Council?” I prompted.

  “Not for the better. Ramsael is personally open to some degree of change. He recognizes that change is inevitable and necessary, but he’s an even stronger believer in change through consensus. Most of the High Holders don’t want change. That’s their consensus.”

  “What might change their minds?”

  Rholyn laughed, softly. “Only very convincing proof that they’d absolutely be worse off without change.”

  “As you pointed out,” I replied, “change is inevitable. Managed change is usually less violent and less costly than unmanaged change. In terms of government, unmanaged change equates to revolution.”

  “They don’t believe that the Collegium will allow revolution to occur, because we’d be swept away by it as well.”

  “That’s an open invitation for Maitre Dyana to ally the Collegium with Glendyl or Caartyl.”

  “We don’t want that. Caartyl’s more of a reactionary than the High Holders, and Glendyl, given half a chance, would remake Solidar in the pattern of Ferrum.”

  Rholyn’s brief comments were tending to reinforce my thoughts that we might be better off dealing with the Ferran problems first. But then, that was what he doubtless intended.

  “Why did Caartyl try to become acting head of the Executive Council? Was he trying to do something in particular?”

  “He was,” replied Rholyn. “He was trying to make certain that Glendyl didn’t issue some statement that might have been conciliatory toward Ferrum. He also didn’t want Glendyl to stop the orders transferring ships from the southern fleet to the northern fleet.”

  “That sounds as though he already knew what had happened in the sea battle that was reported yesterday.”

  “Anyone who’d followed Naval matters could have guessed that any battle would be bloody. We’ve lost much of our edge over the past five years.”

  That, unfortunately, made sense. “What’s Caartyl’s greatest weakness?”

  “His belief that he knows best, and that what ever is best for the artisans and guilds is best for Solidar.”