Imager’s Intrigue

by L. E. Modesitt

  “You mean that you wanted some commitment that I would retain an interest in Third District.” I took the envelope and slipped it into the inside pocket of my waistcoat.

  “Of course.” He smiled.

  “And in the Civic Patrol,” I added. “What is the worst probable fate for the Patrol?”

  His smile vanished. “I would have thought—”

  “What I think is what I think. You have been Commander for ten years. I would like your views. You have had mine on Third District.”

  He frowned.

  I waited.

  “The worst fate?” He paused. “The worst fate for the Patrol would be to accept injustices as a necessary part of life in L’Excelsis. Injustices are often not preventable, but they should never be regarded as necessary for some good.”

  “You have certainly made that clear. How might the Patrol come to accept injustices as necessary?”

  “There are likely many ways. The Council could reduce our funding. That would result in accepting more injustices. Patrollers could become less honest and accept favors and worse. Patrol officers could become beholden to those with golds. All those have happened in the past, and the outcomes were never good for the Patrol or for L’Excelsis.” Artois shrugged.

  “Or officers could just become more accepting of injustices among those without guild connections or golds?” I suggested.

  “That is also possible, and perhaps the most likely if care is not taken.”

  “It’s been suggested that justice in the cities has not always been to the benefit of the High Holders.” So far as I knew, I was the only one who had even voiced that, but I wanted a reaction from Artois.

  Again, for a moment, he did not speak. “I had not thought of it in that way, but it is likely so. When there is more equal justice in the cities, those on the great estates may well have greater incentive to depart.” He paused. “Justice does not lie merely in the law, but in all aspects of life. A patrol officer cannot change what is beyond the law, and he cannot interpret the law differently because of what he cannot change. You understand that. That does not preclude legal action to improve matters. Your actions have shown that. Others have been critical of such actions, you realize?”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “I shouldn’t keep you, Maitre. You might want to have a word with the subcommander before you leave.”

  “I should. Is Alsoran’s promotion effective?”

  “It is. As of today.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure we will talk in the future.”

  “I would hope so.”

  After leaving Artois, I made my way down the upper hall to the next study, rapping on the door and then stepping inside.

  Subcommander Cydarth rose from behind his desk. “I hear you may be leaving us.”

  “In the more direct sense,” I replied. “I’m replacing Maitre Dichartyn.”

  “I was sorry to hear about his death, but you have much more hands-on experience with the Patrol. That could benefit both the Patrol and the Collegium.”

  “I would hope so.” I thought about adding something about benefit being in the eye of the beholder, but decided against it. “Have you had any success in tracking down any of those who destroyed so many buildings?”

  “No. I can’t say that we have. The only ones we’ve ever caught were the ones you killed and those found dead in Third District. It was a pity you couldn’t bring one in alive.”

  Those found dead in Third District? I’d have to ask Alsoran about that. “I did bring in some of the druggers. They were poisoned here in headquarters. That was a pity, too.”

  “They wouldn’t have said anything.”

  “We won’t know that, though,” I replied.

  “No, we won’t.” He laughed in that deep rumbling voice. “There are always things we won’t know.”

  I smiled. “There are things we can’t prove. That doesn’t mean we don’t know them.” I smiled. “I just wanted to let you know about the change personally. Oh, Alsoran has been promoted to captain of Third District, and, of course, I’ll be advising him as he feels necessary.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m sure I’ll see you from time to time.” I smiled, nodded, and stepped out of his study, down the hallway and down the steps to the main entrance.

  When I left Patrol headquarters, occasional flakes of snow were drifting out of a light gray sky. Even with my heavy gray winter cloak over an equally heavy waistcoat, I was grateful that the duty coach was waiting. Lebryn waited for my instructions..

  “Third District station, please.”

  “Yes, Maitre.”

  As the coach carried me up Fedre, I could see, just short of Sudroad, an area of rubble to the right. Once there had been a line of row houses there. Another of the explosions set by the Ferrans? Why there?

  We reached Third District station without difficulty, and, again, I had Lebryn wait. I wasn’t about to risk hacks at the moment.

  Huensyn was on the duty desk, and he immediately stood as I walked in. “Sir!”

  I gestured for him to take his seat on the stool behind the high desk. “Is Lieutenant Alsoran around?”

  “The lieutenant stepped out for a moment, Captain. He said he’d be but a quint, and that was more than a quint ago.”

  “I’ll wait. You can tell me about a few things. I noticed some buildings had been blown up in First District. Did we lose any here?”

  “No, sir.” Huensyn smiled. “We did find a few dead bodies, fellows in black, though.”

  “They must have run into trouble.” That was good and bad. I just hoped the taudischefs had disposed of the explosives, but most likely they’d sold them, not that there was anything I could do about it. I’d have to talk to them, but that could wait, because what was done was done, and even if there had been markings on the explosives, they would have doubtless been Solidaran markings.

  “The lieutenant sent a report to the Commander that you’d stopped two groups already, and that another two had apparently run into difficulties.”

  “I don’t imagine he got a response.”

  “No, sir.”

  At that moment, the station door opened. Alsoran smiled broadly as he caught sight of me. “Captain! I’d heard that some of the high-ranking imagers’ dwellings were shelled. We didn’t know…”

  “I was laid up for a day or so, but here I am.” I nodded to Huensyn. “If you’ll excuse us, we need to talk over some matters.”

  “Yes, sirs.”

  We walked to Alsoran’s study. I let him close the door.

  “Before we discuss anything, you need to open this envelope.” I withdrew the oblong and handed it to him.

  He took it, then opened it slowly, as if he feared what might be inside. He unfolded the heavy sheet and read it, then read it again. Finally, he looked up. “You’re leaving, then?”

  “I don’t have a choice. I’m needed at the Collegium.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t ever expect this. Is it your doing, sir?”

  I smiled and shook my head. “Commander Artois wrote it before I talked to him or met with him. It was sealed and waiting in his desk when I saw him earlier today. I did tell him that I’d be happy to offer you any advice or expertise you needed.”

  He was the one to shake his head. “I still don’t…”

  “You’re good at what you do, and the taudischefs trust you. They did back when you were a patroller first. They also know that I support you. What other lieutenant or captain could do as good a job here as you can?”

  He offered a crooked smile. “No other officer would want to follow you, not so long as you’re still with the Collegium. You’re in charge of imager security, aren’t you?”

  “There’s no such position, but I have duties along those lines.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Does following me bother you?”

  “No, sir. I’ve never thought I was anything but a good solid patroller. I think I can be a good
solid captain.”

  “So do I, and L’Excelsis needs solid captains.” I smiled. “I can’t stay long, but I’d like to announce the changes to those here in the station.”

  Alsoran smiled. “I can’t stop you.”

  As I’d suspected, as patrollers had come in for various reasons, either between rounds or to report offenses, they’d managed to remain, and a half-score were scattered not-so-casually in the area around the duty desk. When I stepped out of Alsoran’s study, most eyes flicked toward the two of us.

  I walked into the middle of the open area. “I have an announcement to make.”

  The murmurs died away.

  “Because of changes at Imagisle, I’ve been recalled to duty there. I’ve appreciated the effort all of you, and all those who are not here, have made. But I would like to tell you that from today on, Captain Alsoran will be the one running Third District, as he already has been in my recent absence.” I turned and inclined my head to Alsoran. “Captain.”

  “Thank you, Maitre Rhennthyl.” He paused, then added, “We all appreciate what you have done. You will always be welcome here in Third District.”

  “Thank you…all of you.”

  I wasn’t a believer in long farewells, and I’d never put any personal items in the captain’s study. So I didn’t have to take anything with me when I left a short time later.

  Lebryn took South Middle out to the Midroad, then followed it around the Guild Square to where it became the Boulevard D’Imagers. Two blocks past the Guild Square, we passed another pile of gray rubble—where, weeks before, had stood an older three-story structure that had housed L’Excelsis Indemnity. That had to have been a deliberate target. I’d have to check the list Artois had promised, once it arrived, to see if there was a pattern to the buildings that had been damaged or destroyed.

  With all the traveling, I didn’t get back to Imagisle until the first glass of the afternoon. Beleart caught me before I even reached my study with a request that I meet with Maitre Dyana as soon as I returned. I did hang my winter cloak in my study before I headed upstairs.

  Gherard motioned for me to go into Maitre Dyana’s study even before I said a word. As always, I closed the door behind me. Dyana was writing something and nodded for me to sit down. I took one of the middle chairs and waited.

  After several moments, she replaced the pen in its stand and looked up. “You left Imagisle. Are you up to that?”

  “For short periods. I took a duty coach and met with Artois. He’s promoted Alsoran to captain to succeed me, and he’s promised a listing of the damaged buildings once it’s complete. I also met with Cydarth. Is he still pressing the Council to make him Commander?”

  “Neither Rholyn nor I have heard anything along those lines.”

  “He’s likely biding his time. He might be waiting for something to discredit Artois.”

  “While Artois is hoping something will appear to discredit Cydarth,” she suggested.

  “Will it?”

  “That is what you should be telling me,” Maitre Dyana replied.

  I thought for a moment. “Geuffryt wanted me to reveal the payments to Cydarth…and to Caartyl. He didn’t say that, but he did insist that his source was trusted and had never been wrong. What he said bothered me then, and the more I’ve thought about it, the more it bothers me. If the Collegium revealed something like that, even if it were true, the disclosure would create an impression we don’t need. Further…the funds have never been touched. The Navy wants more ships. Who controls the Civic Patrol shouldn’t matter to the Naval Command. Who controls building the ships—or keeping them from being built—does matter. That strongly suggests that the whole business was a ploy to get the Collegium to act in some way to further the Navy’s interests. Revealing that we know about fund transfers, even when we don’t, would reduce trust in our impartiality.”

  “That part is clear enough,” Dyana replied. “But why would the Naval Bureau want to reduce our influence when we’ve supplied them with materials and new devices and when we’re more inclined to support modernizing the fleet?”

  “I don’t have an answer to that, but I can’t see anything else that makes sense.”

  “Neither can I. It might be best if you devoted time and thought to seeing what else you can discover that bears on that.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Have you found out any more about the Ferrans?”

  “There were two more teams with explosives. They were found dead in Third District. The explosives are missing.”

  She shook her head. “That’s somewhat better than losing people and buildings. You think it was your taudischefs?”

  “They’re not mine, in that sense, but I’m certain it was. I haven’t had time to chase them down.” Nor did I want to spend extended times holding full shields when I had the feeling that I wouldn’t learn that much.

  “Three hundred people died in the explosions here. The numbers are similar in Kherseilles, Solis, Estisle, and Westisle.”

  I’d noted the numbers, already. They were surprisingly low. “There’s another concern. So far, I haven’t seen any attacks or explosions affecting large manufactories or shipworks, and there were only two affecting the ironway. Also, with the exception of the agents we’ve found in Third District, and those killed on the bombard barges, we haven’t found a single Ferran agent.”

  “Every one who has been found is dead, and all the deaths are connected to you,” Maitre Dyana pointed out.

  “I’ve thought of that. But some of those deaths occurred when I was in no shape to do anything.”

  “Most people wouldn’t know that.” She rose. “That’s two concerns for which we need answers, Maitre Rhennthyl.”

  I stood and inclined my head. There wasn’t much point in saying more.

  Back in my study, I reviewed the reports, but didn’t find much there.

  Later in the afternoon, I checked with Kahlasa, but she hadn’t found anyone who was missing barges in the L’Excelsis area, and it would take longer to find out from concerns downriver.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon with the reports and with maps, trying to find some link that might make sense. My head was aching by the time I walked into the house close to fifth glass.

  “Dada!” Diestrya threw both arms around my legs.

  “Diestrya.” I picked her up and hugged her, although I wasn’t so sure that I didn’t need the hug more than she did.

  Seliora appeared about the time I set our daughter down. “I sent off a note to your mother, like you told me. Are you sure you’ll be up to dinner on Vendrei?”

  “Physically, I’d be up to it now.” My mother’s dinner invitation was her way of forcing me to tell her how I really was. “She’s never gotten over my evasions when I was severely injured before we were married.”

  “Mothers do worry.”

  “True enough.” I settled into the big chair in the family parlor, glad to be off my feet, even though I hadn’t stood all that much during the course of the day. But it had been a long day. “We didn’t have much of a chance to talk last night because Diestrya was so fussy, but something Ferlyn had said the other day struck me. I still can’t quite say why.”

  “You might tell me what he said.” Seliora perched on the end of the settee.

  “He was talking about the way lands are…I guess you’d say…structured. How, unless Solidar becomes more organized, Ferrum will supplant us as the leading land of Terahnar. I almost got the picture of a land filled with manufactories and little else, where even the crops are harvested by machines, perhaps by great steam monsters like the Ferran land-cruisers. Where would that leave places like NordEste Design?”

  “We’d survive. We’re already a manufactory. We’re one that requires great skill, but we use machines for everything that we can. The ones who would suffer would be the carpenters and cabinet makers. It will happen sooner or later, because the same card techniques we use for the looms should be able to be ad
apted to wood-working, even metalwork.”

  “Why hasn’t it happened already?”

  “The guilds have opposed it. That’s another reason why we only belong to the guilds as individuals in different fields of artisanship.”

  “Don’t they know?”

  “I’m sure they do, but what we do is so costly that it’s clear we’d never take away jobs. Father and I already figured out how to design lathes to produce hundreds of simple table legs and tops, but to make it profitable, we’d have to produce hundreds, maybe thousands, every year.”

  “If you can do it…”

  “Someone will, sooner or later,” Seliora said. “But the laws limiting the number of crafters and artisans under a single guildmaster would have to be changed. So would the requirement for all products for dwellings or buildings to be made by the family or owner or by a guildmaster or his journeymen or apprentices.”

  “Has anyone in your family heard about Glendyl or anyone on the Council trying to do something to grant more power to the factors? Or to reduce the power of the guilds?”

  She shook her head.

  “Still…it wouldn’t happen that way,” I mused. “They’d try to bring it about by saying that what ever it was would benefit everyone, and that the guilds were trying to line their own purses at the expense of everyone else.”

  “Aren’t they?” asked Seliora. “We can make a plain chair for much less than the crafters charge. We don’t do it because there’s no point in it for us. Even the woodworks in Third District could charge far less than it does, if we weren’t spending so much on continually training workers. So could the paper mill, and that’s with a facility that’s too small to be as efficient as it could be. How much longer can the guilds keep the better machines out?”

  I fingered my chin, thinking. Was that why Caartyl had often allied himself and the other guild counselors with the High Holders? Because both had a vested interest in keeping matters as they were and had been? I had another thought. If Cydarth in fact happened to be innocent of receiving the funds Geuffryt had directed Juniae D’Shendael to write about and Caartyl was not…what would be the political implications if both transactions were revealed?