Imager's challenge ip-2

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by L. E. Modesitt


  “I think not.” I paused. “I did not mean to imply more than I said, yet you could have changed places with her, and few would have noticed the difference.”

  “I must confess to being slightly older than Iryela.”

  I managed a polite and warm smile. “Will you also confess to being distant cousins . . . or some such?”

  “Alas, you have discovered one of my secrets, sir.”

  “You really are related?” asked Mother.

  “In a very roundabout way, but I would appreciate it if you did not mention this. Explaining can be so troublesome.”

  If explaining was so troublesome, why had I been set up to reveal the relationship? To give Veblynt some advantage in dealing with Father? Or was it the first step in High Holder Ryel’s campaign against me? Or something else entirely?

  “Family ties-and unties-can be most tedious, and better not plumbed in depth,” said Veblynt smoothly before turning to Ferdinand. “We will be building an addition to the mill shortly.”

  “You’re looking for stone and brick, like before?” asked Ferdinand, his voice hearty.

  “As always.”

  I glanced at Seliora, but she had already begun to speak. “Eliesa . . . are all the High Holder balls as stiff and formal as Rhenn has said?”

  “They are most formal, and the slightest misstatement can lead to difficulties.” Eliesa laughed, if with a slight brittleness behind the sound. “That is why so often so little is said, for all the words that are exchanged. You are very fortunate to have wealth without holdings.”

  “I am fortunate to be able to contribute through honest work to what we have,” Seliora replied warmly. “I’ve found it most rewarding to help create things of beauty. I must say that I pity anyone who must scheme and plot just to hold on to what they have, especially when they create nothing of lasting beauty or substance. Even worse are those who seek to destroy others because they spoke the wrong words.”

  I managed to suppress a smile at Seliora’s ability to say everything so warmly and apparently guilelessly.

  “And you, Rhenn, what do you think?” asked Veblynt.

  I shrugged. “I was an artist. Now I’m an imager. We all do what we can, but it seems to me that scheming and plotting leaves one with very little in the end.”

  Veblynt actually frowned thoughtfully. “There are certainly High Holders and even some factors who would disagree with that.”

  “I’m sure they would, but that’s why they’re what they are and why I’m what I am.”

  Ferdinand laughed, perhaps more loudly than necessary. “Well said, Rhenn.” He turned to Veblynt. “You know, that’s one of the things I like about bricks and stone. I’d almost forgotten.”

  Almost everyone at the table looked confused.

  Following a moment of silence, Ferdinand went on. “Worked stone and well-fired bricks are what they are, and they stay what they are. They don’t rot like wood, and they don’t say things that they don’t mean, like all too many folks do.” Then he looked at Father. “Excellent lamb, Chenkyr. Crisped just right, and I can’t say that I’ve had better new potatoes in a long time.”

  After that, conversation stayed limited to food, the weather, the harvest, and general observations about just how irrational the Caenenans were with their dualogic god. Dessert was a solid apple and raisin cobbler, followed by brandy.

  When both the other couples had left, while we were waiting for Charlsyn to bring the coach, I turned to Father. “I know you’ve always been close to Ferdinand, but why did you decide to invite Veblynt? He’s nice enough, but I didn’t realize that you were that close.”

  Father stiffened, as he always did when I asked a question he didn’t like. “I just did. Besides, he hasn’t been buying the offcasts as much as he once was.”

  “Dear . . .” Mother interjected, “wasn’t it Ferdinand’s idea? Didn’t he say that it had been too long . . . or something like that?”

  “Oh . . . that. He also said something about the fact that Veblynt had contacts, and that they might be useful if the Council had to order more uniforms and cloth goods.”

  “That poor Eliesa,” Mother said. “I feel for her.”

  I wasn’t sure whether I did or not, not after my brief dance with Iryela at the Council’s Harvest Ball. I also had the feeling she was far more closely related to Iryela than she was saying.

  At that moment, Charlsyn pulled the coach under the portico, and I eased the front door fully open, taking Seliora’s arm.

  “Will we see you two next week?” asked Mother.

  “No. We’re having dinner with her family and friends next Samedi. I don’t know about Solayi yet.”

  “Thank you so much,” Seliora said. “The dinner was lovely, and you both have been so warm and kind.”

  “You’re very good for Rhenn, dear,” Mother said. “I’ve never seen him so happy.”

  “He’s very good to me. Thank you for a charming evening.”

  The warmth of her words sent a chill up my spine that lasted until we were in the coach and headed back to NordEste Design. The glass windows chattered in their frames with a gust of wind that foreshadowed the coming cooler winds of fall.

  “What did you think of Veblynt?” I asked Seliora.

  “He’s definitely the son of a ruined High Holder, and he won’t forget it. He doesn’t like Ryel. He’d be more than pleased if you did in Ryel, but then he’d try to have your throat cut.”

  “No . . . he’d use me, and find some way to have me vanish without a trace. He still thinks of himself as a High Holder.”

  “You’re right.” Seliora nodded. “She’s not much better, either.” She smiled once more in the dimness of the coach. “That was a nice touch with the comparison to Iryela. You scared her.”

  I hadn’t seen that, but I trusted Seliora’s feelings about such things. I didn’t understand what role Ferdinand was playing, especially if he’d been the one to suggest that Father invite Veblynt, unless he had a grudge against the man . . . or unless the suggestion was a warning to Father, who tended not to accept words of warning from others. I’d have to see what Master Dichartyn had to say about Veblynt, if he had anything at all to offer. For the moment, there was little enough I could do, except enjoy the little time left with Seliora.

  “Next Samedi?”

  “Fourth glass.” Seliora grinned. “You’ll have to put up with my family and their form of maneuvering.”

  I had the feeling that would be far less stressful, but I didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, I put my arms around Seliora for the rest of the coach ride to NordEste Design.

  She didn’t object. In fact, she had the same thought.

  3

  One of the drawbacks to becoming a master, which Master Dichartyn had not been slow to point out, was that I had to take my turn as the duty master for the Collegium every so often on a Solayi-and this Solayi morning was my first duty. Because it was, Master Draffyd, who had helped heal my injuries, would remain at his home in the family dwellings on the north end of Imagisle so that I could send a messenger if something for which I was not prepared did in fact occur. During the previous weeks I’d been briefed on the duties, and from what I could tell, the duty master’s task was basically to be present in case of problems, and to handle those that he could and to refer those that he could not to those who could-basically to Maitres Poincaryt, Dichartyn, Jhulian, or Dyana. I could go anywhere in the Collegium, just so long as the prime at the granite duty desk knew exactly where I was. If necessary, in the case of an emergency involving an imager, I could even leave Imagisle, but I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t have to do that. There was also a secondus on standby duty in a small room off the receiving hall.

  I’d never had duty as either a prime or a second, because such duties generally didn’t fall on those still in training, and because I’d come to the Collegium at a far older age than most imagers. My first duties had not occurred until I was a tertius at the Council Chateau.

>   Before breakfast, I walked the grounds-those around the quadrangle, and that was a pleasure compared to the exercise routine and running I had to do every other day of the week. Since I was supposed to spend a good portion of my duty time in or near the administration building, immediately after breakfast I’d taken my copy of the patroller procedures to the conference room where I’d first been questioned. I’d told Haensyl, the duty prime, when I returned, although he was less than twenty yards away, and there I sat, reviewing the procedures.

  I’d just finished the section on apprehension and charges when Haensyl appeared, his youthful face showing a certain worry. “There’s a young little sansespoir here, with his taudischef.”

  A slum child with what amounted to an area gang leader? I stood quickly. “I’ll be right there.” After the problems with Diazt and his brother, who’d also been a taudischef, I wasn’t all that eager to deal with one, but I didn’t suppose anyone was.

  Haensyl hurried out, and I followed.

  Two figures stood waiting before the polished granite desk in the receiving hall, a chamber where walls, floors, and columns were all polished gray granite. I’d discovered all that gray did have an effect in sobering people. One of those waiting was a squarish, almost squat, man with limp black hair cut in the jagged fashion affected by some of the younger adult male taudis-dwellers. He stood no more than to my nose, but there was a toughness about him. The other was a child, probably no more than ten, if that.

  “This is Master Rhennthyl,” Haensyl said.

  The squat man studied me. “You don’t look old enough to be a master.”

  “I am. Rhennthyl D’Imagisle, Maitre D’Aspect. You are?”

  The man’s posture changed, if slightly. “I beg your pardon, Master Rhennthyl. I’m Horazt.”

  “You’re the taudischef where?” I asked politely.

  “Estaudis off South Middle, west quarter. This is Shault here. He . . . he did . . . he created a copper . . . a very bad copper. . . .” He extended an oval piece of copper.

  “Ma . . . she said that we didn’t have no coins.” Shault’s look was both defiant and fearful.

  I took the copper and studied it. It was either a badly imaged copper or a bad forgery, but I couldn’t see why anyone would go to the trouble of forging something as small as a copper. “Shault . . . I’d like you to walk over to the front steps with me. The rest of you stay here.”

  Horazt frowned, but nodded to the boy.

  The boy followed me tentatively. Once we were just outside the administration building, I took a good copper from my wallet and showed it to Shault. “This is a good coin. I’d like you to look at it closely and then see if you can image a better-looking copper.”

  “You won’t hurt me ifn I do?”

  “If you can, you can keep the good copper, but I want you to sit on the steps and see if you can image it onto the stone beside you.”

  Shault sat down. “You really mean it?”

  I handed him the copper. “You can keep it if you can make another.”

  He looked at the copper for a long time, then set it on the stone step.

  The second copper wasn’t much better than the first, but he was definitely an imager.

  “Good. I need the copy, but you can keep the one I gave you. You can stand up.”

  He wobbled as he stood, and I grasped his shoulder to steady him. “Is Horazt your father or brother?”

  “Nah . . . he’s Ma’s cousin, but he’s the taudischef for the west quarter.”

  What that meant was that the finder’s fee would be double-a gold for Shault’s mother and a gold for Horazt. “What’s your mother’s name?”

  “Chelya.”

  “Just Chelya?”

  “That’s all. Da died when I was little. Ma said it was elveweed.”

  “You’re going to stay here on Imagisle and be an imager, Shault.”

  “I can’t go home?”

  “It wouldn’t be safe for you,” I pointed out. “You know that. Here, you’ll have your own room, and three meals a day, as much as you can eat. After a few weeks, your mother can come visit you, and after a longer time, if you want to, you can see her on end-days. You’ll have to learn to read and write.”

  “I know my letters.”

  But little more, I suspected. “You’ll also get paid a few coppers a week.”

  “Better’n getting beaten . . . I guess.”

  That was about all I’d get in concessions. “We need to tell Horazt.” I stayed close to Shault as we walked back into the receiving hall.

  “Well?” asked the taudischef.

  “He has imaging ability.”

  “I knew it.”

  “Horazt, do you have a full name, an official one?”

  “A’course I do. Horazt D’Estaudis.”

  I should have guessed. “As taudischef, you get a draft on the Banque D’Excelsis for two golds. One gold is for you, the other is for Chelya. You will make sure she gets all of it.”

  “Couldn’t do otherwise, now, could I?”

  I smiled. “I will find out if she doesn’t get it, and I’ll also find out if anything happens to her, and if either happens . . . the west quarter will have a new taudischef.”

  For a moment he studied me. Then he laughed, wryly. “You know Mama Diestra, don’t you?”

  I nodded. “I also work with the civic patrollers.”

  “She’ll get her gold, Master Rhennthyl.”

  “I thought she would. You’ll have to pick up the draft here tomorrow. I’ll give you a promissory note for it now. If you don’t want to go far, one of the duty imagers will escort you to the branch of the banque here, and you can cash the draft for the golds without leaving Imagisle.”

  “I have to wait till then?”

  “The banques aren’t open on end-days, and we don’t leave golds out. Does anyone sensible?”

  A sly smile flitted across his lips. “Some might.”

  “I’ll be right back with the note for you, Horazt.”

  I was glad I’d checked over the duty desk earlier, and that Master Dichartyn had briefed me on the procedures for intaking. The forms for the notes were in the second drawer, and all I had to do was fill in dates and names and the amount, and the reason. I did have to wait a moment for the ink to dry before bringing it back to the taudischef.

  Horazt took the promissory note. “You write good, Master Rhennthyl.” He slipped it inside his shirt.

  “I’d hope so. I was once an artist.”

  At that, he stiffened once more, and just slightly. “Things’ll be quiet in the west quarter.”

  “I’m sure that Commander Artois will be pleased to know that.”

  “Yes, sir.” Then Horazt bent slightly and looked at Shault. “Boy . . . you listen to Master Rhennthyl. You do what he says, and if you got problems, you tell him. You got a chance to be someone. Someone your mama’ll be proud of. You understand?”

  Shault nodded somberly.

  Horazt stood and looked at me. I understood the look, and I nodded. “We’ll do our best.”

  He looked at Shault again, then turned and walked out of the receiving hall.

  “Haensyl . . . get Kuert Secondus. Shault needs something to eat before anything, and we need to get him set up with a room.”

  The younger primes still needed their own chambers, but that section of the east quarters was arranged so that all the younger primes were quartered close together.

  Kuert arrived in moments, his gray eyes taking in the worried-looking Shault. Then the second looked to me.

  “Kuert, this is Shault. He’ll need to eat something right away. He’s imaged several things, and he’ll need a room. I’ll have one checked while he’s eating. After he eats bring him back here.” That wasn’t the strict procedure, but Shault was pale, and I doubted that he’d hear or remember much until he ate.

  “Yes, sir.”

  After they left, I checked the available quarters and, thankfully, there were two rooms left i
n the section for the very young primes. Once we’d settled on a room, I asked Haensyl, “Is there anyone who you’d trust to take Shault under their wing?”

  “There’s Mayra. She just made second. She’s good with the young ones, and she’s here now. I saw her just a bit ago.”

  “If you’d see if she’d help settle young Shault.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Haensyl hurried off, but it seemed like only moments before he returned with an angular and gawky girl-close to being a young woman.

  “Master Rhennthyl.” She inclined her head.

  “The Collegium needs your skills with young Shault. He’s a taudis-boy, and being here is going to be hard on him for the next few days. Could you show him around today?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “He’s eating now.”

  “I can wait, sir.”

  “Thank you. Where are you from, originally?”

  “Gheant . . . it’s a village outside Extela.”

  “Do you miss the mountains?”

  “No, sir. I broke my arm chasing goats in the rocks. . . .”

  Before all that long, Kuert and Shault returned. Shault looked far more alert, and the paleness had vanished.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, Master Rhennthyl.”

  I looked at Kuert and Mayra. “Mayra will accompany you two and spend a little more time with Shault. He’ll be in room nine in the junior prime quarters. I’ll need a few words with him first, though.”

  They both nodded, clearly familiar with that aspect of matters, probably more so than I was, I suspected.

  “Shault . . . if you’d come with me.”

  We walked to the conference room without speaking, and he took the chair on the side of the table. He looked lost in the large chair.

  “Shault . . .” I offered quietly. “You need to understand a few rules about Imagisle.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The first rule is that you are not to try any more imaging except when a master tells you to try. The reason for this is simple. Imaging certain things will kill you. Imaging other things in the wrong place will also kill you. You don’t have to give up imaging, and you won’t. You will learn how and where to image. . . .” From there I went through the preliminary advising, although I did change the way I offered certain things, based on what I’d learned about the way things were done in the taudis.

 

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