Imager’s Intrigue ip-3

by L. E. Modesitt

  “What about the ten capital vessels under debate?”

  “They would provide a good beginning for fleet modernization.” Geuffryt smiled. “This proposal has been brought up before, and it has been turned down on the grounds that the Council would have to increase taxes to pay for the construction and fitting out.”

  “And the factors oppose any more taxes on finished goods, while the High Holders oppose Glendyl’s value-added tax?”

  “The Navy does not take sides on issues before the Council, Maitre Rhennthyl. We only know what it takes to protect Solidar, and we convey that to the Council.”

  “In short, the Council doesn’t seem to be listening?”

  “The Council has received our reports and recommendations. It governs Solidar, and it must make the choices on how to raise revenues and how to spend them. We offer our best counsel and live with their decisions.”

  Polite as his words were, Geuffryt obviously had some concerns with the funding for the Navy.

  “Have the Stakanarans been increasing their fleets?”

  “They’ve been building a substantial number of fast, shallow-draft gunboats in order to control the coastline of Otelyrn. They’ve also added ten or eleven capital ships.”

  We talked for another half glass, but while I learned a bit more about the comparative strengths of other Naval forces around Terahnar and slightly more about the extent of his duties and sources of information, it wasn’t much more than I had already surmised…or learned.

  When I returned to the Collegium, I put in another three glasses reading reports and trying to get a better feel of what had been happening all across Solidar. By the time I spent all that effort, not that I was anywhere close to being finished, my head was aching, and my eyes were burning, and I was ready to leave and walk home.

  I just hoped that Seliora and Klysia were finished with the heavy cleaning…and that Diestrya was in a cheerful mood.

  30

  When I woke on Samedi morning, I could raise and hold my full shields without pain or extra effort, but I had the feeling that I’d be in more than poor shape if much impacted them. That decided, I lowered them and washed up, gingerly because all too many parts of my body were still sore, although the purple had faded to a faint, if hideous, yellow. Seliora had taken pity on me and had dealt largely with Diestrya for the past few days, but I did help in getting Diestrya dressed before we headed down to breakfast.

  We were close to finishing when Seliora said, firmly, just short of sharply, “Rhenn!”

  “What?”

  “Your mind is somewhere else. I’ve asked you twice what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh…” I managed a sheepish grin. “About…things.”

  She shook her head. “Just finish up and go to your Collegium study and read all those reports you’re worrying about. Diestrya and I will be fine.”

  “Is Shomyr’s party still today?”

  Seliora looked at me. “Are you sure you should go?”

  “Why not? All I’ve done is talk to people and read reports.”

  “You’re not yourself yet…are you?”

  “No…but I can hold my shields for a bit and do some imaging.” I grinned. “Besides, I’ll be with you, and you’re very good with the pistol.”

  “Mother would appreciate it…”

  “In other words, we really should go.”

  “Then that’s settled.” She paused, then added, “I’ll have a mid-day meal around half-past noon.”

  “I’ll be here. If you don’t mind, I’ll go back afterwards and work until a bit before fourth glass. That should give us enough time, shouldn’t it?”

  She did smile.

  Even with a break to eat, the day was long, and by the time I set aside the reports and replaced them in the cabinets at a quint before fourth glass, my head was aching again. I did feel that I had a better grip on what was happening in Solidar. Mostly, though, I had an even greater conviction that someone very clever had been working for years to set up and implement a large-scale plan to disrupt everything in Solidar, putting bits and pieces in place one at a time, with no one piece or part indicating much about the overall plan.

  Seliora and Diestrya were waiting when I got back from the administration building.

  “We’re ready.”

  “Good.” We walked from the house across the Bridge of Desires.

  We only waited a few moments before a newer hack appeared with a driver who wore a neatly brushed brown wool jacket and matching gloves and boots.

  “Where to, sir?”

  “Nordroad and Hagahl Lane.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I opened the door and let Seliora climb up and in before helping Diestrya in after her and then following them.

  “Did you find out any more that you needed to know?” she asked after the hacker pulled out onto West River Road, heading north to the Nord Bridge.

  “Oh…I’m still trying to put the pieces together, but it’s getting clearer. We’ll have to see.” After a moment, I asked, “Do you think Odelia and Kolasyn will be there?”

  “I’d think so. They were asked. But…after everything…”

  “You have your doubts,” I said.

  “I do.”

  “Mama doubts,” said Diestrya.

  “Yes, she does,” agreed Seliora. “You will, too, when you’re older.”

  We crossed the bridge and were a mille up the Boulevard D’Este when the hack turned west onto Lyrique-away from the theatre district.

  “He shouldn’t be turning here,” said Seliora.

  “No. I think we’re in for some difficulty. Can you deal with the hacker?” I murmured. “If necessary?”

  Seliora nodded.

  The hack slowed as it jolted over uneven pavement in a narrow alleyway. Then it came to a stop in a what looked to be a vacant loading yard behind a ware house whose wagon docks were boarded shut. The hacker vaulted down and opened the door, stepping back. “There are some people who wish to see you. I do trust that you won’t make this any messier than necessary.”

  As he spoke, I finally located four men standing in the shadows, dressed in the same light-absorbing garb I’d seen before. I nudged Seliora.

  She shifted her weight on the coach seat, if to ready herself to step out, then said, “Oh…I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

  As the brigand hacker started to smile, she fired her pistol. Once was enough, since the bullet went right through the middle of his forehead.

  While she was engaged, I imaged small chunks of stone into the hearts of the four brigands with the wide-barreled weapons.

  Even so…one of them did manage to fire his weapon, and a second weapon went off when the attacker dropped it on the stones before he pitched forward. The explosions were like small cannon…or so it seemed. My shields held…barely, and what amounted to small grapeshot rattled across the uneven stones of the loading yard. I was so dizzy that I had to put out a hand against the inside panel of coach to steady myself.

  “That was…big boom,” affirmed Diestrya.

  “Very big,” I managed, trying to blink away the flashes of light in my eyes.

  “Are you all right?” asked Seliora.

  “I will be…if I don’t have to handle anyone else for a little bit.”

  We just sat in the hack for a moment. I was glad that the hacker had set the brakes and that the dray-horse was well-behaved, because I was in no shape to climb up and drive, and while Seliora would have been better at it than I, far better, I really didn’t want her exposed.

  After a time, half a quint perhaps, the worst of my dizziness had passed, although I doubted I could raise or hold shields for more than the briefest of instants, and I finally stepped down from the hack.

  There were still five bodies there, and no one else.

  Seliora peered out, but I held up a hand. “Someone’s coming down the alley.”

  “Is there trouble here?” Following the words was a was a beefy patrolle
r, from Second District, since we were still in that part of L’Excelsis.

  “There’s been some,” I called back. “Some brigand took a hack and tried to rob and murder us.”

  The patroller approached slowly.

  I stepped away from the coach, showing open hands, and turning so he could see the insignia on my visor cap and cloak.

  He looked at me, then at the dead hacker, and the four bodies in the shadow of the loading dock…and the heavy weapons lying there. “Sir?”

  “I’m Captain Rhennthyl from Third District. We’ve had a little difficulty here. These five wanted to rob us and then kill us. I don’t know them, and I don’t have any idea why.”

  “You…you’re the imager captain.”

  I nodded.

  He looked at the bodies again, then at the body of the false hacker sprawled across the driver’s seat. His eyes went to Seliora, holding Diestrya by the hand, and looking innocently concerned.

  “We’ll be happy to accompany you to Second District Station…” I offered.

  At that point an older patroller appeared, calling, “Skaryt!” He stopped short and looked at me. “Captain Rhennthyl…what happened?”

  I explained again. Behind me, Seliora was trying to explain to Diestrya why we weren’t going to Grandmama Betara’s house quite yet.

  The older patroller, whom I didn’t recognize, shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to be a captain these days. Captain Kharles, Captain Boylet, Captain Hostyn…and now you.”

  Hostyn? “I’m sorry. I’ve been tied up with the mess on Imagisle. What happened to Captain Hostyn?”

  “Same sort of thing as they tried with you…except Captain Hostyn got shot. They say he’ll be fine, but it’s likely to be into the new year before he’s fully back. Captain Jacquet and Captain Subunet will probably be glad you took care of this crew.”

  “We didn’t plan it that way. I can tell you that. We were just going to a family dinner.”

  “No, sir. I’d be certain you didn’t.” He shifted his weight, then looked at the hack. “Skaryt, best you head back and get some help…and send the wagon.”

  The younger patroller hurried off without looking back.

  “You ever see any of these fellows before, sir?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I should have noticed that the hacker was a little too well-dressed, but I was thinking about a few other things.”

  He asked all the questions a good patroller should. When he had, and we’d finished answering, there were four other patrollers and a wagon headed down the alley.

  “You have many explosions here in Second District last weekend?” I asked.

  “Not like Sixth District or Fourth, no, sir. Just two on the south side of Nordroad. That was more than we needed.” He paused. “What can we do for you, sir?”

  “We’ll be needing a hack, since this one didn’t finish the trip.”

  “We’ll walk out to the street with you.” The patroller gestured to his partner.

  As we walked toward Lyrique, escorted by the pair, Seliora looked to me. “Do you really think we should…?”

  “We might as well.” I forced a grin. “Just keep the pistol handy.”

  She nodded.

  When we reached the street, we didn’t have that long before a hack appeared.

  As the hacker eased to a halt, the older patroller asked, “Might I ask where you’re headed, Captain?”

  “Nordroad and Hagahl.”

  “Would you be minding, Captain, if we rode with the driver?” asked the older patroller. “That’s still in Second District, and we’d not want you having any more troubles.”

  “I don’t know about the captain,” Seliora said with a dazzling smile, “but Madame Rhennthyl would be honored.”

  The patroller actually blushed.

  “I thank you very much,” I added, “and I would appreciate it.”

  Seliora and Diestrya didn’t say anything until we were inside a hack and traveling toward NordEste Design.

  “With all this…do you still think…?” Seliora asked.

  I knew she was referring to Cydarth, but didn’t want to say more, not when Diestrya was with us and with patrollers sitting less than a yard or so away.

  “It’s hard to tell. I’ll need to see what else has happened.”

  She nodded.

  We were largely quiet on the rest of the ride, except, of course, for Diestrya’s comments about the pretty paper flowers held by a street vendor.

  Once we reached NordEste Design, it was clear Bhenet had been watching for us. He had the door open and stood under the portico waiting, even before the three of us were out of the hack.

  While I held Diestrya’s hand, Seliora slipped out of the hack, then lifted our daughter down.

  I stepped out and looked at the two patrollers. “Thank you. It’s been a long week.”

  “Yes, sir.” They both were smiling.

  “And thank you from me,” added Seliora warmly.

  This time, they both blushed.

  We walked as quickly as Diestrya allowed, across the sidewalk and up to the portico, where Bhenet waited, and then up the inside staircase. As soon as we reached the main hallway at the top of the stairs, the twins scooped up Diestrya to take her upstairs to the nursery with the other children.

  Betara stepped forward and hugged her daughter. “You’re good to come. Both of you.” She turned to me. “You look tired, Rhenn. Are those bruises on your face?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “Let’s just say that it’s been a very long week and the hack ride here was more interesting than either one of us planned. We’re looking forward to a meal with family.” I paused. “It has to have been upsetting here, too, with explosions…and everything.”

  “We did have everything locked and barricaded here last Solayi and Lundi,” Betara said, “but things settled down by Mardi.”

  “No one was hurt?”

  “No. The mob that came down Nordroad avoided us.” She smiled. “But they might have taken notice of all the rifles pointed out from the upper-level windows.”

  That didn’t surprise me. There were only a few windows on the street level of NordEste Design, and those were to work-rooms and manufacturing spaces, with bars and heavy shutters.

  “We’re happy you’re here.” Betara stepped back. “Dinner’s not quite ready. I need to check with Aegina.” She hurried off.

  Odelia and Kolasyn had been standing behind and to the right of Betara. Odelia moved toward Seliora.

  “Seliora…Rhenn…I’m sorry.” Tears streamed down Odelia’s cheeks. “I didn’t know…” She put her arms around Seliora. “I didn’t know…”

  “It’s all right,” Seliora said. “I know you were upset.”

  “No…I was so mad at Rhenn…. thought he wasn’t doing…what he could…” Odelia was still sobbing. “Kolasyn’s friend, Caesaro, he’s a patroller…told him…Rhenn went out every night…with patrollers…faced the weed dealers’ killers…bombs and rockets…”

  After a time, Seliora slowly disengaged herself and looked at me. “You didn’t mention bombs and rockets.”

  “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  Then they both looked at me.

  All I could do was shrug and offer an apologetic smile. The shrug hurt. In a different way, so did the smile, since I should have said something earlier.

  31

  Solayi morning, we slept late, or as late as Diestrya would let us, then stumbled down to breakfast in nightclothes and robes. We needed the robes, because the wind howled outside and sleet pattered against the windows…and the stoves in the kitchen and parlor were cold because we hadn’t loaded them before we’d gone to bed. The first task was to get some heat. I did hurry things up slightly by imaging flame into the coal. Even that left me with a headache, but the kitchen and parlor began to warm far more quickly than they would have otherwise…and Seliora could start cooking sooner.

  As we finished eating, Seliora fixed her eyes on me, with th
at determined look I understood all too well. “You’re not going anywhere, not even to your study at the Collegium. I saw how starting the stove hurt you.” She paused. “You are resting. You’ll never recover if you keep going out and getting into trouble.”

  “I didn’t go out to get into trouble.”

  “When you go out, you get into trouble, and you’re not strong enough to deal with something like yesterday again.”

  “Dada is too strong,” observed Diestrya.

  “He is, but he needs to rest.”

  I took a last swallow of tea that had cooled to lukewarm. I couldn’t help but think about what had happened across L’Excelsis and the other larger cities in Solidar-explosions, riots, mobs, Civic Patrol officers being shot, the attack on the Collegium.

  “Well?” persisted my dear wife.

  “I surrender to your most reasonable proposition.”

  “Good. You watch Diestrya while I wash up, and I will while you get dressed.”

  I did clean up the dishes and the kitchen as I kept an eye on our not-quite-wayward daughter, but even that minimal effort took three times as long as it should have, because three-year-olds have insatiable curiosity, usually involving items such as coal scuttles, hot stoves, or grimy pokers followed immediately by dashes toward white table linens.

  Once again, I was reminded why Seliora wanted to keep working as a design engineer for NordEste Design and not spend every waking moment with Diestrya. While Seliora didn’t dawdle in getting dressed, she also didn’t rush. But she did give me a grateful smile when she relieved me, and I carried the kettle of warm wash water up to the bathroom.

  When I came back downstairs, wearing older, heavier, and more comfortable imager grays, Diestrya was peering out the window of the family parlor, entranced by the flow of water across the outside of the panes. Pleased with her absorption and hoping it would last, I settled onto the settee beside Seliora.