Imager's Intrigue: The Third Book of the Imager Portfolio (24 page)

I had to give Geuffryt credit. Outside of the momentary paling and the slight dampening of his brow, he hadn’t reacted.

“You’re only surmising,” he said with a faint smile.

“No. I know. Proving it might be harder, but I’m an imager, and if I go to certain members of the Council and suggest that’s the case, as well as pointing out that the Army Depot Commander vanished and that no one still investigated matters there…” I shrugged, then paused. “I’d rather not. You’d rather I didn’t. So what exactly is rumored to be missing?”

“We don’t know. There’s nothing missing on the scale of the bombards. But we have five major depots and some twelve smaller port and fleet depots, with tens of thousands of tonnes of munitions. We have four hundred armed vessels. Some only have three-digit cannon, but those still require munitions.” He shook his head. “We’re fairly certain we’re not missing something on the order of a thousand tonnes, but accounting errors, errors in resupply…how do you tell the difference between that and a tonne or so of Poudre B bags or the like that might have been deliberately misrouted or diverted? A few tonnes aren’t that much spread across four fleets.”

“But they’re quite a bit spread across five or ten cities and set in the right place.” I nodded. “You could have told me that to begin with. You didn’t. That suggests…a number of possibilities. How much do you think you’re missing?”

“There are two dubious manifests from the main resupply depot for the rework yard at Solis. They’re for one and two tonnes of bagged Poudre B for the standard five-digit guns.”

“Those are the most common fleet guns, I take it?”

Geuffryt nodded.

“And the manifests are over a year old,” I suggested.

“If you already knew…”

“I don’t, and I didn’t. It just had to be that way. All of this has been planned years in advance so that people would tend to forget. Or, as you put it, believe that the discrepancies were merely clerical errors. Are there any other dubious manifests or unaccounted-for munitions?”

“Nothing more than a few stones’ worth here and there. Those can add up, but we think it’s unlikely that outside agents would try to gather munitions that way.”

I had to agree with that.

“Let’s talk about a certain note I received, written by a certain lady we both know, which contained information of a suggestive nature.” I looked directly at Geuffryt. “You’ll find that I am both discreet…and direct. As my predecessor noted, I am inclined to weary quickly of hints and indirection.” I paused to let him consider the words. “Who do you believe is transferring funds to the Artisan on the Executive Committee and why?”

“We don’t know. The transfers are blind.”

“Try investigating a factor or trader named Alhazyr, if you haven’t already.” With only the slightest pause, I asked, “What exactly is your relation to Juniae D’Shendael?”

He smiled politely. “It’s not that much of a mystery. I’m a cousin on her mother’s side.”

“Are you, perhaps, an expert in hunting weapons? Their construction, and…their explosive fallibilities?” That was a guess, but I had a feeling about such matters.

“What a truly strange question…I scarcely know what to think.”

I’d glimpsed enough. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For answering the question. It explains a great deal.”

“You’re a very dangerous man, Maitre Rhennthyl, but had Juniae not had demonstrated proof of your good will, you might still be in a precarious position.”

“I’d prefer not to be in such a position, or even to have anyone suggest that possibility.” I smiled. Now…I knew why Juniae had conveyed the message, and how her only male relative who could have inherited had perished years before. What I didn’t know was why the message had been given to me long before it was even likely I’d end up with the position that events had thrust upon me. Or had it been designed as a convenient way of getting the information to Master Dichartyn? I almost nodded. That was the most likely answer, not that the method of conveyance mattered so much as the reasons for letting the Collegium know. “Let’s talk about the subcommander of the Civic Patrol.”

“Is it wise to discuss a superior?” He raised his eyebrows.

I was getting tired of his superciliousness. “You obviously are worried about Cydarth. From a professional point of view or a personal one…or both?”

“I won’t deny the personal element, but that’s secondary to the professional.”

The personal is never totally secondary to professional, as I well knew, but the professional had to be the matter at hand. “Why does he want to remove or replace Artois?”

“Artois’s mother was the daughter of a High Holder who committed suicide when Haestyr’s grandfather ruined him. Cydarth’s father was killed by Iryela D’Ryel’s father, merely as a demonstration of power to the factor for whom Cydarth’s father worked. Cydarth believes Artois is an apologist for the High Holders, and that Artois hopes some day to prove that he is worthy of his background.”

That didn’t seem to make much sense, so far as Artois was concerned. “Artois has always been impartial. Sometimes harsh, but I’ve never seen bias. How does Cydarth fit in with the Ferrans? Or the Jariolans, or Stakanarans, or whoever?” I asked.

“He fits in with none of them. He will support—or not oppose—so far as he is able, anyone or anything that will reduce the power of the High Holders. He believes he is totally fair and unbiased in his views of what is best for Solidar.”

“Don’t many of us feel that way?” I asked softly.

After a moment, Geuffryt nodded. “That’s part of the trouble with Artois and Cydarth. Each of them believes what he wants to do is best.”

“But…?” I prompted.

“I suspect you already know, Maitre Rhennthyl. Artois believes in the law as it is. Cydarth believes in a ‘good’ beyond the law. To date, he’s stayed within the law…so far as anyone knows.”

“You’re suggesting that those fund transfers may represent…what?”

“I don’t know. I only have the word from a trusted source that they exist. The source has never been wrong, but there’s no proof. The funds in the Banque D’Excelsis account in the branch that suffered the explosion have never been touched.”

“So how can you arrange an explosion without a rationale?”

“I don’t believe I said anything about arranging something like that. I was merely aware of it, as were you.”

There wasn’t any point in pursuing that. “I presume that you’re watching the Naval yards and piers closely these days.”

“Far more closely.” He smiled politely. “What else can we do?”

I changed the subject. “Just how capable are the Navy’s fleets in limiting the Ferran and Stakanaran…adventuring? I understand that there’s been some debate in the Council. Do you really have enough capital ships?”

“We do the best we can with what we have. For the past ten years, the High Command has been recommending an expansion of thirty capital ships to deal with the increased numbers of Ferran warcraft. We also need more smaller vessels. So far, although we’ve been outnumbered at times, our tactics and training have proved superior. We cannot count on that continuing.”

“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.

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 patroller, 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.