L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

I did ask Schorzat what he knew about Caellynd.

His response was close to what I’d expected. “He’s been recently posted to the Naval Command. He was the senior Fleet-Marshal for close to seven years, and the one who was so successful in the first Ferran conflict. The Council picked him as Valeun’s deputy and successor.”

“Was that Suyrien’s doing?” I’d asked.

“Maitre Dichartyn never said anything. Neither did anyone else, but Caellynd was a successful Fleet-Marshal who pled the case for more modern warships before the Council.”

There was nothing in the records or files, and, again, all I had were suspicions. I was worrying even more about Dartazn and the imagers by Mardi morning. As soon as I’d entered the administration building, I’d asked Beleart if we’d received any dispatches. We hadn’t, of course, and I knew we shouldn’t have, but I’d still hoped and dreaded what might have arrived.

The reports that flowed in didn’t tell me anything new, but reminded me that I not only needed to standardize them, but to find a way to require Patrol Commanders to provide more details, and that would require Council action. I could require those changes of regionals and the collegia heads, but without improved Patrol data, there wouldn’t be a significant change.

Finally, at just before ninth glass, Ayma, one of the newest primes, knocked on my study door to inform me that a Factorius Veblynt had arrived.

I hurried out to the reception hall, where he was waiting. Every time I saw Factor Veblynt, I was surprised, because he made an impression in memory larger than his actual height. He was slender, although his carriage was perfect, and he was even a touch shorter than Seliora. He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. This time, the corners of his eyes lifted, as if he were truly glad to see me. Often they didn’t. “Rhenn! I understand that you’re a Maitre D’Esprit.”

“Due to the misfortunes of others,” I demurred.

“Nonsense. You may hold what ever position you do in the Collegium for that reason, but even I know that the ranks of the Maitres are due to ability alone.”

We walked from the reception hall back to my study, where I closed the door.

Veblynt surveyed the chamber, then settled into the chair in front of the desk. “Such surroundings aren’t designed to let you take yourself seriously.”

“No, but whether by design or custom or both, I have no idea.” I added quickly, “You are most kind to come here, and I appreciate it.”

“Anytime the son of a friend travels to my mill to see me, especially when he’s one of the highest imagers, it merits a return call.” He smiled. “Especially when I was already going to be less than a mille away.”

“It was kind, nonetheless, and appreciated.”

“You obviously had something in mind.”

“I did. I’d heard rumors that you sought competing bids for a loan in order to build your new paper mill.”

Veblynt shrugged. “I could have built it with my own capital, but that wouldn’t have left any reserves. Even so, the Banque D’Excelsis didn’t want to offer favorable terms, and I’d have been a fool not to seek other terms. They don’t like it when they can’t make more on their loans than the enterprises they fund make on their operations. Once I did get another commitment, they became more reasonable. By the way, I must congratulate you and Seliora on the training you provide the apprentices at your taudis mill. Some of them will be working at our new facility.”

“Thank you. Facility? It’s not a paper mill?”

“It’s a mill and a printing facility. We’ve been making blank documents for factors, everything from ledger sheets to printed forms for banques, but the demand was more than we could handle at the old facility. The new one will just make document paper, and the rest is for the printing side.”

“And you went with another banque to get the funds?”

He looked sharply at me. “Rhenn…are you after me for something?”

“No. I’m after information. From what I heard, you know some things that might fill in pieces of the puzzle.”

“Given what I’ve done for your father, I’m going to trust you on this.”

“I know. You helped him through a hard time with some Navy contracts. He didn’t tell me, either.”

He smiled wryly. “I might have known you’d figure that out. What are you looking for?”

“I’d heard you used the threat of going to an outland banque. I’m interested in that banque.”

“That’s not much of a secret. It couldn’t be if the threat were to work. It was the Banque D’Ouestan, but you already knew that, or you wouldn’t have asked.”

“They don’t have a branch here, though.”

He nodded slowly. “I dealt with a Vyktor D’Banque D’Ouestan. He has a place of business on the Avenue D’Theatre.”

“How did you find out about him?”

“From one of Glendyl’s clerks.” Veblynt smiled with a certain satisfaction. “Unlike some factors, I talk to more than a few clerks.”

“Do you know if they make many loans or advances here in L’Excelsis?”

“Very few, I suspect. Just enough to provide cover for Vyktor, I would guess. He was happy enough to write out a commitment, as if he knew he wouldn’t necessarily have to make the loan. He could have, but he’s no more a true banque representative than I’m a High Holder. He wasn’t in the slightest interested in buying forms, even at a very reduced price.”

“An interesting comparison,” I observed.

“But accurate.”

“How widely is that known, do you think?”

“Not all that widely, I would judge. He is knowledgeable enough about finance, and he does make loans and handle other funding transfers through the Banque D’Ouestan’s corresponding arrangements with the Banque D’Rivages and the Banque D’Kherseilles, and doubtless one or two others. He is often gone for periods of time, and I’ve never known a banque that allowed its representatives to be out of touch so much. I’d judge that he’s also a representative of either Ferrum, Jariola, or Stakanar. That’s just a judgment on my part.” He looked directly at me. “I don’t think I’m telling you much you don’t already suspect.”

“Do you know any others with whom he’s had dealings?”

“There are rumors that Broussard received funding through him, and I mentioned Broussard’s name in passing.” Veblynt offered a crooked smile. “Vyktor doesn’t like him. I couldn’t tell why from his reaction.”

“What do you know about Broussard?”

“He’s a freeholder. He’s also extraordinarily wealthy…and he would squeeze the last drop of water from a sponge in the desert and try to sell it to a man dying of thirst. He’d betray his first-born son or an infant daughter for a single gold.”

I found myself fingering my chin. “I haven’t heard anything about him since that explosion at the Place D’Opera.”

“That’s true. I hadn’t thought about that. It’s certainly not like him to be so quiet.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if Broussard had taken funds from Vyktor and double-crossed him in the process. I’d always worried about why a High Holder would use explosives against a factor. That simply didn’t follow the High Holder traditions of dealing with their enemies, as I’d discovered; but if Vykor happened to be representing Ferran interests…

I was also beginning to worry about Geuffryt. I’d heard nothing from Valeun, nor from any other source, and it would have been a grave mistake to have mentioned his name at Juniae D’Shendael’s reception. I’d never managed to arrange it so that I was alone with either Caellynd or Juniae, in the latter case certainly because she wanted to avoid any hint of personal closeness.