L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

“Rhenn…” Veblynt interrupted my musing. “You have the strangest look.”

“I was wondering about Broussard,” I evaded, “and how he escaped being killed in the explosion.”

“He was looking for a way to do in Estyelle, anyway.” Veblynt shrugged. “You’re thinking that Vyktor had something to do with that?”

“I have suspicions.”

“Vyktor’s capable of it, I’d judge, but, if he did, Broussard outwitted him and turned matters his own way.”

“If Broussard did,” I asked, “then why has he been so silent?”

“You think he’s afraid of what’s behind Vyktor?”

“Broussard can’t be stupid.” I pointed out the obvious to see what Veblynt would say.

“He’s anything but stupid. He’s likely waiting for someone to act against Vyktor.”

“That would mean he either knows someone will or has a way to push someone into doing so. I haven’t seen either.”

“You’re looking,” Veblynt said with a faint smile.

“Looking doesn’t mean acting. Neither the Collegium nor the Civic Patrol is inclined to act if there isn’t some sort of evidence of wrongdoing. Suspicion isn’t enough. Nor is knowing. We have nothing to tie Vyktor to the Place D’Opera explosion or anything else, or even to Glendyl.”

Veblynt nodded. “That is often the problem with pure knowledge. You’ve gotten around that in the past, Rhenn. I’m certain you will this time.”

“It’s harder when everyone is watching you.” My words came out sardonically.

He laughed. “Then set it up so that they’re watching someone else.”

I couldn’t help but laugh myself, as I realized that he’d given me an idea for a solution. It was just too bad that it was for a different problem. “I will take your words to heart, and I thank you for coming.”

“If I find anything of value to you,” he said as he rose, “I’ll send it.”

“Thank you.” I stood as well.

“And keep on distrusting Cydarth. He’s tied up in it all somehow as well. I don’t know how, but…” He shrugged, then smiled. “It is a pleasure to see how well you’ve done after so much adversity has come to your family.”

“Friends help.”

“True friends help,” he replied.

I couldn’t disagree with that.

After I walked Veblynt to the main doors of the administration building and made my way back to my study, I thought about his last words. I’d always distrusted Cydarth, and Veblynt had always been right, if often veiled, in his assessments. Yet Geuffryt had tried to get me to attack Cydarth. Why? If… if Geuffryt happened to feel himself a “patriot” who was out to destroy the influence of the Collegium, was the idea to show that Cydarth had been spitefully wronged by Artois’s allies, such as the Collegium? That seemed rather frail. Yet…if Cydarth did happen to be getting Ferran funds through the Banque D’Ouestan, and Geuffryt had discovered that through Kearyk, was there any connection at all between Geuffryt and Vyktor? Or was Geuffryt trying to expose Cydarth as a Ferran plaque through me, because he couldn’t reveal how he’d found out about the transfers? Much as I disliked and distrusted Geuffryt, that appeared the most likely possibility…and that bothered me greatly.

For the remainder of Mardi, I did my best to concentrate on duties that would not lead to greater consternation with the Council and the Collegium. That meant, among other things, that I read a number of reports, said little at the midday meal in the dining hall, and ended up going home through an ice fog more than a little dissatisfied.

Exercise on Meredi morning helped…somewhat.

I was still stewing and trying to determine what else I could do when Beleart knocked on my study door at a quint past eighth glass and carried in a large envelope, marked in the stripe that indicated urgent private delivery. He slipped away, closing the door.

I opened the envelope. Inside were a single sheet of paper, printed on both sides, and a folded note card. The document was also signed and sealed at the bottom. I read through it twice. It was a loan and a secondary lien on Glendyl’s engine works, executed by Viktor D’Banque D’Ouestan on behalf of the bank for 25,000 golds, and it was dated almost a year earlier, the thirty-second of Fevier. The provision that interested me most was the one allowing unannounced inspections of the subject property by designated agents of the lender.

I opened the note card and read the two lines written there.

“Obtaining this last year was far too easy. Be most careful.”

Under the words was an ornate “V.”

The package raised yet another question. How had Veblynt obtained it? For what purpose? And why had he sent it? What role was he playing in the swirl of intrigue? The warning suggested he’d been “allowed” to take or steal the document, but he’d obtained it before I’d left the Civic Patrol, and that suggested a different agenda. What that was, I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to do anything with the document until I knew why.

Instead of straining to figure out items about which I hadn’t enough information, I decided to try to tie up another loose end and go find Maitre Jhulian. He was in his study and welcomed me in.

“What can I do for you, Rhenn?”

“You’re the expert on law and water rights, and I’m hoping that you can clarify exactly what’s going on between the eastern High Holders and the freeholders around Piedryn.”

“The law is clear. Nothing else is.” His smile was wintry. “Precedence in water rights is based on seniority. The oldest right rights come first, regardless of where they are exercised on the watercourse. This creates a practical problem when a junior rights-holder is located upstream of a senior rights-holder and there is insufficient flow to satisfy both rights. The historic manner of resolving the claim has been through the courts, but courts do not move so fast as water does. So the justicers in the area have taken to issuing preemptive allocations based on flow levels.”

“And since the senior rights-holders are mainly High Holders, the allocations are considered as favoring them?”

“Exactly. There’s one complication. In peak flow years, or at times when water can’t be used, some can be diverted under ancillary rights. Broussard bought a single hectare-foot of absolute water-rights on the Piedra River, at a point just before it flows into the Chela, and then applied for ancillary rights. He was using those ancillary rights to fill a storage lake, and in dry years, he was irrigating crops from it.”

“At a time when others couldn’t and crop prices were high, I presume.”

Jhulian nodded. “So Haebyn applied for ancillary rights, which he’d never needed before, and Broussard brought the matter up to the Justiciary, pointing out that his ancillary rights preceded Haebyn’s, and, since excess water couldn’t be diverted near the headwaters without prejudicing other rights-holders, Haebyn shouldn’t be allowed to divert until Broussard had exercised his rights. The justicer upheld Broussard, pointing out that the law was clear on precedence and that precedence applied to ancillary rights as well.”

“That was probably the reason why Broussard’s impoundment dam ‘failed,’ then?”

“That was effective for this year, but Broussard still holds the rights and will doubtless have the dam repaired before the spring run-off.”

“What’s the situation before the Council? Will Haebyn attempt to change the law?”

“He’s been working hard to persuade Councilors. It’s a very bad idea, especially now, because what it would do is send the message that the law is only immutable when it benefits High Holders and will be changed if its precedents can be used against them.”