L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

“It’s good that you see that.”

We moved out to join the other dancers in a stately waltz.

“I can’t say that I know more than a handful of people here,” I said with soft laugh.

“No, but more than a few want to see you. That’s why you were invited. A handful or more will find ways to put themselves in your path as the evening progresses.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Frydryk’s worried, you know. So is Kandryl.”

“Because of Glendyl’s death?”

“You didn’t call it suicide, I notice,” Iryela murmured.

“I’m not sure it was, but I don’t think Kandryl and Frydryk have anything to worry about. The damage is done. It will be years before Frydryk’s shipworks can complete a modern fast battlecruiser, even if the Council gets around to agreeing to build more ships. Slowing down fleet modernization was what the Ferrans intended.”

“You’re not finished, are you, Rhenn?”

“Iryela, dear, how could you possibly ask that?”

“Because you don’t leave things undone.”

“I’m not having the best of fortune. I still don’t know anything about Johanyr. No one we’ve contacted does, either.”

“That may be for the best.”

I couldn’t help but agree, but I wasn’t about to say that.

“I hated to send Kandryl to deal with Lhoryn, but he did well. The man makes Dulyk look like the Nameless.”

Considering the vices of her late younger brother, that was quite a statement, although I’d never heard much good about Lhoryn. “You were selling some land?”

“Only a thousand hectares, but we still wanted a fair price.”

Intellectually I understood that a thousand hectares was small for a High Holder, but emotionally was another matter. “That was when Kandryl found out about Glendyl’s death.”

Iryela nodded. “He said that Lhoryn smiled.”

How many people had Glendyl alienated? I didn’t dwell on that. “How are the twins?”

“Kyana takes more after her father…”

When the music ended, I escorted Iryela back to Kandryl, who had obtained two goblets of the red wine. I turned back toward Seliora, who was talking to Juniae D’Shendael, when a man with a supercilious smile and back silk formalwear appeared in front of me. Unfortunately, I recognized him.

“Maitre Rhennthyl…I apologize for the intrusion, but I’ve wanted to make your acquaintance for some time. I’m Alhyral D’Haestyr.”

“You come from a noted lineage, and I understand that your fiancee has excellent taste.”

“Ah, yes, and I hear that you’re a most deadly fellow.”

The jocular informality grated on me, as I was certain Alhyral intended. “I’m certain that’s overstated.”

“I’ve been thinking, Maitre.” There was the slightest emphasis to my title, one that bordered on scorn, and I wondered how much he’d already had to drink…or if he happened to be that obnoxious without the aid of wine. “Sea-Marshal Valeun was saying that the Navy needs more modern vessels.”

“That’s true. Assistant Sea-Marshal Geuffryt has also voiced the same concerns. Has he mentioned them to you?”

After the tiniest hesitation, Alhyral replied, “Only in passing. If that is true, as you seem to indicate, why is the Collegium so opposed to spending on them?”

“We’re not opposed at all. Might I ask who would think we’d be opposed to that when we lost two of the highest-ranking imagers to Ferran machinations?” I smiled.

“Yet you have done nothing.”

“The Council does not meet until next week, and we have but one vote of fifteen in the Council. It might well be that the Council’s votes will change after the Councilors begin to meet next week. Not your sire’s, of course, since he has always supported better ships.”

“Do you expect me to believe that anything will change?”

“I have no expectations for your beliefs at all. What will be, will be. Some Councilors opposed building new ships when Suyrien the Elder was Councilor because they thought he would take advantage. Others thought Councilor Glendyl might…”

“Terrible thing, there, with Glendyl…but that’s what happens when one gets too ambitious…or too greedy.”

“…And too overextended,” added another voice, that of another man I didn’t know.

“Oh, this is Petryn D’Lhoryn, my friend.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said pleasantly.

“The same.” Petryn offered a minimal nod. “There are those who believe that the Collegium supports the factors, discreetly, notwithstanding the fact that the current Maitre comes from a High Holder background. Your background is from factoring, as I recall.”

“My family is in factoring; I was a portraiturist.”

“My condolences,” offered Alhyral.

“And mine,” added Petryn.

“That portraiture training has enabled me to read beyond words and faces, and to realize that ability often has little relation to the grace with which words are uttered, or the indirectness of the insult couched as flattery or condolence. But then, not having had training in verbal hypocrisy, I am afraid that my comments are hopelessly direct. I do hope you enjoy the ball, both of you. Good evening.” I offered the barest hint of an inclined head, as taught by Maitre Dyana years before, and turned, still holding shields on the off chance that one of them might stoop to physical violence. They had enough sense not to.

After departing Petryn and Alhyral, I returned to Seliora and Juniae D’Shendael.

“Greetings,” offered Madame D’Shendael. “Your wife is most charming, as well as perceptive.”

“Far more so than I.”

“You are both observant, I think.” Juniae smiled. “What do you think of those here?”

I waited to let Seliora speak, but she glanced to me. So I replied, “It would seem an odd grouping. Among others, I’ve noted the Chief Councilor, a high justicer, the Commander of the Civic Patrol, several heirs of impeccable breeding and with courtesy less than that…”

“Not to mention the second-highest-ranking imager in Solidar, and the youngest ever to hold that position,” added Juniae. “There are also no Sea-Marshals present, although several were invited, but not, of course, Caellynd.”

“He seemed quite pleasant the other night,” Seliora offered innocently.

“He is intelligent and exceedingly perceptive. The former is forgivable; the latter is not.”

“I only thought that being concerned about the state of the fleet and those serving in it was unforgivable,” I countered.

“All Sea-Marshals are concerned about the state of the fleet. Did you not know that, Maitre Rhennthyl?”

“I must have misunderstood. I was under the impression that concern went beyond mouthing words.”

The faintest smile crossed Juniae D’Shendael’s lips as she looked to Seliora. “You are most courageous, Madame, to appear in public with him.”

Seliora laughed softly. “But he is so much better behaved in public, especially when others are watching.”

“You two are so well matched,” said Junaie to Seliora. “His other name could well be Erion…to match yours.”

“My family has noted that,” replied Seliora, “as has Rhenn’s sister-in-marriage.”

I didn’t wince at the Pharsi references that linked the daughter of the greater moon to the red moon, the one that symbolized conquest and unrest-or truth and power-although my mother wouldn’t have been able to avoid such a reaction, and Remaya had made that very same observation the first time she’d seen Seliora and me together.

“Truth and power are a dangerous combination,” observed Juniae.

“For whom?” asked Seliora lightly.

Madame D’Shendael laughed gently. “I will not take more of your time, as I see my husband fretting, but it was very good to spend a few moments with you.”