L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

After that conversation, I immediately eased Seliora onto the dance floor where I took refuge in her charms.

“When you were talking to Alhyral,” she said, “you had that slight stiffness that suggests you’d like to be done with the matter.”

“I couldn’t escape immediately without being excessively and unpardonably rude, and then they were so obnoxious that I was anyway, in the politest manner of which I was capable. I can see why you detest him. From what I can tell, he’s worse than his father, although Madame D’Shendael told me that Haestyr wasn’t as difficult as he now is before Geuffryt’s father seduced his first wife.”

“If the father was a fraction as bad as the son, I doubt much seduction was required.” Seliora’s voice was syrupy sweet.

“Are you suggesting that I need pay more attention to you?”

She laughed. “No, and today has been wonderful.”

As we continued to dance, this time to a pavane, I just hoped life would remain that way…even as I knew that was most unlikely.

By Lundi morning, I still didn’t have any better ideas than to actually visit Vyktor D’Banque D’Ouestan. I would have liked to have known exactly who had visited Glendyl after Frydryk, but short of driving out to his estate, there wasn’t any way to determine that. Then I laughed. Why not try? All that could happen would be that I’d be turned away at the gates.

Less than a glass later, I was walking toward the front of Glendyl’s mansion. I hadn’t even had to argue with the gate guard.

As I neared the main entrance, a footman stepped forward. “The family won’t be seeing anyone, Maitre. If you’d care to leave a card…”

“I can understand.” I paused. “Were you here, the day it happened?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did the banque representative come right after Suyrien the Younger left?”

“Don’t know as he was a banque man, sir. He wasn’t right after, maybe a quint or two.”

“And when did it happen?”

“I couldn’t say, sir. No one could. The Councilor had the study proofed when he was selected to be on the Council. Said he didn’t like eavesdropping. The staff heard the study door open and the visitor say good-day and the Councilor tell him to be on his way. Then the door slammed, and the fellow left angry-like. Maybe a glass later, when the Councilor didn’t answer the bell, Carlysa opened the study door and found him. Must have happened after the fellow left. They both sounded angry, Carlysa said, when they parted. She could scarce tell their voices apart.”

It wouldn’t do for evidence, but learning more details wouldn’t change anything. So very convenient. Glendyl’s estate was outside L’Excelsis, and that meant he was responsible for his own security, and that the Civic Patrol had no jurisdiction. Who would petition the Justiciary when there was no real way to prove anything? I extended a card. “If you would leave this…”

“I can do that, sir.”

“Thank you.” I walked back to the waiting Collegium coach.

As I was riding back to Imagisle, I realized something else. The security laws were another pressure that the High Holders and the factors used to keep people either on the estates or in the towns and cities. I hadn’t thought of it in that way because I’d grown up in L’Excelsis.

Once I got back to the Collegium, I just had the coach wait outside the administration building while I hurried inside and found Schorzat.

He looked up from his desk. “You’re obviously going somewhere.”

“I’m going to pay a call, I hope, on one Vyktor D’Banque D’Ouestan. His place of business is at 880 Avenue D’Theatre.”

“What do you hope to learn from him?”

“Something that I can use to prove that he’s a Ferran agent who’s been behind more than a few things. On Vendrei, Glendyl told Frydryk-Suyrien the Younger-he’d never let go of anything, even if Suyrien called in the notes he held. I found out that right after that, Vyktor visited Glendyl, and then Glendyl supposedly killed himself. The only problem is that Glendyl used a heavy pistol at his right temple, and his right arm was too weak to hold it or aim it. I doubt anyone besides Draffyd and I-and now you-knew that. We may have to get a medical opinion from Draffyd before this is all over.”

“What about the Civic Patrol?”

“Let’s just say that there are complications with that approach.” Such as the possibility that Cydarth was involved with Vyktor. “I thought you should know before I left.”

“You don’t want any company?”

“That would just alarm dear Vyktor.”

“I’d suggest strong shields and a stronger degree of caution.”

“I’d thought the same, but we need to get this resolved.” With a nod, I turned and headed back to the coach.

The streets weren’t too crowded, and in less than a quint Lebryn came to a halt outside 880. I sat for a moment in the coach and studied the buildings. The gray stone structure to the right was a good six levels high and looked to be a century old, if not older, built more like a fortress than some commercial establishment. On the left, the River Association Building was of a grayish brick, or perhaps pale yellow brick grayed by time and smoke and almost as high as the gray stone structure. There looked to be a lamp or light of some sort coming from one of the second level windows of Vyktor’s establishment. He might even be in.

I stepped out of the coach. “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

“I’ll have to circle here, sir,” said Lebryn. “I can’t stop on the avenue.”

“Can you wait around the corner?”

“I’ll try that, sir. If not, I’ll come by every half quint.”

“Thank you.” I walked up to the door and dropped the tarnished brass knocker, twice, then a third time.

From the second level window came a voice. “The door’s unlatched. Just go into the waiting room, and I’ll join you in a moment.”

The door was indeed unlatched, and I opened it. Beyond was a narrow foyer. At the end of the foyer was a door, and an archway to the right opened into a sitting room. The archway to the left was closed by the kind of doors that slid out of recesses. I touched it, but the two doors were locked together. I could have imaged out the lockplate, but I didn’t see that such would be helpful. The door at the end of the foyer, presumably leading to stairs, was also closed, and most probably locked, which made sense if the front door were habitually left unlocked.

I stepped into the sitting room, dimly lit by two wall sconces. Where the front window had once been was filled with a heavy built-in bookcase, and the shelves were filled with books. Just out from the rear wall was a green leather couch, with a low table before it, on which were newsheets, neatly stacked. Out from the right wall were two green leather armchairs, set at slight angles to the table. The floor was of dull black tile, largely covered by a cream and green Khelgroran carpet. There were no windows, and the walls were paneled in oak. The only entry or exit was through the archway.

As I turned back toward the foyer, I saw two doors slide into place, sealing me into the room. While I had expected a less than completely friendly reaction, an immediate imprisonment was something I hadn’t anticipated.

“The chamber in which you find yourself is entirely lead-lined. Even you can’t do much in a lead-lined room, not without killing yourself, Master Imager Rhennthyl.” The words echoed softly around me.

I turned, trying to locate the source of the slightly hollow-sounding words that had to come through a speaking tube. As I did, I thought of Maitre Dyana, and the words she’d always spoken when I’d first come to the Collegium- Finesse, dear boy…Finesse . “I don’t see what you get from this, Vyktor. The Collegium will-”