L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

We headed downstairs after putting her to bed for our own dinner, but Seliora stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to me. “I received a notice of a bequest today. It came to NordEste Design.”

With all that had happened, and my decision not to tell her, I’d almost forgotten that she would get the notice. “A bequest? From whom?”

“From the estate of the late Suyrien D’Alte. Rhenn…it’s for ten thousand golds. I didn’t tell anyone the amount. I didn’t want to until I talked to you.”

I had to swallow at the sum of the bequest. Iryela had said that it would be small, but I hadn’t really accepted what was considered small to a High Holder. I’d have to work for more than twenty years to earn ten thousand golds-and I was one of the highest paid imagers in the Collegium-and to save that amount would have been impossible. Even my father had put by only a fraction of that amount, at least from what I knew.

“You’re as surprised as I am,” she said. “I wondered if you knew.”

“Iryela had mentioned that she thought that you might get a very small bequest. That’s why I didn’t mention it. She emphasized that it was very small, and I’d thought it might be something like fifty or a hundred golds. I didn’t say anything because she said she wasn’t sure.”

Seliora laughed softly. “Small means something very different to her.”

“Every time I deal with High Holders, it seems as though I’m reminded of that.”

“What will we do with it?”

“Put it in the Banque D’Excelsis in your name. It has to stay in your name. Talk to your mother and grandmother. Then we’ll discuss it. Some of it should go for private tutors for Diestrya if she turns out not to be an imager, although that’s not likely.”

Seliora’s mouth dropped open. “Do you think she will be? You’ve never said that before.”

“If you weren’t from a Pharsi background, I’d say it was unlikely, but with an imager father and a Pharsi mother, Kahlasa told me years ago that there are two chances in three for a daughter to be an imager. If both the mother and father are imagers, it’s two in three for a boy, and almost always for a girl. I could be wrong, but I have the feeling that Diestrya will show up with the ability.”

“Kahlasa has always known that Klaustya will be an imager?”

I nodded. “It may not show up for a time, but she will be.”

“She knew that before she had her daughter?”

“She said she felt that it was a gift she had to pass on, like the Pharsi heritage.” Kahlasa hadn’t compared it to the Pharsi heritage, but her words had held the same import.

“Do you know why Suyrien made the bequest?”

“I can only guess. He never talked to me. Iryela said that he once mentioned that he owed Kandryl’s happiness to us.”

“So…it’s a thank-you of sorts.”

“That’s my guess, but it’s only a guess.”

Seliora tilted her head slightly. “I’m not sure how I feel about that…but that will relieve Mama. She’s always worried about the future.”

“NordEste Design is doing better than ever, you said.”

“Pharsis never stop worrying. We may try to live for the day, but we plan endlessly for the morrow.” She smiled warmly at me. “You know that.”

I did indeed.

Vendrei morning found me in Maitre Dyana’s study by half-past eighth glass. She wore a gray and silver scarf trimmed in black, and again there were dark circles under her eyes.

“What do you intend to get out of this meeting with Valeun and Geuffryt? Unless there’s something I missed, you still don’t have much hard evidence to prove what we all know Geuffryt’s been doing.”

“I do have an interesting note that I have every reason to believe is in his handwriting, if somewhat disguised. It’s a warning to Vyktor that I’ll be looking into his operations, and dear late Vyktor was kind enough to add the date of receipt, as pointed out by Commander Artois.”

“Artois’s seen the note, then?”

“He’s the one who found it, but he doesn’t know the writer, and I didn’t tell him.”

“Geuffryt will deny it’s his writing.”

“I’m certain he will, but I intend to present all the evidence to the two of them and ask them exactly what they intend to do. Their reaction will be most illuminating.”

Dyana shook her head. “Are you fully recovered?”

“I have full shields, but I trust it won’t come to that.” And it wouldn’t, if things worked out the way I’d arranged them. That was something that Maitre Poincaryt had stressed-never have a meeting unless you had set it up so that events transpired the way you intended.

“You sound like Dichartyn again.”

I just shrugged.

“I’ll be here until late. Let me know when you get back.”

That-and the fact that she didn’t ask for details-told me that she was worried…and that she didn’t have any better ideas. “I will.”

I kept myself busy for the rest of the morning and the midday meal, and then returned to my study where I organized everything-and re-organized it-for the meeting at the Naval Command.

At two quints before second glass, I slipped the loaded sidearm in its holster into the larger inside pocket of my waistcoat, then donned my recently cleaned winter cloak. After that, I picked up the leather folder that contained what evidence I had, all of it indirect, but certainly more than suggestive. There was also a blank notecard on top, as close a match as I’d been able to find to the one that held the short message signed with the “L.”

With all my preparations made, I left my study and walked through the chill and windy afternoon across the quadrangle to the duty coach station on the west side of Imagisle. Once I reached the Naval Command building, I had to wait for an escort, and then cool my boots some more in the anteroom outside Valeun’s study. I didn’t see Geuffryt, and that led me to believe that he was already inside talking with the Sea-Marshal.

A small bell chimed, and the clerk-rating at the desk in the anteroom rose. “Maitre?” He stepped forward and opened the study door.

I rose, leaving my winter cloak on the chair beside the one where I’d been waiting, and walked through the door into the Sea-Marshal’s capacious study. Through the windows, I could see the same gray clouds that had hung over L’Excelsis for the past two days.

Valeun was seated behind his desk, with Geuffryt seated on the left. Neither rose as I entered the chamber.

I waited until the door closed before speaking. “Good afternoon, Sea-Marshal,” I said, adding, “Geuffryt,” as if as an afterthought. I took the chair to the right of Geuffryt, setting the leather folder on the desk before me and moving my chair forward so that I could reach it, and the materials in it, easily.

“You requested this meeting, and the Collegium insisted that it was urgent. Quite urgent.” Valeun’s voice was smooth, calm, and modulated. His eyes were cold.

So were Geuffryt’s.

That didn’t bother me.

“It’s very urgent.” I smiled. “I don’t tell anyone something is urgent unless it is.” I reached forward and eased back the leather flap that protected the contents of the folder. Then I paused. “Oh…I do have a request, a very small request. Before we begin, would you write your name and the word ‘visit’ on this piece of paper, Geuffryt?” I leaned forward and eased the pen stand away from the end of Valeun’s blotter, then slipped the blank notecard onto the desk.

“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Valeun.

“Oh, it’s just a way of making certain of the relevance of what’s here in the folder.” I smiled again, waiting.