L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

“Broussard’s a rather undistinguished factor except for two things,” mused Dichartyn. “He’s essentially a freeholder, as well as a factor, with close to enough lands to qualify as a High Holder, but he’s rejected any approaches along those lines. He’s also come afoul of a High Holder named Haebyn. Haebyn has been a fierce opponent of ancillary water rights, especially to freeholders who use them to produce grain in dry years.”

“I think I need more of an explanation.”

“Think of ancillary water rights as the right to divert excess water in high run-off times. Broussard has obtained considerable such rights on the Piedra River. This infuriated Haebyn, and he has tried to come up with every possible way to give grain shipments from High Holders priority on the ironway. He pressured Glendyl to delay delivery of locomotives to ironway companies that didn’t provide that priority. There were even rumors that golds changed hands, and there were apparently some delays. Needless to say, Broussard was less than pleased about such efforts, and he persuaded Caartyl to push through an amendment to the Cartage Code that made granting priority on any commercial transport a matter only of shipping charges, with criminal penalties for violations, both for the carrier and anyone who attempted to obtain such a priority.”

“You could only get priority if you wanted to pay for it?” That made sense to me; but then, my father was a factor.

Dichartyn nodded.

“What sort of pressure was Haebyn exerting?” I knew all too well what sorts of tactics High Holders could employ.

“Works engineers who suffered accidents. Delays in obtaining iron plate or tubing. Nothing fatal and nothing easily traceable. All well away from any of our collegia or even from any regionals. It all stopped once the code was amended.”

“That suggests Broussard could have a few enemies, possibly beyond Haebyn. And Broussard had to go to Caartyl? I don’t see why Glendyl wouldn’t want to push such a proposal, and even if he didn’t, what about the other factors on the Council, such as Reyner or Diogayn?”

“Glendyl doesn’t want to call attention to himself or his manufacturing. He has the rights to the steam turbines all the newer Navy ships use. His engineers developed them, but he’s managed to keep the processes to himself…as well as all the contracts.”

“So he’s the sole supplier to the Navy? And a councilor?”

“Solidar is far from perfect, Rhenn.”

“But what about the other factors on the Council? Surely, they…”

“Do you know of many who go against the High Holders who don’t risk their lives, Rhenn?”

“Point taken.” I laughed, softly. Once I would have been mortified at the gentle correction.

“The Guild Councilors have more power, in a sense, because targeting a single member won’t change matters that much; while individual factors, especially those with competitors, could lose much. Glendyl doesn’t want to risk losing contracts worth hundreds of thousands of golds, but pressure on a Guild Councilor is just likely to make the others madder.”

I could see that. “How many High Holders would have access to explosives experts?”

“I assume you’re going to find out.”

“I’ll look into it, but since it didn’t happen in my district…. You know how the Commander feels about that.” And Cydarth, but I didn’t say that. The subcommander and I tolerated each other.

“That’s something Schorzat might know, also. I’ll ask him.” He paused and offered a smile. “You’ll come to dinner on Vendrei night? Sixth glass? Aelys hoped you and Seliora would.”

“We’ll be there.” I wanted to ask who else might be coming, but didn’t. Dichartyn was still my superior in the Collegium, since technically I was merely on loan to the Civic Patrol.

Once I finished with Master Dichartyn-I didn’t tell him about the elveweed, since there was no point to that, not yet-I hurried back to the house, just in time to sit down at the table in the breakfast room where we usually ate at night with Diestrya when we didn’t have company. These days, that was usually the case.

Seliora said the blessing. “For the grace that we all owe each other, for the bounty of the earth of which we are about to partake, for good faith among all, and mercies great and small. For all these we offer thanks and gratitude, both now and ever more, in the spirit of that which cannot be named or imaged…”

“In peace and harmony,” Diestrya and I replied.

Klysia set a covered casserole dish before me, and I looked to Seliora.

“Ragout paprikash. I had Klysia fix it with Grandmama Diestra’s recipe. I had to write it out for her the other day.”

“How is she doing? Mama Diestra, I mean? She looked tired when we were there for the dinner for Odelia and Kolasyn’s son.” I served Seliora some of the ragout, and then put a much smaller helping on Diestrya’s plate.

“About the same. She’s frail, but there’s never been anything wrong with her mind.”

I knew that all too well.

“She’s already teaching Diestrya plaques. Our daughter can already shuffle…a small deck, anyway.”

“I like placques,” Diestrya affirmed.

“Definitely that Pharsi heritage,” I said with a smile, serving myself, and pouring wine for the two of us from the carafe. It was a red Ryelan, courtesy of Iryela and Kandryl.

“The Pharsi heritage on my side,” she countered. “I still say your family hid some Pharsi ancestors.”

She was probably right about that, appalling as my mother might once have found it. So I just smiled. “Master Dichartyn and Aelys want us to come for dinner on Vendrei.”

“We must be getting popular again. Mama and Papa wanted to know if we’d come to dinner on Samedi.”

“That’s because people have dinner guests more often when it gets cool. I’d like that, but I’ll have to come from the station.”

“You worked last Samedi.”

“I know, but I’m switching with Alsoran, because his niece is getting married on Samedi.”

“So long as it’s just a switch.”

That was a warning. “It is. Alsoran’s very fair about that.”

“Unlike Warydt,” Seliora said, her mouth twisting as she said my former lieutenant’s name.

“Something rather odd happened over the weekend…” I explained about the Place D’Opera explosion. “…and you might ask her if she knows anything about High Holder Haebyn or Factor Broussard.”

Seliora shook her head, smiling. “She doesn’t know every factor in Solidar. There are thousands of them. There are fewer High Holders, but there are still over a thousand of them, and that doesn’t count family.”

“A thousand and thirty-seven High Holders at the latest count.”

“I’ll ask her about both. Even the question from you will make her feel good.”

“She might surprise us. Again.”

We both laughed.

Mardi was a typical day, beginning with the usual hurry for Seliora and me-my exercises, dressing and getting Diestrya ready for the day, breakfast, the duty coach to our respective places of work, reviewing patroller performances, a glass or so walking with different patrollers. I didn’t see either Jadhyl or Horazt, and that meant they hadn’t found out anything about the explosion…and that they didn’t have other problems of the sort that might concern me or the Patrol. Jacquet’s report on the specifics of the Place D’Opera bomb arrived by messenger at the station late on Mardi afternoon. It didn’t tell me much more than I already knew, except for the precision of the blast pattern.

Both Seliora and I were exhausted by the time we retired to our separate beds. Tired as I was, the time before I dropped off to sleep was the loneliest part of the day.