L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

I continued to wait, knowing that Ferlyn would eventually get to the point.

“…do not have the range of information that you or Dichartyn possess, but from what I have seen, the recent requests from the Naval Command suggest a re-focusing on ships more capable of engaging the Ferran dreadnoughts…”

When I finally left Ferlyn, more than a few thoughts, many of them conflicting, were swirling through my mind.

Vendrei morning I actually woke without a headache and with the feeling that, despite all the bruises, some of which were slightly sore to the touch, I might actually be nearing a full recovery. That assumed that I could anticipate troubles before they impacted me personally. Otherwise, I’d end up injured or worse once more. I did do a few more of the morning exercises, and they didn’t hurt all that much.

After seeing Seliora and Diestrya off in the duty coach, I hurried to my study, getting there a quint before seventh glass, because I wanted to look over the recent reports to see if I’d overlooked anything about High Holder Ruelyr. I’d barely finished confirming that there weren’t any recent reports on Ruelyr when Ralyea arrived. He was the only one of the imagers whom I had not yet met since becoming his preceptor.

Ralyea didn’t quite look at me as he came into the study. “Good morning, sir.”

I laughed at the timidity of his presence and speech. Dichartyn’s notes had indicated that both were a problem. He appeared paralyzed at my reaction.

“Ralyea…I don’t bite. I don’t even nip, and I’m not nearly so clever with words or arguments as Master Dichartyn was. What I’m interested in was what he was interested in. I want you to become the best imager that you can. Do you know what one of the first things he said to me was, years ago?”

“No, sir.” His voice still trembled.

“He told me that there were bold imagers and old imagers, but there were no bold old imagers. He was right. But that’s only half the story. The other half is that an excessively cautious imager accomplishes absolutely nothing.”

The young third said nothing.

“Have you ever watched a turtle walk, Ralyea?”

He frowned. “Ah…yes, sir. Not in years, sir, I mean.”

“Tell me. Can a turtle go anywhere by keeping its head inside its shell?”

“No, sir.”

“And what happens if a giant land lizard or a heron comes upon a turtle in the open, even inside its shell?”

“Ah…”

“Yes?”

“It probably flips it over and kills it.”

“On the other hand, what happens if the turtle hurries out of the open into shelter before any predators appear?” I smiled. “What’s the point of talking about turtles? As applied to you?”

He didn’t answer, and I forced myself to wait, just looking at him.

After what seemed a full quint, he finally stammered, “You’re…saying that even with shells…or shields…there’s a time to move…to act.”

“And?”

“Sometimes…doing nothing behind shields…” He looked at me.

“Let me put it simply. Even a turtle has to stick its neck out to get anywhere. An imager who isn’t willing to stick his neck out-cautiously, mind you-won’t get any place and will end up in as much trouble, if not more, than an excessively bold imager. Keep that in mind.”

After that, we went over his assignments and readings, and I asked him to re-read the section of the history dealing with the events leading to the formation of the Collegium and the first Council. When he left, I almost felt as though I’d been doing manual labor, but I had half a glass to check the reports Kahlasa brought me after Ralyea left. There was nothing more on either Ruelyr or Johanyr.

At least the walk across the quadrangle to the duty coach station refreshed me, even with the chill blustery wind.

As I sat in the duty coach, headed northward on West River Road, I realized why Master Dichartyn had often been so hard to find-and I was far from doing all that I probably should have been. Ferlyn’s words, or their implications, still nagged at me. The drive took only slightly less than a glass, since the “L’Excelsis” estate of the Suyriens was three milles from Imagisle, although it was closer to one and a half as a raven flew, because both the road and the River Aluse wound their way north. Still, that was far closer than Suyrien’s main estate, some fifteen milles south of L’Excelsis, if also on the river.

The “smaller” L’Excelsis estate was located on a hill overlooking the river. Surprisingly, to me, the walls were less than three yards in height, and there was but a single guard in the gate house, who opened the gates and waved the gray Collegium coach through for the drive to the mansion-not quite a chateau, since it was a comparatively modest two-story gray stone structure on the hillcrest a mere hundred yards from end to end. The trim was crimson, and the roof tiles well-kept but weathered slate.

A single footman stepped out from the portico to greet me, and Frydryk was waiting in the hexagonal foyer.

I inclined my head to him. “I’m sorry to intrude at this time, but I’m afraid that your father’s death will not be the only one if we can’t track down those responsible quickly.”

“I understand.” He gestured to the door on his left, then turned.

I followed him into a study whose front windows, their pale blue hangings drawn back, overlooked the River Aluse and its gray swirling waters. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases covered the inside wall facing the windows. A small writing desk was set before the windows, with three yards of polished parquet flooring between the desk chair and a circular table with four chairs.

Frydryk took the chair facing the windows. I took the one to his right.

“What would you like to know?” he asked.

“Several things. First, when we had dinner with you and Kandryl, you alluded to why your father had paid a visit to High Holder Ruelyr. I’d appreciate it very much if you’d expand on that. You’d mentioned his problems with low justice, but it wasn’t just that, was it?”

“It is a High Holder matter, Rhenn.”

“Was it about the elveweed traced to his lands? And the fact that his lands were so heavily mortgaged that he had no other way to meet the banque’s terms but to accept a questionable lease and turn the other eye?” The last part was only a guess, but I couldn’t see any other reason for a High Holder to get involved…except by ignorance or stupidity.

“I shouldn’t say. Really.”

I smiled pleasantly. “There’s already an investigation under way, and possibly a justiciary inquiry, you know. It will come out, and you wouldn’t want more holders or factors to die when everyone will know before long anyway. Was he gaoling tenants under low justice to keep them from reporting the elveweed?”

“Father didn’t know. He had heard that Ruelyr, and some others, had been incarcerating malefactors longer than they should have. He wanted to find out more.”

“Did he?”

“He didn’t say much when he came back, except that he couldn’t help Ruelyr any more. He was worried. He said that Ruelyr blamed him for his troubles. Father didn’t say why. He only said that Ruelyr was living in the past, and that he wouldn’t listen. He told me to avoid him because Ruelyr’s actions would bring him down, sooner or later.”

“He didn’t say any more than that?”

Frydryk shook his head.

“Isn’t most of Ruelyr’s worth tied up in land?”

Frydryk nodded. “He has a few manufactories, but they’re really just to supply his lands.”

“What does Alynkya think about him?”

“Ah…I haven’t asked her.”

“You should ask her…about many things. Women often see what we miss. Her eyes may be the only pair besides your own that you can trust.” I paused, then asked, “How are the shipworks doing?”