L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

“The barges didn’t come from this section of the river. We should know where they did come from in the next few days.” I hope .

“You aren’t telling me everything.”

“No, Maitre. I’m only telling you what I know and what I can reasonably suspect.”

“You still don’t do finesse as well as you should, Rhenn.”

“I probably never will, Maitre.”

She shook her head. “Let me know whenever you find out anything.”

I stood and made my way back to my study.

I was still trying to sort out matters when, at just after half past the second glass of the afternoon, Kahlasa and Schorzat appeared at my study door.

“Come in. You both look grim.”

They did, and Kahlasa closed the door. They sat down.

“We have a very good regional in Solis,” Schorzat said.

I concentrated to recall who the regional was, then nodded. “Eslyana. She’s even a Maitre D’Aspect. I take it that she sent some information on barges.”

Schorzat looked to Kahlasa.

She put several sheets on my desk. “Here’s her report. There are only three barges and a tug that can’t be accounted for. That’s of the ones large enough to carry the weight of a bombard. It’s not just the weight, but the deck and hold strength for that much weight concentrated in a single spot. They were leased from one Leavytt, a transport factor in Solis. They never returned. Leavytt put in a claim with L’Excelsis Indemnity. They’re still investigating, but…”

“They have a problem since someone blew up their main building here?” I suggested.

“No…” Kahlasa said slowly. “They’ll have to pay, but Eslyana managed to find out a bit more. The lease contract was forged. That is, it was a standard Naval Command contract. It was on the right paper and with the correct watermarks, and with the correct names and seals, and the signatures were also apparently by the right people-except they don’t match the real signatures. They’re close, unless you examine them carefully.”

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

“It’s a real contract, and all the formalities and procedures were perfect. Leavytt’s been through this for years. He did say that he didn’t recognize any of the crew who took the tug and barges, except for the tug captain. He’d seen him before, but he doesn’t recall the man’s name. Leavytt didn’t know the subcommander who handled it for the Naval Command, but the subcommander knew everyone. He even mentioned the last lease and the Commander who had handled it. He said that the Commander was his superior. The contract deposit cleared before they took possession of the tug and barges. It was a draft on the Banque D’Rivages for five thousand golds. Leavytt said lease drafts were usually drawn on the Banque D’Excelsis, but he’d had one or two over the years on the Banque D’Rivages.”

“Whoever leased the tug and barges had considerable background in setting up this sort of thing,” I said blandly.

“There’s no way to prove it, but someone well-placed in the Naval Command or the Naval Bureau had to be involved,” suggested Kahlasa. “It’s more likely to be the Naval Bureau, because they handle supplies and leases and transport.”

Or someone who knows the Naval Bureau well.

“They also had access to five thousand golds, and we’d know if five thousand golds had been recently transferred from Ferrum or elsewhere or converted to a draft by someone…unusual…” observed Schorzat.

“You mean by someone who isn’t a High Holder or a wealthy factorius?” I asked.

“All large fund deposits from foreign sources have to be reported in time of war.”

“They could have done it years before.”

“That’s possible.”

After they finished, we all trooped back up to see Maitre Dyana, where I let Kahlasa and Schorzat report what they’d told me. Then she excused them and, after her study door was closed, looked to me. “The Naval Command will deny any involvement.”

“I know. I don’t plan to talk to them yet, not before I look into other aspects of it first.”

“How long will that take?”

“As long as it takes.” I offered a smile. “You know I’ve never been one to dawdle, even when I should.”

Once I was back in my study, I just sat at my desk, thinking. If the Naval Command happened to be involved, would Valeun have taken such pains to avoid Glendyl so obviously at a time when it was clear that Solidar needed more ships? Or was the avoidance merely to buy time before something else happened? Or had the Ferrans infiltrated the Naval Command at a lower level years before and transferred those funds equally early?

There was another possibility, and I wrote a quick note to Iryela asking to call on her. She was one source who might be able to answer some questions I didn’t want others knowing I was asking, and she wouldn’t say a word. I had Beleart send it by special messenger.

After that, I decided there was little enough more I could do, and I left the study.

As I walked back across the quadrangle and turned toward the house, and Seliora, I couldn’t help but think about Seliora’s words. The ones closest to you are the ones who hurt you the most . But…closest in what ways? That was another question.

First thing on Mardi morning, I was at the infirmary, looking for Draffyd.

As soon as I walked toward him, before I could speak, the medical imager said, “Clovyl said you’re exercising. That’s fine, but don’t push.”

“That’s not why-”

“I know. Yes, it’s likely he’ll recover. No, you can’t talk to him. Maybe late tomorrow. Maybe.” He paused, then asked, “Is it that urgent?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.

“If you, of all imagers, aren’t certain, it can wait. Besides, he’s not awake, and waking him to talk to you would put too much of a strain on him. It would on anyone.”

“You’re not going to let him leave?”

“Maitre Rhennthyl,” Draffyd drew out my name and title, “the most honorable Councilor Glendyl isn’t in any shape to go anywhere and won’t be for weeks. If you hadn’t been beside him and acted in instants, he would have died on the Chateau steps. I will make certain he knows that, when he’s awake enough to understand…which he is not at present.”

After that, I went back to my study, looking to see if I’d received any more reports. There were only two. One was from the Collegium at Mont D’Glace, and that merely confirmed that they knew nothing more about Johanyr’s disappearance. The other was from the Civic Patrol Commander in Alkyra, reporting that a grain freighter scheduled to leave for the Abierto Isles had burned at the pier. Unfortunately, there were no details about what had caused the fire or who owned the vessel.

That led me into thinking about the lack of information, especially the lack of consistent information. The Council and the Collegium received reports from all over Solidar, but they varied greatly in the quality and even the types of information. Both the Council and I, and presumably Maitre Dichartyn before me, had to guess and fill in with estimates. Both the Council and the Collegium needed better information. I doubted that the Ferrans had that problem.

And, as for the Ferrans, why, for the sake of the Nameless, would Glendyl have gotten involved with them? He was influential and wealthy, possibly wealthier than even some High Holders. What could they possibly have offered him? That didn’t make any sense, either.

A knock on my study door interrupted my pondering.

“A message for you, Maitre,” announced a young voice, most likely the duty prime.

“Come in.”

“Yes, Maitre.” The youngster, perhaps all of ten and looking most serious in his grays, scurried in, bowed his head, slipped a striped envelope onto my desk, bowed again, and hurried out. I only knew that his name was Petrion from the duty roster.