L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

Inside the outer envelope was another envelope with a note card inside. Iryela had written simply that she would be available to see me any day of the present week at any time before the first glass of the afternoon, except on Jeudi, when she would be unavailable after midday.

Since I wasn’t getting anywhere by sitting in the study and waiting for inspiration to strike me and since I had no idea where else I might go to find out more information, I immediately pulled on my winter cloak and headed for the duty coach station, stopping only briefly to let the duty secondus know where I was headed.

I crossed the quadrangle against a bitter biting wind from the northwest. Although the sky was clear, I had the feeling we might have snow by evening-or sometime during the night. The inside of the coach was only chill, but I felt sorry for Lebryn, although he was well bundled up. The roads were clear, but it took almost a glass to reach the Ryel estate north of L’Excelsis.

The footman who greeted me at Iryela’s estate bowed and said, “Maitre Rhennthyl…if you’ll be long, there’s a place in the carriage house for your coach and driver.”

“Thank you. I’ll be long enough, and they could stand to get out of the wind.” I turned to Lebryn. “They’ll direct you to the carriage house.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

I had to admit that I was surprised to find Iryela, attired in deep blue trousers and tunic, standing in the foyer to greet me. “It’s good to see you, Rhenn. Kandryl was pleased that you came to his father’s memorial service.”

“Suyrien was an honorable man, and he was Kandryl’s father.” I paused. “And it has been a trying time for you as well.”

“It has…and for you.” After a moment, she added, “The private drawing room is most comfortable in the morning, with the sun and the stove.”

“What ever you think best. I do appreciate your seeing me on such short notice.”

“How could I not?” Her tone was light, with seriousness beneath, as she turned to head toward the left-hand corridor. “Besides, it’s very quiet here in the mornings, even with the children, since they’re at their lessons, and Kandryl is spending the day at the main estate-Frydryk’s, that is. They’re going over the finer points of their father’s bequests and settlement.”

I moved up beside her. “That’s fairly set, isn’t it.”

“Oh, the bulk of everything will go to Frydryk, but there are apparently a number of smaller bequests.” She smiled. “There’s even a small one for Seliora, although it’s really for both of you.”

That there was such a bequest surprised me as well, but not the fact that it was to Seliora, because, as an imager, I could inherit nothing from anyone, and Suyrien had to have known that. “She will be pleased, if sad that she will receive it so much earlier than she should have.”

“You and Seliora impressed Suyrien. He was always pleased that Kandryl and I were married.”

“And you?” I asked gently.

She smiled. “It couldn’t have worked out better.”

I’d always thought that, but I still liked her to say it. “For both of us.”

“Indeed, and you make a better friend.”

As she entered the drawing room, she gestured to the small table. “Tea will be here shortly I thought you wouldn’t mind that on such a chill morning.”

I waited to say anything more until we were seated at the table. “I have some unusual questions…”

“That means they’re most serious, Maitre Rhennthyl.”

“Most serious, Madame Iryela D’Ryel.” I matched her tone before letting my voice turn serious. “I’ve been trying to find any traces of Johanyr. You haven’t heard from him?”

“No. I have warned all the guards that he’s not to be admitted, either here or at the main estates in Rivages. How could he have just…disappeared?”

“He wasn’t under guard, and he’d lost his ability to image.”

“He’s almost blind, isn’t he? How could he get around?”

I didn’t want to answer that directly. “With great difficulty, I suspect. But there are blind people in every town and city.”

“He isn’t the kind to beg or be helpless. You know that.”

I did indeed. “That’s very true. Has he ever written you?”

She shook her head.

“Was there anyone he was particularly close to?”

“No. He wasn’t even that close to me or to Dulyk or Alynat, and he wouldn’t speak or write to them after he…after he went to Mont D’Glace. He never wrote me, either.” The door opened, and an older woman appeared with a tray.

The tea was cardomom-flavored and welcome, since I wasn’t totally warmed after the coach ride, even with the gentle heat flowing from the drawing room stove. So were the simple morning cakes.

“I had tea sent down to your driver. I’m sorry you had to come out in such weather.”

“The sooner the better. Matters are not that good…oh…I forgot to tell you. An assassin shot Councilor Glendyl yesterday. He almost died, and he’s at the Imagisle infirmary, but Maitre Draffyd thinks it’s likely he’ll recover.”

“Was it the same person as shot Suyrien? Did he get away?”

“Ah…no. He’s dead. I don’t know as there’s any way to tell.”

“Couldn’t they capture him…” Her words died away as she looked at me. “Did you…?”

“I went to talk to Glendyl. He didn’t want to talk in his study and insisted on taking a walk…” I gave her a quick description of what happened.

She shook her head. “If only you’d been with Suyrien…”

“I don’t know it would have helped. They didn’t shoot Glendyl in the head.” I took another sip of tea and a bite of the morning cake. “Have you heard anything about why anyone would want to shoot Glendyl?”

“Me? A mere wife to High Holder Ryel?”

Behind the self-mocking tone was a certain sadness, I thought. “You’ve always seen and understood more than anyone else knew.”

“Except you.” She took refuge in sipping her tea.

I just waited, taking another swallow of tea.

Finally, she said, “There’s been talk for years about how he wants to do away with all the High Holders and break up the big landholdings by applying his so-called value-added tax to lands that don’t produce revenue. That’s foolish when you consider that you can only harvest timberlands once a generation, if that, but he’d tax the land every year when there’s only revenue from it once every thirty to a hundred years. I haven’t heard anyone who thought seriously about actually shooting him, but there’s not a High Holder out there who liked the idea of his being in charge of the Executive Council, even for a month. Even Caartyl would have been better, but I doubt any High Holder would commission an assassination that would hand the Executive Council over to a guildmaster.”

“I can see that. But even if Glendyl did head the Executive Council for the next month, he couldn’t pass tax or revenue matters. That takes two-thirds of the entire Council.” And right now, the High Holder Councilors and the single Collegium Councilor constitute one vote more than a third of the full Council. I also had the feeling that Suyrien hadn’t seen Ferlyn’s figures on the numbers of High Holders.

“What is it, Rhenn?”

I laughed ruefully. “Trouble, of a different kind. I just realized something. I’m sure Maitre Dichartyn knew it, but some of this is very new to me.”

“Why?”

At that point, I realized that I’d never told her what had happened, not in terms of my change of position. I’d assumed she’d known, but I’d never mentioned it, and my presence at the memorial service would have been considered normal, even if I hadn’t taken over Dichartyn’s duties. “Things have changed at the Collegium. Maitre Poincaryt and Maitre Dichartyn were killed in the bombardment. I’m no longer a Civic Patrol captain. The Collegium has recalled me, and I’m now a Maitre D’Esprit.”