L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

“That may be, but Glendyl has nothing to gain by having imagers killed.”

She was probably right, but still…

“You have that look, Maitre Rhennthyl. Did you suddenly recall something of import?”

“I’m not certain of its import. I’ll need to talk to some people first.”

“Then I suggest you do.”

After Maitre Dyana left, I pulled my winter cloak back on and left again, trudging through the gray morning to the duty coach stand.

Three quints after I stepped into the coach, Davoryn, who only drove me occasionally, was guiding it up the drive to Frydryk/Suyrien’s L’Excelsis chateau. It was a risk, calling on Frydryk without an appointment and unannounced, but where else was he likely to be on a cold winter day? If he didn’t happen to be in, I could find out where he was. But I had a strong feeling I needed to talk to him as quickly as possible.

The retainer who appeared at the door took in my grays and the visored cap with the silver imager insignia, then finally said, “Sir…I don’t believe that…High Holder Suyrien was expecting you.”

“I’m most certain that he wasn’t,” I said agreeably. “Is he in?”

“Ah…”

“Please tell him that Maitre D’Esprit Rhennthyl needs some time with him, and that I wouldn’t spend a glass getting here without an appointment if it were not important.”

“Yes, sir.” He paused, then added, “If you would come in and wait in the foyer…”

Once I was inside, he closed the door, then turned and headed toward the door on the left side of the hexagonal foyer, the one to the study where I had met with Frydryk earlier. After a quick knock, the retainer opened the door, barely enough to step inside, shutting it behind himself.

In moments, the door opened, and the functionary said, “Sir, this way…”

“Thank you.”

I didn’t even have to close the door. It clicked shut behind me.

Frydryk had clearly just stood from behind the writing desk filled with stacks of papers. “Maitre Rhennthyl…” He looked bewildered to see me on his doorstep, literally and figuratively. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

I smiled, as pleasantly as I could. “I need the answer to two questions. Two very simple questions.”

“Yes?”

“The first is whether you have had a guard force at the shipworks and whether you know if Glendyl does at Ferravyl.”

“That’s not all that simple,” Frydryk replied. “We’ve always had guards, and Father made sure that they were paid well. Also, when we do build Navy vessels, there are Navy guards as well around those drydocks as well. Glendyl…he never said much about it. Father did mention that he didn’t like to pay for anything that didn’t produce profit, including guards.”

“Thank you. The second question is simpler. How much does Glendyl owe you?”

“That’s…” Frydryk’s mouth opened, then shut. “Was he behind it? The shooting?”

“How much?”

“Close to a quarter-million golds.”

“And your father was pressuring him to supply the engines and turbines for the first fast battlecruiser?”

“He-Father-just said that Glendyl was being unreasonable, and that he was certain, once they talked matters over, Glendyl would see reason.”

“Did they talk matters over? Do you know when?”

“They did, several nights before Father was shot. When Glendyl left, Father came and found me in the billiards room. He was very pleased, and he sent a message to the head of the shipworks to revise the proposal to present to the Council when it reconvened in Ianus…” Frydryk paused. “I can’t believe…Glendyl? Why would he do that?”

“I don’t think he did. I think your father was killed and Glendyl was shot in order to stop the shipbuilding project.” That wasn’t the whole story, but there was no need for Frydryk to know the rest, especially since I wasn’t certain of all the details, not yet.

“But who?”

“The Ferrans. Who else? With your father and Glendyl dead, and a huge debt owed by Glendyl, who would know that Glendyl hadn’t arranged for your father’s death? Especially since Glendyl would have known that he would become the acting head of the Council.”

“That would mean…”

“It could mean any number of things,” I said quickly. “Oh…I was wondering. Are there plans and specifications for Glendyl’s turbines where you can reach them?”

That brought another frown.

“I don’t need to see them. Glendyl almost died. I’d hate to think that all that work was only in one place.”

He did smile. “That was something Father insisted on, given how much Glendyl owed him. We have two sets in two very different and safe places.”

“Good…and thank you. I just needed to know about the debt before I did anything else. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone for right now…except, of course, Maitre Dyana, if anything happens to me.”

That surprised him as much as anything I’d said.

“Of course…but…”

“We still need modern ships, but I don’t want all of this coming out until we can track down all of those who are involved. One way or another, it shouldn’t take that long.” Why I thought that, I didn’t know. The Ferran plot had been put in place years before, I suspected.

“Thank you.” I smiled again. “I do appreciate it…and give my best to Alynkya.”

“Oh…I will.”

With that, I left the study and a still-confused Frydryk.

In the coach on the way back to Imagisle, I tried to fit more of the pieces together. Glendyl hadn’t gone to the Ferrans. That was clear. They’d come to him, most likely not even as Ferrans, but as someone reputable, and they’d known about his debts, perhaps as representatives of a banque concern. They’d also known about his accepting bribes from Haebyn, and they’d threatened to expose everything unless he did a favor for them. That favor had likely been tied in some way to Suyrien’s death, further enmeshing Glendyl. Then they had suggested that the only way to avoid being discovered was to remove senior imagers, such as me or Rholyn.

Still…there had to be more. Or I was missing something? Or both.

Then I recalled the last Pharsi foresight flash I’d gotten. Had that been a vision of Glendyl’s massive manufactory at Ferravyl? Was that where I was supposed to go?

Even as I knew it was necessary, a part of me both resented and accepted the fact that I had no choice but to go on intuition…simply because neither the Collegium nor the Council had developed a unified and standardized system for handling information.

Seliora could come up with cards and card readers that could replicate designs for fabrics, but the head of security for the Collegium Imago had to piece together rumors, fragmentary and incomplete information, and old documents, and then rely on intuition and hope. I’d had more information when I’d been a District Captain of the Civic Patrol. That was an aspect of Ferlyn’s studies of patterns that, apparently, no one had yet understood. Just as the way of fabricating and building things was changing, so also was change needed in the means and systems of administering Solidar…and in gathering intelligence and data.

But…that would have to wait until after I visited Glendyl’s manufactory in Ferravyl and after I resolved the current crises…if I could.

Once I returned to the Collegium, I took full advantage of my position as a senior Maitre and had the duty staff arrange a sleeping compartment for me on the evening express to Ferravyl. While they were taking care of that, I wrote out a set of instructions for Anaxyr, the Collegium’s regional in Ouestan, and then took the sheet to Schorzat, who was in his study, writing out something himself.