L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

She was right about that.

“There’s another problem…” I explained about the elveweed. “Is there any way some of your family contacts can find out if Third District is the only taudis getting the fresher weed?”

“Grandmama isn’t in touch as much, now, but…that might be something Mama could ask about. It also wouldn’t hurt to let people know she’s aware of that. I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

“How about your day?” I asked.

“Alhyral D’Haestyr sent his bride-to-be to commission a dining set for the town house he purchased. She’s actually rather nice.”

I recalled Alhyral all too well. He’d propositioned Seliora before we’d been married. “I just can’t imagine why he didn’t come.”

“You’re as bad as any Pharsi,” she replied with a laugh.

“You’ve always claimed I had a Pharsi background,” I countered. “Is it a good commission?”

“Very good, and Shomyr can do all the turning with his new lathes.”

“Who is Alhyral’s finance?”

“Her name is Dhelora D’Zaerlyn-Alte. She’s from around Rivages.” Seliora paused. “She did know who you were. She made a quiet point of that.”

“What exactly did she say?”

“Not much. She just said that her aunt had said you were the first master imager ever to serve in the Civic Patrol. She seemed very bright, far better than Alhyral deserves.”

“She doubtless doesn’t have much choice.”

“No. Few of the High Holders’ daughters do.”

I couldn’t help but wonder who her aunt happened to be, but it could have been some relation of Iryela or even of Alynkya D’Ramsael…or of Madame D’Shendael or someone I didn’t even know.

Again, after we reached Imagisle, as Seliora walked Diestrya home, I hurried back south along the west side of the quadrangle. Shault was waiting by the letterboxes opposite the dining hall.

“Master Rhennthyl.”

“We’ll use the conference room here. We need to talk.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shault was as dark-haired as his “uncle” Horazt, but his eyes were hazel, and he was taller. At age fifteen, after six years of training at the Collegium, he was also healthier and in better physical condition.

I sat at the end of the table, and he took the seat to my right.

“I’ve been talking to Maitre Jhulian. He’s not exactly pleased with your progress with the Code.”

“It’s so dull, sir. That makes it hard to concentrate.”

With that, I could sympathize. I’d felt the same way, but it didn’t matter. “Let me see if I can make it clearer and provide some motivation. Just what is justice?”

“The rendering of what is right, owed, or due. That’s what the book says.”

“The root of the word lies in a Bovarian word meaning ‘law,’” I pointed out. “What does that tell you?”

Shault looked puzzled. “That law should be just? That’s obvious.”

“Who defines what is just? Is it the Nameless?”

“Advocates…the Council.”

“Who writes the laws? Who carries them out?” I pressed.

“People, sir. Patrollers, imagers.”

“Laws are made by people, and they’re carried out by people. So is it wrong for a master imager or a Civic Patrol Captain to quietly create justice, especially when the laws don’t seem fair?”

Shault just looked at me blankly.

“What’s the difference between my enforcing justice and when an ancient rex did it?”

“You’re both imposing your will,” Shault pointed out.

“That’s true, but there’s a fundamental difference. What is it?”

“Who could remove the rex?”

“And?”

Shault’s face brightened. “You have to answer to Master Dichartyn and the Maitre of the Collegium.”

“Or, as a Patrol Captain, to Commander Artois and to the laws enacted by the Council. Even, in the end, the Collegium has to answer to the Council. To whom does the Council answer?”

“Well…the guild representatives answer to their guilds. The factors represent the other factors, and the High Holders on the Council answer to the other High Holders.”

“In total…what does that mean? To whom, in general, does the Council answer?”

“The people, I guess,” Shault said slowly. “But…no one person can tell the Council what to do.”

“Let’s get back to my question. Is it wrong for a master imager to create justice, as opposed to following or enforcing the law?”

“Aren’t they the same?”

“Are they?”

Shault got that confused look on his face again. “No…but…”

“Is what I think just the same as what you think is just? Or what Horazt thinks is just? Or what a factor in Tilbora thinks is just?”

“They should be.”

“Are they?”

“No, sir.”

“So why shouldn’t I as a master imager and a Patrol Captain do what I think is just if it conflicts with the law?”

“Oh…”

I forced myself to wait.

“Are you saying that laws are written to make sure everyone knows what is just?”

“Not quite.”

Shault looked blank…again.

I repressed a sigh. “Write me an essay explaining in logical terms what any Patrol Captain should do when he finds that what he believes to be just is in conflict with the law. Then explain why he should do that. Leave it in my letterbox here by Vendrei evening.”

“Sir…”

“It’s more than enough time.”

“Sir…that wasn’t what I was going to say. You got me thinking. You’re changing the taudis in Third District, aren’t you? You’re accountable to the Collegium and the Council, and you’re trying to make the taudischefs accountable to you so that they’ll follow the law more.”

“You’re right, but the problem is that I’m making them accountable through fear of my abilities, not out of respect for the law itself and the reasons behind it. As a Patrol Captain, I don’t have time to make each one of them think.” And some of them never would, and would only respect force. I knew that, but it still bothered me. “I can only hope that they’ll see that things are better when more people follow the law.” I stood. “I need to go home, and I’m sure you have lessons to prepare.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hoped he would come to understand, sooner or later, the balance between justice and codified law, and the narrow line that imagers always walked.

I hurried back to the house, hoping that Seliora hadn’t had too much trouble with a hungry daughter.

On Jeudi morning, after the four mille run, I loitered just enough to catch Baratyn, for whom I’d worked briefly as a member of the Collegium’s covert imagers at the Council Chateau some six years earlier.

“How is the Council handling the heating up of the Jariolan-Ferran hostilities?”

“How do they always handle things until they have to act? They’re talking and talking. You shouldn’t have forgotten that.” He laughed, although he was still a bit out of breath.

“Does anyone there even remember me?”

He frowned, paused, then replied, “As a matter of fact…the other day, Councilor Caartyl asked how you were doing as a Patrol Captain. He said you’d proved that artisan enterprise was possible, even in the taudis, and that not everything new had to be larger and operated with less skill and craft. I couldn’t say anything to that.” Baratyn shrugged. “What did he mean by that?”

“Oh…I managed to get people interested in building a small paper mill and a woodworks. They barely break even, but it’s helped some taudis-youths get apprentice positions.”

“You come from a factoring family, don’t you?”

I laughed. “I’d never be any good at it. I found other people who are. Has anyone else said anything?”