L. Modesitt - Imager's challenge

“One other thing,” I said. “Do you know if Chelya’s all right? Shault will ask me.”

“She wasn’t near the Temple. I saw her before you came. She’s fine. You can tell him that.”

“He’ll ask about you, too, but I could answer that.”

That brought the trace of a smile. Then he nodded, and he and the others hurried away.

I kept a close eye on the prisoners. The Tiemprans wouldn’t look at me, and Saelyhd kept squirming and glaring. Donmass wasn’t saying anything, and I wondered why, until I saw that someone had stuffed a gag in his mouth.

Captain Harraf arrived in less than half a quint, accompanied by Slausyl, Melyor, Lyonyt, Fuast, and the two tall patrollers I didn’t know. He looked over the three in the rather dusty Tiempran robes, and then Saelyhd and Donmass.

He didn’t even ask any questions. He just nodded. “Take them in.” Then he inclined his head to me. “We need to talk.” He shook his head. “We lost one-Shagnyr-and a couple more got banged up. It could have been worse.”

I understood that was as much of an acknowledgment or thanks as I was about to get. That was fine.

We turned back down South Middle, ahead of the patrollers. From some of the sounds behind us, I could tell that they hadn’t been too gentle in getting the five to their feet, but I couldn’t say that I blamed them.

“Did you make any promises to get them?” Harraf asked.

“Just one . . . the same one I made to the major. I said I’d be with the scriptie team and try to keep everyone calm.” Paying Horazt wasn’t a promise.

“Nothing . . . else . . . ?”

“No, sir. I did suggest that no one tempt the scripties this weekend.”

“Do I want to know how you did it?”

“Imaging and appealing to their self-preservation, sir. I also used some imaging to persuade them to leave their hiding place.”

He nodded, but he didn’t say more, and he didn’t look at me all the way back to the station.

By the time I wrote up the reports and the preliminary charging slips and made sure that the five were on their way to the main gaol under heavy guard, it was almost second glass of the afternoon. I knocked on the captain’s door. “I’ll need to report on this to the Collegium, immediately, sir.”

“You’ve finished all the reports, Master Rhennthyl?”

“Yes, sir, and the transfer wagon left about a quint ago.”

“Then I’d say you’d best report. You’ll be here early on Lundi?”

The last wasn’t really a question. “Yes, sir. Very early.”

“Good. We don’t need to disappoint the major. Try to have a good weekend.”

Although his voice was cheerful, the cheer was forced. I had the feeling that I’d upset the captain in some other fashion, and I’d have to be careful in the days ahead. “Thank you, sir.” I nodded and smiled, then turned and headed out to find a hack.

Again, because South Middle was closed to coaches and wagons, I had to walk all the way to the Midroad. My feet hurt, and my stomach was growling, and I was light-headed. Once I did get a hack, it was a relief to sit down, even on the hard seat.

Much as I didn’t look forward to it, once I left the hack and walked tiredly, very tiredly, across the Bridge of Hopes, I headed straight for Master Dichartyn’s study. He wasn’t there. So I went to the duty prime, who happened to be Jakhob.

“Master Dichartyn’s not in his study.”

“No, sir.”

“Is he here at the Collegium?”

The prime squirmed.

“Don’t tell me. He’s with Master Poincaryt.”

“Ah . . .”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.” I turned and walked to the back of the receiving hall and up the stone steps. My boots echoed in the silence.

Master Poincaryt’s study was on the second level of the administration building in the southwest corner overlooking the quadrangle. I’d never been in his study, but I did know where it was. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Gherard sitting at the small desk outside the door . . . but I was.

“I assume that Master Dichartyn and Maitre Poincaryt are inside and not to be disturbed?”

“They didn’t say that, sir. Not exactly.”

“Good. Please tell them that the Tiempran priests exploded their Temple in the taudis late this morning, and I need to tell them what happened.”

Gherard had been around. He didn’t question me. He immediately rose and walked to the closed door, where he rapped. “Master Rhennthyl is here with some very urgent news, maitres.”

I didn’t hear the response, but Gherard opened the door and stepped back, nodding for me to enter.

“Thank you,” I murmured as I passed.

He offered a faint smile in return.

I closed the door behind me. Windows dominated the south and west walls of the study. Maitre Poincaryt’s desk was set at an angle to them so that the southwest corner of the room was directly behind his desk chair. The walls flanking the entry door were built-in bookcases running from floor to ceiling. In the middle of the north wall was a door, closed, which probably led to a conference room, and the wall on both sides of that door also held full-length bookcases. The bookcases and the paneling were all of the same dark wood, as were the desk and the two chairs before it and the one in which Maitre Poincaryt sat, behind the desk. Master Dichartyn sat in the chair opposite the front south corner of the desk.

Master Poincaryt appraised me in that way he had that seemed quick and casual and was not, then gestured to the empty chair opposite him and out from the other corner of the desk from where Master Dichartyn sat.

“Thank you, sir.” I was happy to get off my feet.

“What disaster have you caused now, Rhenn?” asked Maitre Poincaryt, his tone genial.

“I had nothing to do with causing this one, sir. The Tiempran priests exploded their Temple in the South Middle taudis. They’d gathered some of their followers, and the people were chanting . . .” I went on to explain exactly what had happened step by step. The only thing I left out was my promise to pay Horazt five golds. “. . . and as soon as I finished writing up the reports and making sure the priests and the taudischef were on the way to the main gaol, I hailed a hack and came here.”

“I’m not quite clear on one thing,” Maitre Poincaryt said. “Why did you suggest that the Tiemprans might have explosives in the Temple? How did you know that?”

“I didn’t know that, sir. That was the problem. But I remembered what the Tiempran First Speaker said, and when I saw all the taudis-dwellers chanting and the naval marines ready to charge them, I got a very bad feeling. The priests had already started one riot, and the Patrol had managed to contain it.” I shrugged. “I can’t explain more than that.”

“Can’t . . . or won’t?”

“I can’t. I knew, but I had no proof. I just knew.”

“This has posed a problem before,” Master Dichartyn said mildly.

“You’ve mentioned that.” Maitre Poincaryt’s voice was dry. He looked back to me. “Why did this Horazt agree to help you? Taudischefs don’t usually help either imagers or patrollers.”

“I know him. He brought in Shault when I had the duty. He claims young Shault is his cousin, but I’m fairly sure that Shault’s his son. Has Master Dichartyn told you . . . ?”

“Yes. I know you’ve been acting as an unofficial second preceptor to him.”

“I’ve also delivered messages from him to his mother, and I’ve run across Horazt several times. He’s provided some information about the taudis. I just pointed out to him that if we didn’t come up with the priests and Saelyhd that the marines were most likely to burn down the taudis and worse than that.”