L. Modesitt: Imager's challenge

“Only if they looked so good as you, and that wouldn’t ever happen.”

Seliora shook her head.

I offered my arm, and we walked down the steps and outside toward the coach. I extended my shields to cover her. Charlsyn kept his eyes on Seliora from the time we walked out the door until I helped her into the coach. So did young Bhenyt, closing the door only after we were both settled into the coach.

Once the coach was moving, Seliora turned to me. “Are there other guests besides the Ferdinands and the Veblynts?”

“Not that I know.” I grinned. “What did Grandmama Diestra find out about them?”

Seliora offered a sheepish grin. “Ferdinand not only has his own brick kilns, but he has arrangements with other brick and stone manufactories across Solidar. That wouldn’t work except for the ironway, you know,” she pointed out. “I was thinking about that when we toured the textile manufactories last summer . . . just how much things have changed in the last century.”

Steam engines and turbines had changed the world-in some ways, but not in others.

“What did she find out about Veblynt?” I was interested to know, because Veblynt was a newer acquaintance of my father, newer meaning in the last ten years. “Father had mentioned that he’d started by buying lots of ruined cottons.”

“First, he’s the son of a former ruined High Holder, who killed himself with an antique dueling pistol or died deliberately in a race, depending on which story you believe, about twenty-five years ago. Grandmama said that was too good for him, and that he made High Holder Ryel look like Rholan the Unnamer. Veblynt used what remained of his share of the family fortune and perhaps his wife’s dowry to build a paper mill that uses hemp and rags and some sort of clay, I think, and now he supplies most of the paper for the printers in L’Excelsis. Mother thinks he was also an illegitimate son.” She looked at me. “What do you think of him?”

“I don’t know. He’s quite charming. He was, anyway, the last time I met him, but that has to have been a good seven or eight years back.”

“You haven’t seen him or his wife since then?”

I laughed. “You might recall that I spent most of my time with Master Caliostrus and that my father wasn’t all that pleased with my artistic ambitions.” I shrugged. “Now I’m more respectable.”

“And feared.” Seliora tilted her head slightly. “I’ll be interested to meet this Factor Veblynt.”

“Oh?”

“No one becomes a success in ten years without secrets, especially someone with his background. I’d like to see whether he hides or flaunts them.”

“More farsight?”

“Maybe.”

I didn’t press on that, knowing she’d said what she would.

Charlsyn drove right under the portico of the two-story brick dwelling in the fashionable section of L’Excelsis to the east of the Plaza D’Este, a dwelling large enough to signify prosperity, but definitely not a chateau or a mansion.

We were the first to arrive, but not early enough for me to ask Father or Mother questions because a deep burgundy coach pulled up under the portico right after Charlsyn had let us off and driven toward the stable. So we just waited inside the formal parlor as the other couple made their way to the door and were escorted inside. I could tell it was Veblynt and his wife, because I recalled that he had been shorter and slighter than I even years ago, while Ferdinand was stocky and close to my father’s height.

Father made the introductions. “Rhennthyl, you might recall Factorius Veblynt, and this is Madame Eliesa D’Veblynt.”

Madame D’Veblynt could have been a cousin-or some other close relation to Dulyk D’Ryel’s sister Iryela-as petite and blond as she was, an older version of Iryela in a way.

“I’m pleased to see you both,” I offered.

Father looked back to Veblynt. “Rhennthyl is a master imager. Rousel, whom you met last year, handles the business in Kherseilles. He and Remaya had a son this past summer.”

“A very junior master, I might add,” I quickly interjected, all too aware that I wouldn’t have held the rank, at least not openly, if it hadn’t been required for my assignment as liaison to the Civic Patrol of L’Excelsis.

“And this is Mistress Seliora D’Shelim. Her family owns NordEste Design,” Mother said quickly.

Veblynt was slender, slightly shorter than Seliora. When he smiled, he revealed perfect white teeth, but the corners of his eyes didn’t crinkle. “Mistress Seliora . . . the crafting of NordEste is indeed well known, as is all that lies behind it.”

Seliora inclined her head politely. “I’m certain that what lies behind your success with your paper mill is far more intriguing.”

Mother’s eyes flicked toward me, but I just maintained a polite smile.

“Hard work,” declared Father abruptly. “That’s what’s behind anything of value. All the ideas and all the inspiration don’t amount to anything without hard work.”

“A most blunt and accurate summation, Chenkyr,” offered Veblynt.

At that moment, Ferdinand and his wife appeared, and there was another round of introductions, this one matter-of-fact, and before long everyone was seated in the formal parlor, and Nellica was bringing around a tray with the wines everyone had requested. I’d chosen the Dhuensa, and so had Seliora.

“As I recall,” Ferdinand said after a sip of his Cambrisio and a moment of silence, “you were once a portraiturist, were you not, Rhenn?”

“I was journeyman for Master Caliostrus. That was before I discovered I had imaging abilities. I even painted a few portraits, mostly of young women and their cats, but also of a factor or two.”

“Oh?”

“Factorius Masgayl was the first.”

“Ah . . . the rope and cable fellow. I’d imagine he’ll be doing quite well with his new facility near the naval yards at Westisle. I heard he won the contracts for the new cruisers, for all the cabling, that is.”

“And Rhenn did a marvelous one of Tomaz’s niece,” Mother added.

“Ah . . . the one of little Aeylana. She looks so alive in that. I’m her unnamed, you know?”

“I didn’t know that,” Father said, but then he didn’t really believe in the old custom of a fallback unnamed guardian, supposedly known by name only to the parents and the chorister of the Nameless.

I merely smiled. I had liked that portrait.

“Does your background as a portraiturist help you as an imager?” asked Eliesa.

I would have appreciated the question more had I not seen the momentary look that had passed from Veblynt to his wife. “I suppose everything helps, but since I’m the first artist who’s become an imager in some time, it’s probably more a matter of personal inclination than a result of artistic training.”

“Can you still paint?” asked Veblynt.

“I can paint. Anyone can paint. I just can’t sell anything that I paint.”

He merely nodded to my reply, and that suggested he knew more than he was saying.

“Are you painting anything right now?” pressed Eliesa.

“At the moment, madame, I’m engaged in imager business.” I smiled. “Except, of course, at times like this, which are seldom enough.” Before they could ask another question, I turned to Ferdinand. “With all the concerns about war, how is your business coming?”

The bluff and square-faced Ferdinand shrugged. “It doesn’t change much here. If I were in Estisle or Westisle, there would be some more Navy contracts, but they wouldn’t be for much. If war breaks out, things will get worse. Afterward, if we win, I might have more business.”

“Do you think war will break out?” asked Seliora.

“You might ask Rhenn,” Ferdinand said with a laugh.