Imager’s Intrigue

11

On Samedi morning, I did make the effort to get up early and struggle through Clovyl’s exercises, although I didn’t have to go to the station, since Alsoran and I had traded Samedis. I’d hoped to see Master Dichartyn there, since, as a member of the security section, even if he headed it, he usually joined the exercise group. Unfortunately, he didn’t show up.

After I finished the run and caught my breath, as I walked back toward the house, hoping I’d get there before Diestrya woke, my eyes turned westward, where, occasionally, I could make out the indistinct shape of the Council Chateau in the faintest graying of the night sky that would soon show the light of dawn. Artiema, less than full, hung over the Chateau in the western sky. Erion had set glasses before.

On the section of the River Aluse that flowed along the west side of Imagisle, a steam tug puffed upstream towing three barges. Although it was hard to tell, two of the three looked to be riding higher, as if they were empty or lightly loaded. Most barges only traveled as far as Ferravyl, or if they came as far upstream as L’Excelsis, they usually docked at the barge piers, adjoining the ironway transfer station south of the city, about a mille south of Alusine Wool. The handful that went farther upriver could only go so far as Rivages before the river became too shallow.

Later, a glass after breakfast, I walked over to Master Dichartyn’s house. He was actually home and was even the one to open the door. I could hear the voices of two girls, with tones that suggested either a heated discussion or an argument.

He glanced back over his shoulder and shook his head before saying, “This isn’t social, is it, Rhenn?” His smile was faint but knowing.

“No, but it won’t take long.”

He stepped out onto the porch, closing the door. He waited for me to speak.

“You may recall that there’s a newer and stronger form of elveweed coming into L’Excelsis, and we’re seeing a lot more elver deaths everywhere…” I explained what I’d seen in Third District and told him about Commander Artois’s directive. “…and I found out that the stronger version seems to be distributed only in Estisle, Solis, Westisle, and Kherseilles, and, of course, L’Excelsis. Interestingly enough, in the other four cities, there have been a number of deaths of Pharsi men, married men, far more than would seem natural. All of them were the eldest sons.”

“What do you consider more than natural?”

“There have been at least fourteen deaths in the last month, all of oldest sons.”

For several moments, Dichartyn was silent. “What do you think?”

“I don’t even have an idea, except that they must be connected in some fashion, since the cities involved are the four largest ports and the capital.” I stopped. “Oh…there’s one other thing. There’s a story going around that smoking the stronger elveweed will make youngsters like imagers, or even something better.”

Dichartyn shook his head. “That rumor comes up every few years. It has ever since I’ve been here. If it were true, most of the Collegium would have come from the taudis. Still…that’s troubling, especially now.”

“Why now?”

“What do you think?”

He was always turning questions back to me, but I answered anyway. “It’s only a matter of weeks before Ferrum finds a pretext-or makes one-to invade Jariola. If we don’t help the Oligarch with troops, which I don’t see happening, the Ferrans will take the coal fields, along with a large chunk of Jariolan territory. The Council will be split, and if there’s more unrest in the taudis, along with the unresolved conflict between the freeholders and the High Holders, the Council won’t want to get involved in the Ferrum-Jariola fighting, and that will lead to the eventual decline and fall of Jariola.”

“Why would that be bad? I don’t think you’ve ever been a supporter of the Oligarch.”

“I’m not, but the Ferrans pose a far bigger danger to Solidar than Jariola ever will. The Jariolans just want to hang on to what they have. The Ferrans want to rule the world, and they’d like it to be a mercantilist empire, with factors as commercial High Holders or the like, without any of the internal restraints present here in Solidar.” I paused just briefly. “I’ve offered my thoughts. What about yours?”

He smiled, ruefully. “I agree with you about the Ferran motives and the likely outcome of war in Cloisera. Our Navy is presently somewhat under-strength, and while the Council has debated funding ten additional warships, nothing has happened. Suyrien’s works would build them, and Glendyl’s manufactory in Ferravyl would supply the engines and turbines, and those details are causing delays. The Naval Command is also complaining that they’re having trouble getting enough recruits and that the conscription teams have been restricted in recent years.”

“Only in L’Excelsis,” I replied dryly.

“It appears that the Civic Patrols in other cities have also decided that the precedent you set is one that keeps the taudis areas more peaceful. The Navy can’t argue against that, but they don’t like it. Then, there is the grain problem.”

I waited.

“The Navy purchases a great deal of grain-flour, actually. They prefer not to deal with a large number of sellers. So they put out orders for bid, and the bidders have to guarantee the quantity, the quality, and the lowest bidder who can satisfy the first two criteria wins the order.”

I thought I could see what was coming. “The bids have all gone to High Holders?”

“Until this year. One Broussard D’Factorius assembled a flour cooperative, to which most of the freehold growers and flour factors in the area around Piedryn belong. He built a large mill and storage facility.”

“They’re undercutting…Haebyn,” I had to struggle for the name, “and the other High Holders.”

“Not so much as they could,” Dichartyn went on. “They’ve had to employ a large number of guards at the facility to prevent thefts and vandalism that doesn’t seem to occur at the facilities of High Holders. That cuts into their profits. They’re complaining to the various factoring associations, and to the Council. The High Holders are complaining that a flour cooperative is unfair collusion.”

“That’s why mills and silos and other facilities are suffering damage?”

“No one can prove it. Not yet.”

“That can’t make Broussard all that popular with the High Holders. Even so, I still don’t see why someone would blow up Broussard’s carriage. Anyone with enough skill and knowledge to do that surely would have known that his assistant was in it.”

Dichartyn shook his head. “Broussard claims he came down with stomach poisoning at dinner just before the performance. He and the assistant were attired in a similar fashion…”

“So he knew or suspected that someone was after him, and he let them take care of his domestic difficulties?”

“That’s only a surmise, but he is a very, very intelligent man.”

“That way, he’s still around to point the Civic Patrol and the Council in the direction he wishes.” I paused. “Does he have any Ferran connections?”

“Not that Schorzat or I have been able to discover. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“Are any other factors or freeholders following his example-the idea of cooperatives and the like?”

“Councilor Caartyl is pressing for a change in the laws to declare such cooperatives unable to bid on governmental procurements unless their organizational structure binds them to commitments made by a permanent head of the organization with a fixed term of office that is at least two years and not more than five, who cannot succeed himself for more than one term.”

“He doesn’t want the Ferran mercantile structure creeping into Solidar under the guise of cooperatives.”

Dichartyn nodded. “Not surprisingly, the factoring associations oppose the proposed law. The guilds, of course, support it, and the High Holders are split. Suyrien is leaning to support it as a compromise, but he hasn’t said so publicly.”

“Has the Ferran envoy commented?”

“In recent years, no Ferran envoy has commented on much of anything. Publicly or privately.” He looked to me.

There was no point in replying to that. Envoy Vhillar had more than deserved what he’d gotten. “What else is happening that you haven’t told me?”

“Besides the fact that you gave Draffyd pause with your medical imaging?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“As I recall, when you get into those positions, usually trouble follows.”

“That was why I went to Draffyd.”

“He was grateful. He did admit you might make a competent imaging medical surgeon, but he wouldn’t want to put a scalpel in your hand. You have the dexterity, but not any practice.”

“I wouldn’t, either.” The thought of cutting into people, even for a good reason, wasn’t all that appealing. “What else?”

He shrugged. “Everything is very quiet at the moment.”

“That’s the most disturbing thing you could have said.”

We both laughed, and before long I was headed back to our house to spend what I hoped would be a quiet afternoon and evening with my family.