Imager’s Intrigue

16

Because I really didn’t want to try to catch Master Dichartyn after breakfast, as soon as I finished the four mille run in the dimness of Lundi morning, I stopped and waited for him to finish eating. He just looked at me.

“Are you headed back to your house, sir?” I asked.

“Yes. What is it?” He shook his head and started walking.

“I’d mentioned the stronger elveweed. There have been some other strange developments…” I quickly filled him in on the young woman, as well as the probability of the stronger elveweed coming from around Ruile. “I can’t prove any of this, and there’s nothing that I can do about it, but I felt you should know.”

Dichartyn didn’t speak or look at me, but kept walking. Finally, he said, “I’ve learned to my regret that when you suggest connections among seemingly unrelated events, improbable as those connections may sound, I ignore them at my own risk. However…” He drew out the word. “Could you enlighten me as to what you think they all mean?”

“In specific terms, sir…no. I do think that they’re all part of something much, much larger, and I feel that it involves at least one High Holder, the freeholders of the southeast, and some Ferran agents. It might be a way of causing unrest in Solidar or increasing the costs of food for the Army and Navy-”

“Are you suggesting that things like that would distract the Council from pursuing action against Ferrum if the Ferrans actually invade Jariola?” Dichartyn shook his head. “Something like that would be counter-productive. If the Council discovers that the Ferrans are trying that kind of sabotage, even those who sympathize with the Ferrans would turn against them.”

“Would they, sir? All of them?” Based on what I’d seen, I wasn’t so sure. More than a few well-off artisans and factors were less than pleased with the policies and actions supported by the High-Holder-influenced Council.

“Not all of them, but even the greatest Ferran sympathizers certainly wouldn’t say anything.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

As we neared our houses, Master Dichartyn turned to me again. “I won’t say that all this isn’t linked, but I think we’re both missing something, and I’d like you to think it over.”

“Yes, sir. I can do that.”

But I didn’t have time even to discuss it with Seliora over breakfast because Diestrya was cranky and stubborn, and that wasn’t like her. Neither Seliora nor I could find anything wrong with her, and she didn’t seem to be cutting teeth. Besides, fussiness over teething had never been a problem for Diestrya.

In the end, we all managed to get dressed, fed, and to where we needed to be by approximately when we were supposed to be there. I even read both Veritum and Tableta. I was vaguely surprised that hostilities still hadn’t broken out in Cloisera, and not at all astounded to learn that both newsheets had stories on both the continuing increase in elver deaths and on grain-field fires southeast of Solis, but neither newsheet mentioned to whom the fields belonged…or the extent of lands ravaged.

I had just begun to have a chance to mull over Dichartyn’s words when I entered Third District station. I didn’t have a chance to consider them for long, because I’d barely reached the duty desk when Lyonyt addressed me.

“Sir…did you hear about Captain Bolyet?”

I had a sinking feeling with those words. “No. What happened?”

“There was an accident-some wagons got tangled at the intersection of North Middle and Bakers’ Lane…one woman hurt and so was a teamster. One of those work wagons with a crane, the kind they use to lift things, was one of them. He was trying to get the wagons untangled and the crane or the hoist broke loose and smashed his head. He never knew what hit him.” Lyonyt shook his head.

Bolyet was a good captain…or he had been, and I’d liked him. Had his death been an accident? Even though I had no other information, I had my doubts. But was that just because after nearly six years in the Civic Patrol, I doubted any coincidence? Was I becoming suspicious of everything, and for no reason? Was I seeing conspiracies and patterns that really didn’t exist?

“Thank you,” I finally said. “He was a good captain.”

After that, the day didn’t get any better at all. Since I’d left the station on Samedi evening, the patrollers had discovered three more elver deaths, and had two others reported from outside the taudis. It couldn’t just have been Third District, either, because in mid-afternoon a courier delivered a message from Commander Artois, calling a meeting of all District captains for eighth glass on Meredi morning. The subject was elveweed deaths.

Then there was a fire at the tinsmith’s off Sudroad, not a block from where I was grabbing a hasty bite to eat at Arnuel’s, and in the confusion, three smash-and-grabs went down in other shops nearby. I was just getting ready to leave the station when Helorran and Sonot returned with a swarthy man bound in cuffs. Sonot had a long slash from his ear to his chin-thin, but bleeding-and that required me to sign off on the charges, because they involved an assault on a Civic Patroller.

On more personal matters, none of the goldsmiths in Third District reported finding the gold brooch that Haerasyn had stolen, and none of the districts had found Haerasyn-not that most would have actively looked for him, since they had higher priorities than seeking a low-level elver thief. I was beginning to think Haerasyn had pawned everything within glasses of taking it. But then, maybe he still had the jewelry and was using the stolen golds for elveweed. In that case, there was a chance of recovering the brooch. Not much of one, but a chance.

I finally left the station a good half-glass late, but Seliora just looked relieved when I appeared at NordEste Design.

Once we were in the duty coach headed back to Imagisle, I turned to Seliora. “There’s no word in the patrol about Haerasyn, and none of the goldsmiths in my district have come forward. Has anyone in the family heard anything?”

“No.” Seliora paused. “Some of Aegina’s personal jewelry is missing…older pieces she hasn’t worn in years. She thinks Haerasyn might have taken them when he was here for the party at the turn of summer.”

I almost missed the last of her words, because Diestrya twisted in my arms.

“She’s been restless all day, and she’s a little warm.”

“That’s all you need…her getting sick, especially with both the Fhernon and Haestyr commissions…”

“If Alhyral would just let his bride-to-be deal with it, everything would be fine.”

“Is he still trying to proposition you?” I wouldn’t have put it past the slime-snake, High Holder or not.

“No…except he’s always undressing me with his eyes when Dhelora’s not looking.”

“She has to know.”

“What can she do? Even Iryela…” Seliora shook her head.

Neither of us needed to say more about the gilded prisons that held the wives of High Holders.

Between Diestrya’s squirming and my own concerns about the way the day had gone, I was more than glad when the duty coach came to a halt on Imagisle and we could start to walk back to the house. The cool air felt welcome after the closeness of the coach, and Seliora held Diestrya by one hand, and I held her other. The sky was so clear that even Erion’s thin waning reddish disk was sharp, hanging above the Council Chateau.

On the river I saw a steam tug moving steadily upstream, even with the houses of the senior maitres, including ours. The tug towed three barges, and, as with the string of barges I’d seen a week or so earlier, two of the three were riding higher. But there was also a bargeman standing on the rear barge, the one riding the highest, and he looked to have a spyglass, one trained in the direction of Imagisle.

I could imagine that a bargeman might well wonder about Imagisle, but would a bargeman have a spyglass?

“My tummy hurts. It hurts.” Diestrya halted, looking up. “Make it stop, Mama.”

Seliora knelt, then frowned. “Her stomach is rumbling.”

At that moment, Diestrya bent forward and vomited all over the stones of the path.

I turned from the barges and the bargeman with the spyglass to the immediate problem, the one facing all parents with small children at one time or another.