Imager’s Intrigue

52

Once again, on Solayi night, I didn’t sleep all that well. I’d told myself that, while I couldn’t help but be worried about Dartazn and all the juniors, I’d done what I could do. Either my plan worked, or it didn’t. If it didn’t, my name might well go down as the most inept and misguided Maitre D’Esprit in the history of the Collegium, but I still couldn’t do more about it. None of that helped. Neither did exercise and running early on Lundi. Nor did a good breakfast and a cheerful wife and daughter. The plain fact was that I’d launched a plan that was a tremendous gamble. That Solidar really had few other options didn’t matter, because what I’d done was designed to deal with a long-term problem before it got worse, and possibly unresolvable, rather than an immediate crisis. If my plan worked, people were going to be furious, and if it didn’t, they’d be even angrier…and for far longer.

After spending a glass or so in my study catching up on the latest reports from across Solidar, I walked to the duty coach stand, where I took one to the Council Chateau. The Council was meeting more than three weeks before its normally scheduled date, and Baratyn was short-handed and might need some help. I also wanted to see what I could find out, even if I had no precise idea of what I sought.

I hadn’t even gotten much through the side door used by Collegium security before I was face to face with Baratyn.

“Maitre Rhennthyl,” he said with a wry smile, “I should be surprised to see you here, but I find that I’m not.”

“I thought it wouldn’t hurt to be here today, especially after I left you even more short-handed than usual.”

“We’ll work it out somehow. Dartazn needed new challenges. But…I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your eyes open for a good third.”

“After all this is over, there might be several who are suitable. We’ll have to see. Are there lots of petitioners waiting outside at the gate?”

“Not that many. Most of those who might wish to ask something of a Councilor know that today’s meeting will deal with officially choosing a new Chief Councilor and seating Councilor Fhernon.”

“Is Glendyl here?”

“He isn’t here yet.”

“He may not come,” I suggested, “but I’d wager that Caartyl’s here.”

“He was here before seventh glass.”

“Is ninth glass still the time they’ll meet?”

Baratyn nodded.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I hope not,” he replied with a laugh.

I couldn’t help smiling. “Then you don’t mind if I just sort of wander around?”

“That might help Ramsael.”

“He’s still in his old study, then?”

“He’s not Chief Councilor yet. The Council does try to follow its own rules…”

The way he let the sentence dangle suggested what we both knew. I nodded and headed for the north circular steps up to the upper level where the Councilors had their studies. Outside the Councilors’ lounge, I saw two men talking. One was High Holder Ramsael. I didn’t know the other, but since I did know all the Councilors by sight, it was almost a certainty that the other man was High Holder Fhernon, the one who would replace Suyrien on the Council. Since he had not, as of yet, he was doubtless in the awkward position of having neither study nor clerk, but only for less than a glass.

“…Find the Council a very different place…”

“So I hear.”

Ramsael saw me and gestured. “Maitre Rhennthyl, I thought it might be possible that you would be here. Have you met Councilor Fhernon?”

Why did everyone think I would be at the Council Chateau? Because Master Dichartyn had been…or because rumors were beginning to swirl around about me?

I stepped forward. “I have not.” I turned to Fhernon as I halted. “I have heard of you and your scrupulous fairness, however.” That was close to what Seliora had said.

“You see, Fhernon,” said Ramsael with a laugh, “your reputation precedes you. Because the Collegium is less than forthcoming, I might also point out that Maitre Rhennthyl is now the second-ranking imager in all Solidar.”

That was definitely a pleasant warning to Fhernon.

“I had not heard.” Fhernon inclined his head. “I am certain, then, that we will be seeing more of you.”

“Not too often,” I replied. “You’re far more likely to see Maitre Dyana or Councilor Rholyn. They are the ones who speak for the Collegium.”

“While you act for it,” added Ramsael.

“Only occasionally,” I said lightly, “and when I have, it’s often been for the benefit of various Councilors.”

Ramsael nodded to Fhernon. “If you will excuse us, Fhernon. Since I see Maitre Rhennthyl so seldom, I’m going to prevail upon him for a few moments of his time.” Then he turned back to me. “If you would not mind?”

“It would be my pleasure.” I wasn’t certain that it would be, but there was little else to be said, and I’d learn something. Whether it would be useful to my own interests was another question.

Ramsael gestured, and I walked alongside him toward the study that would become Fhernon’s in a few glasses, when Ramsael became Chief Councilor and took over the large corner study that had been Suyrien’s.

“I was sorry to hear that the Collegium was shelled.” He opened the study door. “I presume it was by Ferran agents.”

“Since we have not found those who did it,” I replied as I followed Ramsael into the study and closed the door, “all we know for certain is that they were accomplished gunners.”

Ramsael did not seat himself behind the desk, but stood beside the closed window.

I could feel a slight draft that suggested the window was not so tightly fitted as it might have been.

“You may not know this, Maitre Rhennthyl, but I was not the heir to Ram-sealte. So I took a commission as an officer and spent four years at sea.” He turned from the window. “The more I’ve learned about the bombardment of the Collegium, the more concerned I’ve become. The most senior and able of the imagers were targeted. As you noted, the gunnery was excellent. More than excellent. Outstanding, I would judge.” He paused. “Could that have been done by an imager? Certainly, there were no vessels remaining in the area.”

“The shells were fired from barges north of Imagisle. Quite a few people saw the barges burning and exploding before they sank. As for an imager creating that destruction…no. The best of imagers might be able to create and detonate one or two shells in that fashion, but there were something like eight fired quickly.”

“I thought as much, but it is best to ask. I must confess that I do not understand the motivation behind such an attack.” He held up a hand. “Oh, I can understand how the Ferrans well might wish to cripple Solidar by striking a blow at the Collegium, but by far the best way to do so would be to have targeted the quarters of your junior imagers. They represent the future, and one could kill far more of them with each shell. Whoever was behind the attack wanted to take out the leadership of the Collegium.”

“That is very clear,” I agreed. “But there have never been that many senior imagers, and I have no doubts that Ferrum knows that.”

“Might I ask what you intend to do about that and these other attacks on Solidar?”

“Might I ask why you’re asking me, rather than Councilor Rholyn or Maitre Dyana?”

“You could indeed. The truth is that you’re known not to imply one thing while meaning another or to say nothing at all in most elegant phrases.”

“I might not say anything at all.”

“You might not, but you will not waste my time.”

“Let us just say that the Collegium is well aware of the need to act.”

“Will the Naval Command support you in what ever you plan?”

“They will…either in the near-term…or later.”

“Your words contain implications…” He cocked his head slightly.

“All words do, Councilor.”

“Pardon me if I am unseemly in my bluntness, Maitre, but when might we know of the…implications?”

“As we both know,” I replied politely, “we are effectively at war with Ferrum. Until the Ferrans are dissuaded, that conflict will continue. We are working on such dissuasion. At the moment, I would prefer not to say more.”

“You are every bit Dichartyn’s successor.” Ramsael laughed. “Let me change the subject to another that will affect us all, if not quite so immediately. Like all the High Holders who are Councilors, I opposed the ‘reforms’ that the late Chief Councilor managed to have enacted in the last session of the Council.” Ramsael smiled politely at me. “I presume you understand the measures to which I’m referring.”

“If you’re referring to those contained in the low justice changes, I do.” I didn’t see any point in denying that I knew very well. First, to do so would have been lying, even if I did so by evasion, rather than by outright prevarication. Second, all that would do would be to delay matters, and not for all that long, while irritating Ramsael. And third, it would just make the eventual resolution more difficult.

“These changes could have far-reaching effects. I trust you understand that as well.” He looked at me directly.

“The changes would come, regardless of those provisions,” I pointed out.

“How will the Collegium act if efforts are made to reverse those so-called reforms?”

“I can’t speak for the Collegium, Councilor.”

“I would have expected no other response, you understand? Yet, I had to ask.”

“If the Collegium speaks or acts, Maitre Dyana will be the one with whom you will deal…and no one else.”

Ramsael frowned. “Given that, as a friend of my daughter and her husband, then, how would you advise me?”

That made it difficult. “Let me just say that I suspect your efforts would be better directed elsewhere.”

He nodded slowly. “How much time do we have?”

“You know what the law said. I would judge, and it is only my opinion, that if the Council follows the law and the original charter, the Collegium would see no reason to speak or act.”

“That will not set well with some.”

“Not following the law and charter will set less well with even more, I fear.”

“The Collegium stands where?”

“Behind the law. Where else could the Collegium and its Maitre stand?”

“Not all laws are for the best, some would say.”

“I would agree. I would also say that a land that does not live by its laws will not long endure. It may change those laws, but to flout them will destroy it far more quickly than following bad laws.”

“You have me there, Maitre Rhennthyl, and best we leave it at that. Is there anything I might be able to help you with?” Ramsael did not smile, but his voice was quietly earnest.

“Several matters, possibly. What can you tell me about the Banque D’Ouestan?”

“Very little directly, except that they’ve recently opened branches in Kherseilles and Estisle. They also appear to be offering favorable terms for loans to factors.” Ramsael seemed relieved at the change in subject, even though he’d brought up the initial questions.

“They wouldn’t be touting the fact that they’re not beholden to or owned by High Holders, would they?” I asked.

The faintest hint of a smile crossed the Councilor’s face, then vanished. “There are rumors to that effect.”

“Do you know what factors of import might have had dealings with them?”

“Know? No. There was word that Veblynt played off the Banque D’Excelsis against them to finance his new paper mill south of Rivages. Glendyl avoided talking about them, and that suggests he knew more than he wanted to reveal. Reyner warned everyone to avoid them because they were backed by outland golds. Someone suggested that troublemaker Broussard had dealings with them…”

I asked a few more questions, listened, and then took my leave. I was intrigued that Ramsael was familiar with Veblynt, but then the paper factor had come from a High Holder family, and because he was a friend of my father’s, I could certainly talk to him…when I had some time. In the end, I stayed at the Council Chateau through the opening glass, while the votes were taken to confirm Ramsael as Chief Councilor and to seat Fhernon as the High Holder Councilor replacing Suyrien.

Rholyn made an eloquent speech in support of Ramsael, but the only words that stuck in my memory were: “Like any good Chief Councilor, Councilor Ramsael will be mindful of our heritage. He will understand and accept the present, while planning for a better future that neither rejects the past nor blindly embraces change for the sake of change…”

I couldn’t help feeling that Rholyn was trying to be all things to all Councilors.

When I finally got back to the Collegium a quint or so after the first glass of the afternoon, I knew I had to concentrate on the links between Glendyl and the other factors and the Banque D’Ouestan.