Imager’s Intrigue

58

Dinner at my parents’ house on Samedi evening was quiet, and that was a relief. Since Khethila hadn’t traveled from Kherseilles, not that I expected any such travail, I didn’t mention much about the reception, except the feeling of being on display.

“That comes with the perquisites, Rhenn,” my father had replied, not quite brusquely. “Too bad you couldn’t ask about wool contracts from those Navy types.”

Mother had looked sharply at him, and the conversation had turned quickly to children.

The remainder of the weekend had been mostly quiet, although I did embark on beginning the actual painting of the portrait of Diestrya. That would take a number of short sittings, because she certainly couldn’t sit still for long. By Lundi morning, I couldn’t help but think that Dartazn and the imagers should be in the process of deploying to begin the attacks on Ferrum. What if what we had planned so meticulously didn’t work out? What if too many of the young imagers froze and couldn’t do what had been asked of them?

I did ask Schorzat what he knew about Caellynd.

His response was close to what I’d expected. “He’s been recently posted to the Naval Command. He was the senior Fleet-Marshal for close to seven years, and the one who was so successful in the first Ferran conflict. The Council picked him as Valeun’s deputy and successor.”

“Was that Suyrien’s doing?” I’d asked.

“Maitre Dichartyn never said anything. Neither did anyone else, but Caellynd was a successful Fleet-Marshal who pled the case for more modern warships before the Council.”

There was nothing in the records or files, and, again, all I had were suspicions. I was worrying even more about Dartazn and the imagers by Mardi morning. As soon as I’d entered the administration building, I’d asked Beleart if we’d received any dispatches. We hadn’t, of course, and I knew we shouldn’t have, but I’d still hoped and dreaded what might have arrived.

The reports that flowed in didn’t tell me anything new, but reminded me that I not only needed to standardize them, but to find a way to require Patrol Commanders to provide more details, and that would require Council action. I could require those changes of regionals and the collegia heads, but without improved Patrol data, there wouldn’t be a significant change.

Finally, at just before ninth glass, Ayma, one of the newest primes, knocked on my study door to inform me that a Factorius Veblynt had arrived.

I hurried out to the reception hall, where he was waiting. Every time I saw Factor Veblynt, I was surprised, because he made an impression in memory larger than his actual height. He was slender, although his carriage was perfect, and he was even a touch shorter than Seliora. He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. This time, the corners of his eyes lifted, as if he were truly glad to see me. Often they didn’t. “Rhenn! I understand that you’re a Maitre D’Esprit.”

“Due to the misfortunes of others,” I demurred.

“Nonsense. You may hold what ever position you do in the Collegium for that reason, but even I know that the ranks of the Maitres are due to ability alone.”

We walked from the reception hall back to my study, where I closed the door.

Veblynt surveyed the chamber, then settled into the chair in front of the desk. “Such surroundings aren’t designed to let you take yourself seriously.”

“No, but whether by design or custom or both, I have no idea.” I added quickly, “You are most kind to come here, and I appreciate it.”

“Anytime the son of a friend travels to my mill to see me, especially when he’s one of the highest imagers, it merits a return call.” He smiled. “Especially when I was already going to be less than a mille away.”

“It was kind, nonetheless, and appreciated.”

“You obviously had something in mind.”

“I did. I’d heard rumors that you sought competing bids for a loan in order to build your new paper mill.”

Veblynt shrugged. “I could have built it with my own capital, but that wouldn’t have left any reserves. Even so, the Banque D’Excelsis didn’t want to offer favorable terms, and I’d have been a fool not to seek other terms. They don’t like it when they can’t make more on their loans than the enterprises they fund make on their operations. Once I did get another commitment, they became more reasonable. By the way, I must congratulate you and Seliora on the training you provide the apprentices at your taudis mill. Some of them will be working at our new facility.”

“Thank you. Facility? It’s not a paper mill?”

“It’s a mill and a printing facility. We’ve been making blank documents for factors, everything from ledger sheets to printed forms for banques, but the demand was more than we could handle at the old facility. The new one will just make document paper, and the rest is for the printing side.”

“And you went with another banque to get the funds?”

He looked sharply at me. “Rhenn…are you after me for something?”

“No. I’m after information. From what I heard, you know some things that might fill in pieces of the puzzle.”

“Given what I’ve done for your father, I’m going to trust you on this.”

“I know. You helped him through a hard time with some Navy contracts. He didn’t tell me, either.”

He smiled wryly. “I might have known you’d figure that out. What are you looking for?”

“I’d heard you used the threat of going to an outland banque. I’m interested in that banque.”

“That’s not much of a secret. It couldn’t be if the threat were to work. It was the Banque D’Ouestan, but you already knew that, or you wouldn’t have asked.”

“They don’t have a branch here, though.”

He nodded slowly. “I dealt with a Vyktor D’Banque D’Ouestan. He has a place of business on the Avenue D’Theatre.”

“How did you find out about him?”

“From one of Glendyl’s clerks.” Veblynt smiled with a certain satisfaction. “Unlike some factors, I talk to more than a few clerks.”

“Do you know if they make many loans or advances here in L’Excelsis?”

“Very few, I suspect. Just enough to provide cover for Vyktor, I would guess. He was happy enough to write out a commitment, as if he knew he wouldn’t necessarily have to make the loan. He could have, but he’s no more a true banque representative than I’m a High Holder. He wasn’t in the slightest interested in buying forms, even at a very reduced price.”

“An interesting comparison,” I observed.

“But accurate.”

“How widely is that known, do you think?”

“Not all that widely, I would judge. He is knowledgeable enough about finance, and he does make loans and handle other funding transfers through the Banque D’Ouestan’s corresponding arrangements with the Banque D’Rivages and the Banque D’Kherseilles, and doubtless one or two others. He is often gone for periods of time, and I’ve never known a banque that allowed its representatives to be out of touch so much. I’d judge that he’s also a representative of either Ferrum, Jariola, or Stakanar. That’s just a judgment on my part.” He looked directly at me. “I don’t think I’m telling you much you don’t already suspect.”

“Do you know any others with whom he’s had dealings?”

“There are rumors that Broussard received funding through him, and I mentioned Broussard’s name in passing.” Veblynt offered a crooked smile. “Vyktor doesn’t like him. I couldn’t tell why from his reaction.”

“What do you know about Broussard?”

“He’s a freeholder. He’s also extraordinarily wealthy…and he would squeeze the last drop of water from a sponge in the desert and try to sell it to a man dying of thirst. He’d betray his first-born son or an infant daughter for a single gold.”

I found myself fingering my chin. “I haven’t heard anything about him since that explosion at the Place D’Opera.”

“That’s true. I hadn’t thought about that. It’s certainly not like him to be so quiet.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if Broussard had taken funds from Vyktor and double-crossed him in the process. I’d always worried about why a High Holder would use explosives against a factor. That simply didn’t follow the High Holder traditions of dealing with their enemies, as I’d discovered; but if Vykor happened to be representing Ferran interests…

I was also beginning to worry about Geuffryt. I’d heard nothing from Valeun, nor from any other source, and it would have been a grave mistake to have mentioned his name at Juniae D’Shendael’s reception. I’d never managed to arrange it so that I was alone with either Caellynd or Juniae, in the latter case certainly because she wanted to avoid any hint of personal closeness.

“Rhenn…” Veblynt interrupted my musing. “You have the strangest look.”

“I was wondering about Broussard,” I evaded, “and how he escaped being killed in the explosion.”

“He was looking for a way to do in Estyelle, anyway.” Veblynt shrugged. “You’re thinking that Vyktor had something to do with that?”

“I have suspicions.”

“Vyktor’s capable of it, I’d judge, but, if he did, Broussard outwitted him and turned matters his own way.”

“If Broussard did,” I asked, “then why has he been so silent?”

“You think he’s afraid of what’s behind Vyktor?”

“Broussard can’t be stupid.” I pointed out the obvious to see what Veblynt would say.

“He’s anything but stupid. He’s likely waiting for someone to act against Vyktor.”

“That would mean he either knows someone will or has a way to push someone into doing so. I haven’t seen either.”

“You’re looking,” Veblynt said with a faint smile.

“Looking doesn’t mean acting. Neither the Collegium nor the Civic Patrol is inclined to act if there isn’t some sort of evidence of wrongdoing. Suspicion isn’t enough. Nor is knowing. We have nothing to tie Vyktor to the Place D’Opera explosion or anything else, or even to Glendyl.”

Veblynt nodded. “That is often the problem with pure knowledge. You’ve gotten around that in the past, Rhenn. I’m certain you will this time.”

“It’s harder when everyone is watching you.” My words came out sardonically.

He laughed. “Then set it up so that they’re watching someone else.”

I couldn’t help but laugh myself, as I realized that he’d given me an idea for a solution. It was just too bad that it was for a different problem. “I will take your words to heart, and I thank you for coming.”

“If I find anything of value to you,” he said as he rose, “I’ll send it.”

“Thank you.” I stood as well.

“And keep on distrusting Cydarth. He’s tied up in it all somehow as well. I don’t know how, but…” He shrugged, then smiled. “It is a pleasure to see how well you’ve done after so much adversity has come to your family.”

“Friends help.”

“True friends help,” he replied.

I couldn’t disagree with that.

After I walked Veblynt to the main doors of the administration building and made my way back to my study, I thought about his last words. I’d always distrusted Cydarth, and Veblynt had always been right, if often veiled, in his assessments. Yet Geuffryt had tried to get me to attack Cydarth. Why? If…if Geuffryt happened to feel himself a “patriot” who was out to destroy the influence of the Collegium, was the idea to show that Cydarth had been spitefully wronged by Artois’s allies, such as the Collegium? That seemed rather frail. Yet…if Cydarth did happen to be getting Ferran funds through the Banque D’Ouestan, and Geuffryt had discovered that through Kearyk, was there any connection at all between Geuffryt and Vyktor? Or was Geuffryt trying to expose Cydarth as a Ferran plaque through me, because he couldn’t reveal how he’d found out about the transfers? Much as I disliked and distrusted Geuffryt, that appeared the most likely possibility…and that bothered me greatly.