Imager’s Intrigue

71

Jeudi was quiet, and so was Vendrei, but that did give me a chance to think. At every step, I’d been hampered by the lack of information, from what was happening across Solidar in any meaningful way, to what was being manufactured where in what quantities, to how many High Holders there were. So I asked Ferlyn to join me in my study, and I told him the problem and showed him what I had in mind.

He laughed.

I waited.

“Didn’t you know?” Ferlyn looked surprised. “Quaelyn and I created a whole set of forms over two years ago, for the artisan guilds, the factoring associations, and the High Holders. Maitre Dichartyn told us to refine them, but that it wouldn’t be possible to get the Council to implement the requirements for High Holders and freeholders to comply. He said we’d have to wait for a crisis to prove they were necessary…”

And I’d believed no one had thought about the problem. In what else had Dichartyn anticipated me? After a moment, I said, “Could you get me a set to look over?”

“I’ll have it for you in less than a quint. You don’t mind if it has some of Master Dichartyn’s comments in the margins, do you?”

“Hardly.” His comments were likely to be better than any I’d have.

After Ferlyn returned with a folder containing pages of suggested forms, I read through them, comparing my drafts to the older ones. I could see the need for change in theirs, but also a number of things I hadn’t considered. I hadn’t finished when Gherard rapped on the door.

“The Maitre would like to see you, sir.”

“I’ll be right there.” I left all the forms on my desk and followed Gherard back up to Maitre Dyana’s study.

She was standing by the window, looking out across the quadrangle, when I entered. For a time, she continued to stare out the window, even as I walked toward her, stopping short of her desk. Then she turned and walked to the side of the desk. She did not seat herself.

“I’ve just received a communique from Fleet Marshal Asarynt and a message from Dartazn. He’s been delayed a day because there wasn’t space for all of them on the first express. They’ll be arriving on Solayi morning.”

“Did he mention who’s coming back?”

“He wrote that he didn’t feel comfortable putting the names in writing when he couldn’t give them to another imager. He didn’t say much of anything except that they were all glad to be back in Solidar and that he would report to you and me as soon as he arrived.” She handed me the single sheet of heavy paper.

I read it, but she’d summarized it accurately.

“What about Asarynt?” I asked.

Before I could finish asking, the two page communique was in my hands. Several phrases and sentences stood out.

“…superb organization and discipline of imagers by Maitre Dartazn…”

“…extremely effective targeting, particularly in the strike force attacking Ferrial under Maitre Dartazn’s direct supervision, reduced the Ferran capital and entire cities to ruins and forced complete Ferran capitulation…”

“…professionalism on all levels by the Collegium a major contribution to the effectiveness of the operation…”

At the end, I looked up. “Dartazn did well. That’s more than clear.”

“Caellynd sent some other materials. The Assembly of Ferrum-what remains of it-has surrendered. They didn’t have much choice. Caellynd intends to take the best ships in their fleet and scuttle the rest.” Maitre Dyana looked at me. “I can see why Dichartyn spent so much time with you. He was afraid of what you might do, you know?”

There wasn’t much to say to that.

“You have this tendency to solve problems completely, regardless of the cost.”

“I’ve never been given much choice.”

She shook her head, clearly ignoring my reply. “Fifteen port cities in ashes…tens of thousands starving…”

“There wasn’t any other way, not at the end,” I pointed out. “They’re the ones who started the conflict by invading Jariola and by trying to cripple Solidar. We never had the resources to respond in kind. Not in a timely fashion, and after the destruction of Glendyl’s engine works, the longer the conflict dragged on, the worse our position would have become.”

“You can see that and act on it. Most people, even imagers, will try to cope within the world that they know.”

“I use what’s in the world,” I pointed out.

“You use it in ways no one else seems to have considered. You always have, from the moment you first realized you were an imager, Dichartyn said.”

“If I hadn’t, someone would have.”

“Who?” she asked.

I couldn’t think of anyone. Dartazn had obviously carried out my plan effectively, and Chassendri had been vital in coming up with the incendiaries, but I’d had to explain what I had in mind to them. That had been true with Dichartyn as well on several occasions.

“You see?” Dyana asked dryly.

I wanted to protest that others in my position might have done what I’d done…except it didn’t matter. I’d been where I’d been, and I’d done what I’d done. Asking whether an imager made the times, or the times made the imager was a fool’s question. In the end, what was…was. When you could play the plaques, you did, or you lost, and when you were the one who was played by the times and others, all you could do was survive as best you could.

“I also received a proposal from Caellynd that he intends to submit to the Council,” Maitre Dyana added. “He wants to shift fleet headquarters to Westisle. The water is deeper there, and the port is better.”

“That sounds like a good idea. It didn’t happen before because Suyrien would have opposed it?”

“I suspect so.”

I couldn’t help but think that there would be many, many changes in the months and years to come, some that none of us could foresee.