Imager

The laugh turned into a gentle smile. “It’s not. I worried horribly when you had to meet the family. I was laughing about your calling it the ‘silent inquisition.’ That is what mothers often do. So do sisters and cousins. I’ve done it to Odelia. Most men don’t notice, or they pretend not to.”

“Her previous escort?”

“He wasn’t suitable.”

“After what Grandmama Diestra just said, I’d hate to think what she’d have said . . .” I shook my head. “She wouldn’t have said anything, would she? I just wouldn’t have ever been able to get in touch with you, except by literally kidnapping you, would I? And that would have been anything but wise.”

“You understand more than you want to admit.” After a pause, Seliora added, “When do you think the examination over dinner will take place?”

“I’d guess that Mother will want it on the twenty-eighth. Samedis are about the only truly free night I have right now, and I’d be surprised if Father will be back by this coming weekend. Mother is in Solis visiting Aunt Ilena. I’ll have to write her about it, and she won’t get a letter before Mardi, and it might not be until later in the week . . .”

Seliora nodded. “You’ll let me know.”

“I will indeed.” The letter to my parents was one letter I wasn’t looking forward to writing in the slightest.

Seliora turned and faced me, looking solemn. Then her grin appeared. “Since we’ve been ordered to be honest, tell me what you like best about me.”

That was scarcely a trial. “I was stunned and bedazzled by the fact that you asked me to dance . . . and I still am. And what do you like about me?”

“That you could take the disappointment of leaving the guild and rebuild your life without self-pity . . .”

We spent more than a glass in that fashion, growing more serious as we talked, before I realized that I needed to go, a revelation hastened by several rolls of thunder from the approaching storm. Our parting was brief, if amorous, and I did manage to hail a hack and climb inside before raindrops began to splatter on the stone pavement of Nordroad.

I gave the hacker a three coppers extra, then hurried from the hack toward the bridge, with the rain pelting down around me. Along the way, I learned that even strong shields didn’t stop rain . . . or not much, and I wondered why. I’d have to experiment with that-but not dressed as I was.

61

Plaques held too close to the waistcoat can be so close

as not to be able to be played.

Once I returned from services at the Imagisle anomen on Solayi, I drafted and then re-drafted a letter to Mother. Then I wrote it once more and set it aside. On Lundi morning, after exercises and a run where I finished somewhat closer to Dartazn, I struggled back to my quarters, showered, shaved, and dressed. Then I read the letter a last time.

Dear Mother,

For some time now, you have been suggesting that I needed to find a young lady who was intelligent, congenial, and suitable. In view of your wisdom in this matter, I have quietly been pursuing that objective and believe I have discovered such a young woman. Inasmuch as you have suggested that you would like to have me and a suitable young lady of my choosing for dinner, I would like to ask if that invitation remains open for me and Mistress Seliora D’Shelim.

Rather than write too much about her, I will only say that she comes from a well-off and commercially successful family and is quite intelligent. She has a solid knowledge of the textile field and numerous manufacturers, and I believe you will find her most charming.

I signed, sealed, and addressed it, then tucked it into my uniform-we were allowed to wear the Council uniforms to breakfast-and headed to the dining hall. On the way into eat, I picked up one of the newsheets- Veritum-and scanned the lead story on the diplomatic communique sent from the High Priest of Caenen to the Council-and clearly leaked to the newsheet. Part of the quoted text read, “. . . we strive for a vision of Duality that is true to our faith but a vision that also encompasses peace and prosperity for all Terahnar . . .” The story also noted that the Caenenan forces near the border with Tiempre had “completed their training maneuvers” and were returning to their regular bases.

Another story near the bottom of the front side of the sheet reported on a series of explosions in near- abandoned dwellings in taudis in Nacliano near Estisle, Liantiago near Westisle, and a particularly large explosion in the “area known as the hellhole” near L’Excelsis. Civic patrollers found a number of bodies, as well as materials and weapons linked to a “certain foreign government.” The exact causes of the explosions were unknown, but thought to be the “accidental” detonation of unstable explosives.

At that moment, Dartazn gestured, and I joined him, Martyl, and Nansyar, a third I knew only by name and face.

“I see you were reading about the strange and wondrous events in the world.”

I nodded as I poured some tea. “The events in Caena were strange and wondrous, but not unexpected. I’d hope that the cost wasn’t another name on a plaque.”

“As do I,” added Martyl, “but that’s something we’ll just have to wait out.”

“What do you think about the taudis explosions?”

“Pure happenstance.” Dartazn’s words were edged with irony overlaid with gentle sarcasm. “What do you think?”

“About the same.”

Nansyar glanced from Dartazn to me, and then to Martyl. “I hate it when you covert types do that.”

“We all have our little secrets,” said Martyl, with a laugh. “You don’t tell us what goes on in the armory laboratories.”

After that, we talked about how the communique might affect the situation between Ferrum and Jariola. About all we agreed upon was that the cooling down in Otelyrn would allow the Navy to move most of its warships to the waters off Jariola and Ferrum. Then we took the duty coach to the Council Chateau, where I did post the letter, but where nothing unusual or of import occurred on Lundi . . . or Mardi.

On Meredi morning, though, right after we arrived, Baratyn gathered us together. He smiled, not unkindly, as he glanced at the three of us. “We are approaching the end of Agostos, and I imagine some of you know what that means.”

Dartazn nodded solemnly. Martyl showed no expression, and I just stood there, not having any idea what Baratyn meant.

“On the last Friday of Agostos, Vendrei, the thirty-fourth, is the annual Harvest Ball of the Council. You will be present, and in addition to keeping your eyes open and your abilities ready, you will be expected to dance, when necessary and if asked, or if you see a lady in an embarrassing situation and clearly needing a partner. This takes precedence over all other personal and professional engagements, unless directly mandated otherwise by Master Dichartyn. Is that clear? Good. Now for today. The Council will be debating the communique from Caenen, and the Executive Council has decreed that no visitors or petitioners will be received.”

After Baratyn dismissed us to our assignments, I turned to Dartazn. “Why is this ball on a Vendrei?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one to ask that. I did, two years ago. Master Dichartyn was not kind.” He smiled. “It was originally a function only for High Holders, and having it on Vendrei made the point that the common working and trade types could not have attended even if they so wished.”