or other lands. There will be copies in the messengers’ study on Lundi. Copies go to the newsheets, too,” added Martyl.
“Most of it’s pretty dull, and even the exciting stuff sounds dull the way they report it,” said Dartazn.
When we stepped out of the coach at the Collegium, another prime was waiting. “Tertius Rhennthyl?” His voice quavered slightly.
“Yes?”
“Master Dichartyn would like to see you immediately, before you go to dinner.”
“Lucky you,” murmured Dartazn. But he did grin.
I walked quickly across the quadrangle, ignoring the looks from several primes and seconds, and made my way to Master Dichartyn’s study. The door was closed, but when I knocked, he opened it immediately and ushered me in.
I did sit down. I’d been on my feet most of the day.
Master Dichartyn did not. He stood by the open window in the light breeze that didn’t seem to cool the late- afternoon air at all. “Rhennthyl, we have several matters to discuss. First, how often did the councilors have you leave when you escorted a petitioner to their study?”
I had to think for a moment. “There’s only been one time so far.”
“What does that tell you?” His words were slightly sardonic.
“Their minds are already made up, and any considerations they might entertain have already been determined or will be somewhere besides the Chateau.”
“Did any petitioner state anything you thought would have been of value to Solidar?”
“One furniture maker pointed out that the embargo on rare timbers from Caenen did not make much sense because the value of the logs was low and the value added in furniture-making here in Solidar was much higher.”
“That’s probably true, but embargoes are not just about value. They’re also tools to allow our ships to board or even attack suspect merchanters . . . among other things. Were there any conversations that puzzled you?”
“There was one today. A factor named Alhazyr visited Caartyl and left a proposal. Both talked in generalities. . . .” I went on to explain, ending with, “. . . suddenly, they talked about the worthlessness of the trade embargo against Caenen, and then Caartyl dismissed Alhazyr.”
“Hmmm . . . I would have thought he’d have gone to see Haestyr. We’ll have to keep watch on that. I’ll have to talk to Baratyn about it.”
“About what, if I might ask, sir?”
“When politicians and factors congratulate each other on their principles, almost anything but principles are involved. Just keep your eyes open, and you’ll see in time.”
That didn’t answer my question, but that was Master Dichartyn’s way of indicating that he wouldn’t.
“More interestingly, your inquiries last Samedi stirred up something.”
“Sir?”
“The civic patrollers located Thelal. There was a brawl at Antipodes on Lundi night. Someone knifed him. He was dead when the patrollers got there. Even more intriguing is the fact that Emanus died in his sleep the same night of the day you visited him.”
“That couldn’t be natural.”
“It could be,” replied Master Dichartyn, “but it’s rather unlikely.”
“Could it have been another imager from somewhere else?”
“It’s very possible. If so, he must be very accomplished, and in the pay of, and probably attached to, some foreign embassy.”
I didn’t follow that logic at first, until I thought about it.
“What will you be doing on Samedi?” asked the head of security.
“I was going to have dinner with my family-a belated birthday dinner.”
“What time were you planning on leaving?”
“Not until about fourth glass.”
Master Dichartyn nodded. “I’d like you to depart earlier, say about third glass. You’ll walk across the Bridge of Hopes and up the Boulevard D’Imagers on the south side. You will be holding full shields. Someone will be following whoever’s following you.”
“What if someone isn’t?”
“Count yourself fortunate, but there will be. There couldn’t be two deaths and someone following you last week without someone being there this week.”
While I had my own ideas about what was happening, I wanted to see what Master Dichartyn might say. “Do you have any idea why all this is happening?”
“I have several. It could be that someone happened upon something and wants to link Caliostrus’s death to the Collegium. Or it could be that you were simply one of the imagers targeted by whoever is trying to kill imagers, and it’s a matter of pride. . . .” He shrugged.
“What about High Holder Ryel?”
“We can’t rule him out, but High Holders are usually more subtle and more vicious.”
I could hardly wait. People had tried to kill me already, and others were following me, and the only man I’d talked to who’d given me any useful information was dead-and the High Holder wasn’t even involved yet?
“I assume you don’t want me to talk to anyone else until after Samedi.”
“That would be best.” He gestured toward the door. “You need to change before dinner.”
As I hurried back to my quarters to change into imager grays, questions swarmed through my mind, and at the moment, I had answers for none of them.
54
Violence is everywhere, but most will see only that
which they must.
Vendrei was slower than Jeudi, with only a handful of visitors and petitioners for the councilors. Whoever was not on corridor patrol handled those few. Even so, I found time dragged when the corridors were empty more often than not. We were all pleased when we returned to the Collegium late on Vendrei afternoon.
The brightest spot of the day was a short note from Seliora that was waiting in my letter box when I checked just before dinner. She apologized for being so late in replying, but explained that her grandmama had insisted they leave Pointe Neimon early in order to stop by another textile manufactory, this one in Kephria, and Seliora had found no place to post a letter until she had returned to L’Excelsis. She also wrote that she looked forward to seeing me on Solayi and that she hoped I could come at the first glass of the afternoon.
I couldn’t help smiling at that.
When I finally climbed into my bed on Vendrei night, I was still smiling, thinking of Solayi. That was before I realized I still had to get up early the next morning for Clovyl’s exercise session, and then be at my studio to work on Master Poincaryt’s portrait.
I did manage to make it to the exercise area on Samedi morning-and not be the last. Dartazn was. One good thing was that it was far cooler that early. I tried not to think about what that might mean in winter. Of course, Dartazn outran us all again.
After showering and dressing in my grays, I had breakfast and hurried out to the workroom studio, where I set up the canvas and materials. Then I began to sketch designs. I should have done that earlier, but there never seemed to be enough time. The second one seemed to fit, with the chair angled slightly, and Master Poincaryt looking not quite forward. I’d decided to make the background indistinct, both for practical and symbolic reasons. Just before the bells began to ring, he walked into the studio and sat down. I could see immediately I’d need to
