“Is he the tall blond third who works with Menyard?”
“Worked. He had a girl who lived with her older sister and her husband near the Sud Bridge. He went to see her last night. When he got out of the hack, someone shot him. He died right there.”
“No shields . . . then.”
Martyl shook his head. “Most of the imagers who do equipment work and design can do detail imaging, but they don’t manage shields well. And . . . Reynol, he may be an expert with ledgers, but he wouldn’t know a shield if he ran into it.”
“Are field imagers and security imagers the only ones who can handle shields?”
“We’re not the only ones, but we’re most of the ones who can.”
Although I’d suspected the answer before I’d asked the question, I was glad for the confirmation. “It seems to me that we’ve lost a lot of junior imagers this year.”
Martyl nodded, then swallowed, and took a sip of wine before replying. “That’s what Baratyn said. Usually, most of the ones who die get killed by their own mistakes, and that’s maybe three or four in a whole year.”
If I’d counted right, four had been shot since I’d been at the Collegium, five if I counted the attempts on me. But then, I wondered about those killed by “mistakes.” I’d seen three of those in half a year, and those were the ones I knew about. The more I saw, the more I realized what I wasn’t seeing. “We’ve had something like two or three attempted attacks here every week. Is that usual?”
“That’s about right.”
Two or three a week-and the Council was in session, on and off, for thirty weeks out of fifty That was between sixty and ninety attempted assassinations of councilors a year. Was Solidar that hated?
“You’d think that they’d learn, but it keeps happening.” Martyl shook his head. “Some of them are local, too. They think there are too many High Holders on the Council or too few guild representatives, or like that Madame D’Shendael, they think that there ought to be councilors elected directly by the people. Can you imagine where that would lead?”
I could.
When we finished eating we had to hurry back up to the main level to relieve Baratyn and Dartazn.
58
Do not concentrate on sums when nothing adds up.
For the rest of the week, little or nothing beyond the routine occurred at the Council Chateau. That did give me a chance to practice more in the way of observation skills. I did note that Baratyn flicked his eyes up for just a moment before he gave directions.
Nor did I hear anything from Master Dichartyn. In fact, at the morning exercise sessions, he scarcely even looked in my direction. In the running, he was just slightly slower than I was, but over three milles, it generally meant I finished a good fifty yards ahead of him.
Then, just before I left the Chateau on Vendrei, looking forward to a pleasant weekend, especially on Samedi, Baratyn handed me a message.
“It’s from Master Dichartyn.”
I opened the envelope and read the short message.
Under the single line was a spare “D.”
I had just enough time to get back to the Collegium and change into my grays and get across the quadrangle to the administration building before the bells in the anomen tower to the south began to strike.
Master Dichartyn was standing by the open window of his study and motioned for me to enter. I did close the door, but I didn’t sit down because he didn’t.
“We finally have that report on Madame Caliostrus.” Master Dichartyn looked both stern and weary at the same time. “She and her son Marcyl were killed back in early Avryl. She was staying with her sister. The sister and Caliostrus’s daughters had gone to market, and the husband was at work on the river. The boy and his mother had their throats cut. There wasn’t much of a struggle.”
“Thelal?”
Master Dichartyn’s smile could have been a shrug. “Most of the golds were missing from the strongbox.”
“She didn’t believe in banks. That was a sore point between her and Master Caliostrus.”
“The other thing is that I talked to the Civic Patrol again.” He shook his head. “Some of the wall stones around one of the windows in Caliostrus’s studio were blown out.”
“Paraffin and waxes won’t do that.”
“No, and that suggests some sort of explosive was involved. Thelal was an ironway laborer for a time. He was dismissed for small thefts.”
All that made a sort of sense. If Thelal had planted-or even just hidden-the explosives in the studio, waiting for the right time, I’d inadvertently committed his murder for him. “But . . . why would he hide explosives in the studio?”
“Where else could he put them? Most nights, he didn’t know where he’d be sleeping.”
“Then you think that Thelal doesn’t have anything to do with my shooting?”
Master Dichartyn frowned. “The patrollers don’t think so, but I don’t like coincidences. Every male in that household is either dead, or nearly so, in your case. The surviving daughters are more than a hundred milles away. Are you certain that you didn’t see something?”
“Once or twice, I overheard Madame Caliostrus mention things like ‘your worthless brother.’ She didn’t like him around at all, but I only saw him once or twice a year, I’d guess.”
“He knew you were there, then.”
“He had to. I was there more than ten years.”
“Please think about it, if you will . . . and try to be more observant. If you had been when you were a portraiturist . . .” He shook his head.
I couldn’t change the past. “Is there anything else, sir?”
“Should there be?”
I felt that there should be, but what, I couldn’t have said. “Not that I know, sir.”
“Rhennthyl . . . never mind. You can go.” He paused. “I’ll be gone for a few days.”
I left. Master Dichartyn was clearly worried about more than who had been shooting at me, because the circles under his eyes were deep and dark, but he didn’t want to say. Or didn’t dare.
Was that part of what I had to look forward to as a counterspy imager? I couldn’t say I was a counterspy yet. I was just a hidden security guard for the Council, but, if I ever wanted to be more, would I have to keep more and more secrets?
I decided to go look for Dartazn or Reynol. Martyl was going off Imagisle for a dinner with relatives, and Menyard had mentioned at breakfast that he was leaving for the weekend. He didn’t have to deal with Clovyl’s exercises and runs on Samedi morning.
59
When you finally’ think you understand things is most
