“…Always…speaks…well…” I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.
Seliora took my hand and held it while the hazy blackness crept up over me.
27
When I finally walked slowly out of the infirmary on Jeudi morning, gray smoke hung over all of L’Excelsis, and that was four days after the attacks. I was headed toward the administration building, thankfully only fifty yards away, to meet with Maitre Dyana before she convened the remaining senior imagers of the Collegium.
Just before I’d dressed, Seliora had told me that the imagers who specialized in construction had already begun repairs to our house. Apparently, ours was the only one that was merely damaged. Those of Maitre Poincaryt, Maitre Dyana, and Maitre Dichartyn had been totally destroyed, and no other dwelling had been touched, with the exception of the Collegium’s boat house on the east side of the river, which had also been destroyed. That bothered me, and it took me a while to realize why. Whoever had used the bombards had been very skilled, had great experience, and had clearly measured the distances from where the barges had been anchored-they had to have been anchored-to the masters’ dwellings. That required a very professional gun crew, and that meant Naval experience and careful advance planning.
I’d allowed a little extra time because I knew I wouldn’t be moving that quickly, and the outer anteroom was empty, except for Gherard, who was sitting at the desk. Both the door to the conference room, to the right, and the door to the Maitre’s study were open.
I nodded to Gherard.
“Good morning, Maitre,” he replied.
“I hope you’re holding up,” I said.
“Yes, sir.”
I stepped through the open doorway into the study, closed the door behind me, walked to the middle chair of the three facing the desk and eased into it. “Good morning, Maitre.”
Maitre Dyana was seated behind the desk in the study that had been Maitre Poincaryt’s for the entire time I’d been an imager-until now. I couldn’t see that much had changed in the study, but it was definitely hers, with a few small items here and there and touches of colors. Finesse had always been her emphasis. She had recovered-she was wearing a brilliant blue scarf to complement her imager grays-although I had the feeling that her iron gray hair was turning more toward white.
“Good morning, Rhenn, pleasantry though it is. I’m sorry you missed the memorial services, but at the time, no one knew how long it might be before you recovered. I’d hoped you might be able to say a few words.”
“I would have liked to. I owe them both more than I’ll ever be able to repay.”
“We never repay. We only pay for those who follow, and what you did saved others, just as what he did saved you.”
There was truth in that, but I would have liked to have acknowledged the debt publicly. Still…was that because…I almost shook my head. Master Dichartyn wouldn’t have cared about the public statements. In fact, he would have asked if I’d have wanted to speak to show my gratitude in order to prove something about myself. He would have been right, I suspected.
“You’ve been reading the newsheets, I presume?”
“I have.” What I’d read had confirmed my worst suspicions, what with explosions occurring all over Solidar, targeting grain facilities, ports and piers, and several main ironway bridges, including the one over the Aluse just north of Solis, which would delay and restrict the shipment of iron to the shipworks there. In the cities that had been receiving the stronger elveweed, riots had occurred in both taudis and non-taudis areas-with the exception of L’Excelsis, but L’Excelsis had suffered half a score of explosions. In Cloisera, the Jariolans had been pushed back fifty milles, and their coal fields were now under Ferran control. In Otelyrn, the Stakanaran army had seized a large section of western Tiempre.
“What is not in the news is that Suyrien was shot yesterday. The assassin fired a sniper’s rifle from a distance at his estate. The shooter was never observed. Suyrien may not recover, but if he does, he will not be in shape to act as head Councilor.”
“Hadn’t Suyrien just returned from visiting High Holder Ruelyr? I’d heard that Suyrien was less than pleased with something Ruelyr had done.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t know what it was, other than that Suyrien felt it wasn’t in keeping with the responsibilities of being a High Holder. I wondered, though, because Ruelyr holds the lands that include some of northern part of the Sud Swamp, and that might be an ideal location for growing the stronger elveweed.” I watched Dyana closely as I finished.
She nodded slowly. “That is useful information, of which I was unaware. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Another problem is that Caartyl is acting as head of the Executive Council in place of Suyrien. That will not last, one way or the other. Caartyl claimed the post because Glendyl had to go to Ferravyl to deal with difficulties in obtaining iron for his rolling mills.”
“How does he stand on the blockade?”
“Caartyl supports it. He and the guilds don’t like the Ferrans any more than the Jariolans. He’s said that the factors of Solidar would prefer to replace all the guild members with steam-powered factorages manned by low- paid laborers.”
There was something about that…but I couldn’t grasp it.
“The High Holders have already selected Fhernon to fill Suyrien’s Council seat,” Dyana continued. “They’re petitioning the High Judiciary to have Councilor Ramsael take Suyrien’s position as head of the Executive Council. They claim that Caartyl was not selected in a formal Council session. To complicate matters more, several factors’ associations are petitioning to have the High Holders’ petition set aside until the next formal meeting of the Council, which is not scheduled until the eighteenth of Ianus.”
That was more than a month away. “They haven’t decided to meet formally any sooner?”
“That can only be decided by either the full Council or the unanimous vote of the Executive Council.”
I should have remembered that, but it had been several years since I’d last studied the Council’s parliamentary procedures. “I can’t say I’m surprised.” My greatest concern was that matters would get worse, especially without the moderating influence exerted by Maitre Poincaryt. No matter how capable and knowledgeable Maitre Dyana was, even as Maitre of the Collegium, the fact that she was a woman would weigh against her, particularly in dealing with High Holders. She certainly had the knowledge and understanding, because she’d come from a High Holder family, and she was a powerful imager; but she might have to use far more force, or the hidden threat of it, on the Councilors. I only knew that Ramsael was Alynkya’s father and had been slightly patronizing to me years before. Fhernon had commissioned several pieces from NordEste Design and had behaved with dignity and restraint, but that didn’t really tell me much about him.
“We won’t take an official position on any of those issues, except that the Justiciary rule quickly on the law itself. You present another problem. There is no way you can return to being a Civic Patrol captain and take on the duties before you here at the Collegium.”
“You don’t have to announce that immediately. Tell Commander Artois that I’m needed here for the time being, given the destruction and deaths here, and that in the interests of the Civic Patrol, Alsoran should act in my stead. Artois already has two lieutenants doing that for dead captains. I’m nowhere close to dead.”
“Why do you suggest that?”
“To keep Cydarth from replacing Alsoran. If they think I’m coming back, and even if they don’t, it will make that harder. Alsoran looks easygoing, but he’ll do what’s right. I can make it harder for them by dropping in to see Alsoran once. It doesn’t have to be for long.”
“That seems reasonable, and it will support Artois. Just don’t trot out there until you have full shields and full control.” Dyana nodded. “Aelys has already removed all of her husband’s personal items from Dichartyn’s study in the administration building, and it is ready for your immediate use. I suggest you settle in there as soon as possible.”
