enough.
When we reached the dark wooden door on the southwest corner, Baratyn rapped on it smartly. “Councilor, it’s Baratyn. Maitre Rhennthyl is here from the Collegium to see you.”
There was a long silence from the other side of the door before Glendyl replied, “Do have him come in.”
I opened the door and stepped into the corner study, with windows on both the south and west outside walls. At first glance, standing beside the wide writing desk, Glendyl was totally unremarkable. He was of medium height, with thinning black hair and pale green eyes. A second glance revealed the hardness of the eyes and the set to a more than rugged jaw.
As I stepped forward, for a moment, I felt cooler air, as if Glendyl had opened one of his study windows for a moment, then closed it. Behind me, Baratyn shut the door quietly as he left.
“Good morning, Councilor,” I offered pleasantly.
“Good morning. I understand you’ve taken over Maitre Dichartyn’s position. I always thought you’d go far, Maitre Rhennthyl, even when you were first here. Something about you, I suppose. If you hadn’t turned out to be an imager…” He shook his head. “Guildmaster Reayalt said you could have been one of the great portraiturists, and your sister may well become the most noted factoria of our time.” He smiled, but did not sit or gesture toward the chairs before his desk. “What can I do for you today?”
“I thought it might be a good idea for us to talk, Councilor. There are several matters at hand. I’d like your observations about the Naval Command’s use of Council funds for its operations and administration…”
“The way you phrased that, Maitre Rhennthyl, suggests that you already know my concerns about the administrative structure of the Naval Command. The purpose of a navy is to control the oceans and to make them safe for our merchanters. That doesn’t require that every new vessel be bigger than its predecessor. It does require determining how many of what kind of vessels are necessary and building and operating those. Golds spent for purposes other than building, equipping, and operating those ships should be kept to an absolute minimum. Every factor knows that. That’s why there are few studies for supervisors in my manufactories. Supervisors should be supervising, or checking accounts, or making certain that materials are ordered and used in a timely fashion. None of those activities require large or luxurious studies or conference rooms. Nor elaborate dining facilities. Nor assistants to the assistants of senior supervisors.” He raised his thick trimmed eyebrows. “I note that the Collegium has operated effectively for centuries without separate dining facilities for masters and without coaches and transport reserved for specific masters.”
I smiled. “That’s very true.”
“Need I say more?”
“Do you think matters have gotten worse…recently?”
“I would scarce say that they’re better.”
I nodded.
“What else did you wish to discuss?”
“The more I’ve looked into Ferran activities here in Solidar, the more I seem to be finding all too many… shall we say…oddities.”
“Everything associated with the Ferrans is odd to people in Solidar. Most here don’t think in the same way they do.”
“You’ve obviously thought about it, Councilor.”
“It’s time for a brisk walk, Maitre Rhennthyl.” His right eye twitched, more than I recalled from my time in security at the Council Chateau. “Just around the Chateau grounds. Would you care to join me?”
“I’d be pleased.” What ever Glendyl wanted to say, he didn’t want anyone overhearing. While the listening tubes did not go to any Councilor’s study, it was clear Glendyl wasn’t counting on that.
He pulled on a heavy black wool cloak and moved toward the door. I opened it and stepped out into the corridor, leaving it for him to close.
I said nothing until we neared the steps, when I asked, “How did you get started in the business of making engines and locomotives?”
“My father made pumps for the mines, but the engines were terrible. There was this artisan who made a different engine. It worked well, but it was too expensive and took too long to build. I worked with him to build a better and cheaper steam engine. Since I had the rights, I applied the same idea to everything that I could.” He chuckled.
“You make it sound very easy and simple,” I replied. “I doubt that it was either.” My eyes passed over the twin statues of angelias at the base of the steps, and I couldn’t help thinking of Father.
“Good ideas are always simple. Making them work is the hard part. That’s like the Council. More than a few Councilors have ideas they think are good, but half the time they don’t think about the implications and effects for everyone else.” He paused, resting his hand on the curve of the balustrade, before marching toward the main foyer and the outer doors on the south side of the Chateau. “Your sister is hard-working and very practical. I’d rather have her on the Council than half the Councilors now serving, who think that everything should stay the way it’s always been. Things never stay the same. If Rex Charyn hadn’t had enough sense to see that the time of single hereditary rulers was past, why, we’d be in the same pickle as the Jariolans. He saw that trade was what counted, not lands and who could raise an army with bows and blades. Now and in the years ahead, engines and machines will count more than artisans and craft or trade in raw materials. Too many in Solidar don’t see that.”
“Or that the Council needs to reflect that change?”
“It’d be best if the Council led that change. It won’t. We’ll be fortunate if the Council even reflects that change in a generation. By then it may be too late. We’ll be buying goods from Ferrum, getting poorer by the year and wondering what happened.” He snorted as he walked through the central archway and toward the stone steps, angling his path toward the east gardens.
“The idea of change doesn’t come easily,” I pointed out. “The thought of women on the Council upsets more than a few.”
“That’s because they think of women like Madame D’Shendael, who is charming and writes and speaks well and never met a payroll or a production or delivery deadline. Give me a woman like your sister-”
At that moment, as we were halfway down the main south steps, I heard the faintest
Instinctively, I imaged caustic back along the path the bullet had taken, even as I grabbed Glendyl. I didn’t want any more shots coming our way. Then after easing the Councilor onto a wide stone step and quickly studying the position of his wound, I imaged what I hoped was a block around the return vein to the heart.
Nearly instantly, the spread of blood stopped…mostly. For a moment, I wondered if that was because I’d killed Glendyl. But he was still breathing, and I could feel a pulse.
“Not supposed to happen,” mumbled the Councilor. “…Not that way.” His eyes fluttered and closed. He was still breathing.
What wasn’t supposed to happen that way? Had Glendyl taken me for a walk to get me shot? He should have known better than that, and, besides, I hadn’t felt a thing. If a bullet had been aimed at me and had struck my shields, I certainly would have felt it.
I heard boots on stone and glanced up.
Dartazn sprinted down the side steps. “Rhenn! What happened?”
“Someone shot the Councilor. I think I’ve stopped the worst of the bleeding, and I’ve got shields around us both. But we’ll need Maitre Draffyd as soon as possible. Use my duty coach! It’s by the security gate. If you can, tell Baratyn to get someone to look across the square, in the garden in front and to the side of the Hall of Justice.”
“Yes, sir!” He was off, and for once I was very glad of those long legs.
Glendyl’s eyes fluttered, then closed again, but he was still breathing, and only a little blood was seeping from the wound. I could only hope I’d done the chest imaging right. It seemed like the oozing blood was from the muscles in his chest.
Before long, two obdurate guards in their dark uniforms appeared, and stationed themselves on each side of us.
Even so, it was half a glass before Draffyd appeared, slipped in beside me.
“What did you do?”
