“I put a block around the return vein. That’s all. I was afraid more would strain his heart.”
“Good. You did just enough.” Draffyd knelt beside the fallen Councilor. “His pulse is still all right. It’s not as good as I’d like, but there’s not that much blood. With some luck, we’ll pull him through.”
“Can I do anything else?”
“No.”
The curtness of his reply was a clear indication enough that I was superfluous now. I moved back. As I stood, I saw Baratyn standing a few yards away and walked toward him.
“Will he make it?”
“I don’t know, but Draffyd’s hopeful.”
“I thought Draffyd was the only medical imager.”
“He is, but I can do some things. Draffyd gave me some training.”
“For that, Glendyl ought to be grateful.” Baratyn shook his head. “He won’t be.”
I didn’t dispute that, but before I could have said more, a messenger hurried up.
“Maitres! Martyl’s found the shooter. He’s over there.” The messenger pointed southward to where Martyl stood, waving, by the wall in front of the low garden to the east of the promenade leading to the Hall of Justice.
“I need to look into that,” I told Baratyn, nodding before hurrying down the remaining steps and across the ring road to the front of the Justice gardens where Martyl stood waiting.
“He didn’t get very far, sir,” Martyl said. “What did you do?”
“Imaged caustic back along the track of the bullet.”
The security imager tilted his head, quizzically, then pointed. “He’s just behind the wall. He was alone. There’s only one set of boot-prints.”
The body was that of a muscular but slender man dressed in black garments under a tattered light brown cloak. His face, the part that wasn’t burned by the caustic, was contorted in agony. A long sniper’s rifle lay less than a yard away.
The only items in his wallet were coins, some eight golds, four silvers, and three coppers.
When we finished searching him, I straightened and looked at Martyl. “If you’d take care of the body.”
“Yes, sir.” He paused. “Do you think he’s another Ferran agent?”
“Most likely, but proving it might be difficult.” Since he was dead, we didn’t have to, and I took my leave of Martyl. I did have to take a hack, since Draffyd had doubtless used the duty coach to convey Glendyl to the infirmary.
When I returned to the Collegium, I gave Schorzat and Kahlasa a quick summary of what had happened and then went upstairs, glad that Maitre Dyana was in her study.
She motioned for me to close the door, not that she needed to, since I was already doing just that. I took the chair on the end, the one closest to her and the one not in the sunlight.
“I hear that someone shot Glendyl. How did that come about, and what, exactly, were you doing at the Council Chateau?”
“It came about because everything that I’ve discovered doesn’t make much sense, and I wanted to see Glendyl’s reaction. I also wanted him to see me. First, I asked him about his concerns about the Naval Command’s efficiency…” I went on to tell her exactly what had happened.
When I finished, she nodded slowly. “Glendyl thought you’d be the target, and he’d been assured that what ever weapon was used would penetrate your shields. But that was never their intention. What haven’t you told me about the shooter?”
“Under a tattered brown cloak, he was wearing the same black, light-absorbing clothes that the agents killed in Third District wore. Most likely all were Ferrans, and Glendyl had to have known something.”
“Even if that’s true, we can’t make a charge like that without proof.”
“I’m not charging anyone,” I pointed out. “I’m merely observing.”
“You can’t say a word about the implications involved there, not without actual proof.”
“I know.” I smiled. “But if Glendyl gets better, he won’t be able to avoid my questions, not since he’s in our infirmary. He should stay there until he’s better, don’t you think?”
“I would agree to that, but you can’t question him until Maitre Draffyd says he’s up to it.”
“Does this make Caartyl acting head of the Executive Council?”
“In theory. After what’s happened to Suyrien and Glendyl, he may not be so anxious.”
“If he is, that might say something.”
“He’s too politically astute to show enthusiasm,” Dyana replied.
“But it’s a month before the Council is scheduled to convene.”
“I’ve asked Maitre Rholyn to have Caartyl issue a call for a special meeting of the Council a week from today. Caartyl declined, unless the meeting could be two weeks from now.”
“The thirtieth?”
“I would have liked it to be earlier, but he felt that they couldn’t get a quorum with a week’s notice. The call should be on its way tonight.” Her eyes hardened. “None of this explains who was behind the bombardment of the Collegium. What else have you found out about that?”
“The barges didn’t come from this section of the river. We should know where they did come from in the next few days.”
“You aren’t telling me everything.”
“No, Maitre. I’m only telling you what I know and what I can reasonably suspect.”
“You still don’t do finesse as well as you should, Rhenn.”
“I probably never will, Maitre.”
She shook her head. “Let me know whenever you find out anything.”
I stood and made my way back to my study.
I was still trying to sort out matters when, at just after half past the second glass of the afternoon, Kahlasa and Schorzat appeared at my study door.
“Come in. You both look grim.”
They did, and Kahlasa closed the door. They sat down.
“We have a very good regional in Solis,” Schorzat said.
I concentrated to recall who the regional was, then nodded. “Eslyana. She’s even a Maitre D’Aspect. I take it that she sent some information on barges.”
Schorzat looked to Kahlasa.
She put several sheets on my desk. “Here’s her report. There are only three barges and a tug that can’t be accounted for. That’s of the ones large enough to carry the weight of a bombard. It’s not just the weight, but the deck and hold strength for that much weight concentrated in a single spot. They were leased from one Leavytt, a transport factor in Solis. They never returned. Leavytt put in a claim with L’Excelsis Indemnity. They’re still investigating, but…”
“They have a problem since someone blew up their main building here?” I suggested.
“No…” Kahlasa said slowly. “They’ll have to pay, but Eslyana managed to find out a bit more. The lease contract was forged. That is, it was a standard Naval Command contract. It was on the right paper and with the correct watermarks, and with the correct names and seals, and the signatures were also apparently by the right people-except they don’t match the real signatures. They’re close, unless you examine them carefully.”
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
“It’s a real contract, and all the formalities and procedures were perfect. Leavytt’s been through this for years. He did say that he didn’t recognize any of the crew who took the tug and barges, except for the tug captain. He’d seen him before, but he doesn’t recall the man’s name. Leavytt didn’t know the subcommander who handled it for the Naval Command, but the subcommander knew everyone. He even mentioned the last lease and the Commander who had handled it. He said that the Commander was his superior. The contract deposit cleared before they took possession of the tug and barges. It was a draft on the Banque D’Rivages for five thousand golds. Leavytt said lease drafts were usually drawn on the Banque D’Excelsis, but he’d had one or two over the years on the Banque D’Rivages.”
“Whoever leased the tug and barges had considerable background in setting up this sort of thing,” I said blandly.
