“Yes, sir.”
“I need a few moments of your time.” The messenger study was empty, and I gestured for Dartazn to follow me in there. I couldn’t close the door, because there wasn’t one, only an archway onto the main corridor.
“Yes, sir?”
“Maitre Dyana and I need someone for a special assignment. Both of us thought you’d be good in it, and I’ve already talked to Baratyn. He agrees.”
“What sort of assignment?”
“Taking charge of a group of younger imagers involved in a larger task.”
Dartazn nodded slowly. “The way you put that, sir, suggests there is a certain amount of danger involved.”
“Yes, although part of that will depend on the skill of whoever takes the assignment.”
“Can you tell me more?”
“I’d prefer not to, not outside the Collegium. If you’re interested, we can go back to the Collegium. I can tell you more there.”
He nodded. “Am I the first or the last junior master you’ve approached?”
“The only one. I’d rather not have to approach any others.”
At that, he smiled wryly, an expression that also held a certain boyish charm, for all that he was slightly older than I. “I think I’d like to try.”
“Then we should depart. I have a duty coach waiting.”
He gathered his cloak, and we left the Council Chateau.
Once we were in the duty coach, I began to explain, beginning with the Ferran and Stakanaran efforts to undermine Solidar itself and then telling him about the problems with the Solidaran fleet. That was as far as I got by the time we got out of the coach, but that was enough for Dartazn to commit to the position. For the next four glasses, with one glass out for the midday meal, I went over the plan, what I expected of him, and answered his questions as well as I could. The one question he didn’t ask was why I wasn’t doing what I was asking him to do.
That alone suggested he was the right imager for the task.
Then we found another duty coach, and on the trip northward, I filled him in on what he needed to know about the Naval Command. The only thing I told him about Geuffryt was that the Assistant Sea-Marshal was the intelligence head and to be politely avoided where possible and treated with great civility otherwise, and that any request for information was to be handled by saying, “You’ll have to ask Marshal Valeun or Maitre Rhennthytl about that, sir.”
Dartazn smiled at those instructions.
The duty coach arrived at the Naval Command building almost exactly at two quints past four. By the time we’d been escorted up to Marshal Valeun’s study, it was half past the glass.
The senior ranker in the anteroom stood and opened the door to Valeun’s study, without a word, although his eyes lingered on Dartazn for a moment. The door closed behind us.
Valeun stood behind his desk. “Maitres.”
“Sea-Marshall Valeun, I’d like to present Maitre Dartazn. He is the master who will be directly in charge of the imagers and who will be with the fleet to coordinate our part of the operation.”
“I had thought you might be undertaking that task, Maitre Rhennthyl.”
“Alas, like you, Marshal, I’ve been tasked with overseeing a number of Collegium efforts, and the Maitre of the Collegium felt the master imager on the fleet level should be devoted to the operation and to nothing else.”
Valeun studied Dartazn, then nodded. “Welcome aboard, Master Dartazn.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“We have much to discuss.” Valeun gestured toward the chairs before his expansive desk, then seated himself.
I took the seat to the side, letting Dartazn sit directly facing Valeun.
“We will have a fast frigate waiting at Westisle by Jeudi, the thirty-third of Finitas, suitable for transport, but she does not have sufficient lead-lined spaces.”
I glanced to Dartazn.
“We will supply lead foil-both for the frigate, and for a number of the fast gunboats,” replied Dartazn.
“The frigate will join a replacement flotilla that will be leaving shortly from Solis…”
From there we got into detail after detail, and it was more than a glass later before we finally left the Naval Bureau. I’d had to talk more than I’d hoped to, but less than might have been. With Valeun, it was hard to tell, but I got the sense that he’d be more than happy to deal with Dartazn, rather than me. He also didn’t mention Geuffryt, and that was just fine with me.
I still wanted to resolve the issues dealing with the Civic Patrol, and the possible involvement of the Banque D’Ouestan with the Ferrans, not to mention the very loose ends dealing with Caartyl and Cydarth; but those would have to wait until we had the imagers packed up and on their way to Westisle.
49
When I woke early on Jeudi, four digits of snow covered the ground, and it was falling so thickly and quickly that I couldn’t see the wall that surrounded our courtyard. I went downstairs in my nightclothes and loaded more coal in the stoves, then washed my hands in the kitchen and slipped into bed next to Seliora.
“You’re not going to NordEste today…”
“I’m not?” she said sleepily.
“Not unless you want to walk four milles though snow…”
Not that we had that long together before Diestrya joined us and I finally got up.
After breakfast, I still trudged through the snow to the infirmary to check with Draffyd on Glendyl. I had to wait a bit.
“Have you been here long?” he asked as he stepped out of one the surgical rooms.
“Not really long.”
He gestured toward the room he just left. “One of the dining hall workers slipped on the snow and fell. She hit her arm on one of the stone walls outside the hall and broke it.” He paused. “What can I do for you?”
“Is Glendyl still here?”
“I’d thought to let him leave today, but with this weather…”
“That makes it easier for me to talk to him.”
“He’s not happy with you, or the Collegium.”
“He’d have lost even more if I hadn’t gone to Ferravyl when I did.”
“He doesn’t think so.”
“Has he said anything to you?”
“Besides complain about everything here in the infirmary? Not much. He hasn’t said a word about you or Maitre Dyana, or the Ferrans, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I grinned. “I was.”
“He’s in the same chamber.”
“Thank you.” I nodded and walked down the corridor and into the Councilor’s room. The walls were the same gray, but Glendyl had obviously sent for items to make his stay more comfortable. He was seated in an armchair that certainly wasn’t from the Collegium, and he wore a silken dressing gown. He set down a file of papers and looked at me, but did not speak.
“Good morning, Councilor.”
“What’s good about it? It’s snowing, and I can’t leave. My works are falling apart as we speak, and there’s nothing I can do about it while I’m stuck here.”
“Well…you are alive, and you might not be.”
“And I may be ruined because of you.”
