Imager's challenge

53

After a quiet dinner in the hall on Lundi night, with Chassendri, Isola, and Ferlyn, none of whom pressed me, I walked back to my room. I was ready to sit down and relax when I realized that I had to work out what I was going to say at Rousel’s memorial service. I couldn’t count on having much time for the rest of the week, because I’d said I’d stop by the house on Mardi after my Patrol duties, and I had no idea how long the hearing might take. While it began on Meredi, it could easily drag into Jeudi morning.

So I sat down at my writing desk and began to struggle to put words on paper. When I finally gave up close to ninth glass, I had perhaps a sheet and a half of disjointed comments. How could I say what I felt? I loved Rousel, and yet, all through my life, he’d subtly and not-so-subtly belittled me. I’d found the woman he’d loved and who had loved him, and while she had thanked me often for that, I wasn’t sure he ever had. Father had accepted Rousel’s faults and trumpeted mine, and yet, in the end, Rousel was dead because of my acts, no matter that I’d never ever meant for it to come to that-and it shouldn’t have. But it had. All that I really could do was to praise his good points and the fact that he had brightened the lives of many.

Was that enough? It would have to be, I suspected.

With that on my mind, I didn’t sleep all that well, and I wondered, when I pulled myself from bed in the darkness on Mardi morning, if that would be the case more and more in the years ahead. I’d seen the dark circles under Master Dichartyn’s eyes all too often. Was that inevitably part of being a master imager?

Once more, there was a thick frost on the grass and stone walks as I made my way to morning exercises. The exercises and run did help clear my mind, and after I showered and shaved, I dressed and made it to breakfast early enough that only Chassendri was at the masters’ table. I joined her.

“You’re here even earlier than usual,” she offered.

“Another day with the Navy conscription team.”

“Are they as brutal as people claim?”

“They’re tough, and they don’t hesitate to use force. I haven’t seen any permanent injuries so far, and I haven’t seen force used except against elvers and resisters, but nothing severe.” I paused to pour my tea. “On that first day, though, the colonel would have ridden down people who weren’t resisting, just chanting slogans. I have the feeling that they can get nasty when their authority is challenged.”

“So you’re keeping them in line.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would. By being there as a representative of the Collegium who can bring matters directly before the Council, you’ve cooled matters off. No one will tell you that, but I’d wager that’s the way it is.”

“I’m the most junior master in the Collegium,” I protested.

“I hate to tell you this, Rhenn, but you don’t look like or act like the most junior master, except maybe around Maitre Dichartyn and Maitre Dyana.”

I didn’t know how to answer that. So I served myself the egg toast and poured berry syrup over it.

“I notice you’re not saying anything to that.” She grinned.

“What could I say? I don’t know how my appearance or acts look to others.”

“Trust me. When you think you’re right, you project an assurance that’s overpowering. Tell me. Do you have trouble with women? I shouldn’t think that you would, and the rumor is that the young lady you’ve been escorting is gorgeous.”

That question left me speechless.

Chassendri laughed. “It’s good to see you blush. You’re not so formidable that way. Are you going to answer me?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only been interested, really interested, in two women. The first married my brother, and Seliora is the second.” As I spoke Seliora’s name, I realized that I’d never mentioned it to any of the other masters.

“Seliora . . . that’s an old Pharsi name, isn’t it?”

“She’s Pharsi.”

Chassendri nodded. “That would figure.”

“Why?”

“She’d be one of the few to stand up to you, and you’ve been wise enough without knowing it to pick women like that. Was the first Pharsi?”

“Yes.” I shook my head.

She smiled again. “I’m too old for you, but even if I weren’t, the only way I’d have you would be as a friend.”

“You think you know me?”

She laughed. “You’re unpredictable, and no one really knows you, except maybe your Seliora. That’s what worries the senior maitres. I’d wager that all of them will heave large sighs of relief if you marry her, or someone like her.”

“I’m unpredictable?” I found that hard to believe.

She shook her head. “I’m certain that you believe that everything you do is perfectly predictable. It probably is, to you, or to someone who thinks like you do. But for the rest of the Collegium . . .”

I didn’t say anything.

“It’s not what you feel,” she finally said. “It’s what you do about what you feel. That’s what has Maitre Dichartyn and Maitre Poincaryt concerned.”

I still wasn’t sure what to say. So I shrugged.

Chassendri didn’t pursue it. She just asked, “Do you think we’ll have an early winter?”

“I’m beginning to think so. We’ve had more and colder frosts this year. . . .”

After breakfast, on my way across the quadrangle to the duty coach, I couldn’t help thinking about what Chassendri had said. Was she right? Was I that unpredictable? I didn’t think I was at all unpredictable. I just tried to resolve the problems I faced as well as I could.

Was that the problem, that often the Collegium really didn’t want any real resolution, or not one that upset the established ways? Even though I pondered those questions on the ride across L’Excelsis, I still had no real answers by the time the coach came to a halt outside Third District station.

When I walked inside, I saw Captain Harraf standing by his study door. A quick gesture made it clear that he’d been waiting for me. I walked into his study, but didn’t close the door.

Nor did he ask me to, instead inquiring sardonically, “Might I ask exactly how you managed all this? I’ve never seen a conscription team so well behaved. They’re even letting the patrollers do their rounds.”

“I doubt I had much to do with that, sir. They lost something like a hundred marines. It could be that someone in charge decided that it might work better if they were polite.”

“And your Collegium had nothing to do with it?”

“No, sir. Not in the slightest. Except for my presence.” I wasn’t about to mention that the Collegium wasn’t exactly pleased with my actions.

“Or could it be that the taudis-dwellers are being more cooperative? How did you manage that?”

“The only thing we did was capture Saelyhd-”

“That’s something else, Master Rhennthyl. You knew he was Youdh’s successor before anyone.”

I shrugged. “When I persuaded Horazt to help me, he told me that Saelyhd had taken over.”

“I can understand that, but no one has ever been able to get anyone in the taudis to cooperate before, let alone a taudischef.”

I smiled wryly, although I had my doubts, since Harraf had had some sort of arrangement with Youdh. “No one else has had the favorite nephew of a taudischef as a junior imager on Imagisle.”

“Those taudischefs have been known to kill nephews and cousins.” Harraf imbued the words with great skepticism.

“He says the boy is his nephew. I suspect the boy is his son. Either way, he had to talk to me, and that allowed me to persuade him to help.”

“You’re going with the team today?”

“Yes, sir. I can’t tomorrow because I have to be a witness at the hearing for the Tiempran priests and Saelyhd. But I only promised the major yesterday. And I won’t be here on Jeudi because I’ll be at the memorial service for my brother. He died in a wagon accident in Kherseilles last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your brother, but going to his service shouldn’t be a problem. The marines should be finished by Meredi . . . in Third District, that is.”

I hoped so. “I’d better find the team chief. They’re starting on Dugalle.”

Harraf nodded.

I inclined my head in return and headed out.

Mardi wasn’t an exact repeat of Lundi because the area the conscription team covered took in some of Youdh’s old area and all of Horazt’s, and there were more elvers and vagrants along Youdh’s streets, but the procedures and results were similar.

The team finished at half past fourth glass. Once I left the chief, I didn’t return to the station, but walked out to the Midroad and hailed a hack to my parents’. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing Remaya.

I was still wrestling with “what ifs” when the hacker pulled up before the front walk to the house. I paid him, then started up the walk. My breath steamed in the air that had gotten progressively colder as the day had passed, and I wondered if we might get snow, although the sky remained clear.

Nellica had already left for the day, and Remaya opened the door, then stepped back to let me in. “Rhenn . . . Khethila said you’d be here this afternoon. Will you be staying for dinner?”

“Tonight, I can do that. Tomorrow, probably not. I have to be a witness at a justice hearing, the one involving the Tiempran priests who blew up their Temple in the South Middle taudis.”

We walked into the family parlor where Mother was rocking Rheityr. She looked up. “I thought that might be you. We’re having roasted lamb.”

“That’s something I miss.”

“We thought so.”

I looked down at the dozing infant. Already, he looked more like his father than his mother. I swallowed, and I found my eyes burning. If I had said anything at that moment, I would have choked on the words. So I turned and sat in the armchair across from Father’s.

“It shouldn’t be that long before your father and Khethila are home,” Mother said.

“Culthyn?” I asked.

“He’s upstairs doing schoolwork. He had much to catch up on. He’s less than pleased.”

That sounded like Culthyn.

“How was your day, Rhenn?” asked Remaya.

“I had to spend it with one of the conscription teams. They didn’t have too many problems, except for vagrants and elvers, and one or two resisters.”

“If I were facing conscription,” Remaya said, “I might resist.”

“You only have to have a job, or be an apprentice, not to be conscripted.”

“That’s what the law says. Do you really think the teams that don’t have an imager with them are that scrupulous?”

“I don’t know. I’d hope so.”

“More than a few Pharsi boys with jobs ended up on ships,” Remaya said. “I knew some of them.”

I couldn’t argue with that and didn’t have to because I saw Charlsyn driving the coach under the side portico. “They’re home.” I stood and walked to the side door.

In moments, Khethila burst into the parlor and gave me a hug, which felt good. “I’m glad you could come.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” And I was, but I did step back.

“I’ll need to get the wine,” she murmured as she moved toward the kitchen.

Father stepped into the parlor and asked, “How is my grandson?”

“He’s sleeping,” Mother replied, “and he won’t be for long if you keep bellowing.”

A faint smile crossed Remaya’s lips.

Father dropped into his armchair with a heavy sigh.

No one said anything for a time, until Khethila carried a tray into the parlor, with a goblet of Dhuensa for Father, tea for Remaya, and hot mulled wine for me, Mother, and Khethila herself. Mother nodded to Remaya, then eased Rheityr out of her own arms and back to Remaya, who settled onto the settee. Rheityr remained sleeping, which was a wonder to me.

“Dinner won’t be long,” Mother said in a quiet voice, slipping off to the kitchen.

As long as I didn’t look at Rheityr too often, I thought I could get through dinner without revealing all the Namer-demons that plagued me. Before all that long we were gathered around the table, where Father said grace, and then we all sat down to crisp roasted lamb and rice.

At one point, Khethila glanced over and said, “You’re quiet tonight, Rhenn.”

“The last weeks have been hard for everyone. I have to appear at the hearing tomorrow about the explosion of the Temple. With what happened to Rousel . . . and everything else . . .” I just shook my head.

Remaya nodded, and I wondered how much she knew-or guessed. She didn’t quite finish dinner with us because she had to leave to change Rheityr, and I begged off staying longer, pleading the press of the day ahead.

Mother did have Charlsyn stay late so that he could drive me back to Imagisle. I didn’t protest. When I opened my door there was an envelope slipped under it. Inside was a single note card with one line hastily written.

See me in morning right after breakfast.

Under that line was the initial D.

What other problems had surfaced? Had Master Dichartyn discovered Alynat’s death? Or did he just have last-moment instructions or information about the hearing. I hoped it was the latter, but feared it was the former. Sooner or later, Alynat’s death would come to his attention, but I preferred it be later, when everything was completed. Then, either I’d be successful . . . or dead.