“You are not making matters much easier, Rhennthyl.”
“Maitre Poincaryt told me that lures don’t have to be defenseless, and too many junior imagers have already died.”
“He said that to you?”
“Yes, sir-about the lures, that is.”
“Even so, you’re asking me to take a great deal on faith.”
I just looked at him, again, for a long moment, before replying, “If I might say so, sir, far, far less than you have asked me to take on faith and without full knowledge. If I had known more, I might have been able to act in a . . . less messy fashion. Besides, Envoy Vhillar tripped on the steps and split his skull. Most regrettable, but accidents do happen, and there was no poison involved . . .” I was so tired I wanted to yawn, but I was afraid of just how much that might hurt.
“Then what would you suggest the Council do with regard to Ferrum to explain the death of their envoy?”
“Send a very polite sealed communique to the head of their government”-I was so dizzy I couldn’t remember the official title-“telling them that the Council deeply regrets the accident, and that for the sake of everyone involved, it should remain that way, unless, of course, Ferrum would like it known that their envoy was an imager, which would raise the question of how many others might be.”
“You have a very nasty mind. They could still deny it.”
“Send a letter from Master Poincaryt saying that one of the functions of the Collegium is to keep renegade imagers out of Solidar, and that who else would better know who was an imager. Besides, even the charge would create problems for them. People half-expect it from Solidar, I’m sure. So any countercharge shouldn’t affect us much.” I looked at him. “You should have thought of all that. Or did you?”
“I did, mostly, but I wanted to see if you were really as devious as Master Poincaryt thinks.”
“Am I?” That bothered me.
“No. You’re worse, because you have the ability to incorporate more of the truth in what you do.”
I closed my eyes, then opened them.
“Rhennthyl . . . after this, you can’t stay at the Chateau.”
“Why not?” I was tired, bone-tired, but I was irritated. I’d done my job, better than Master Dichartyn had done his, and he was telling me that I couldn’t keep doing something I’d done well? Maybe I’d been messy, but I’d gotten it done.
“The first reason is because you aren’t ready to supervise people, but you have more imaging skills than Baratyn, possibly more than he will ever have. You also jump to conclusions. Most of the time, so far, you’ve been right, but the higher you get in the Collegium the more convoluted and complex matters you will have to deal with can get, and that will increase the possibility that you’ll be wrong. Masters can’t afford to be wrong often, especially in dealing with the Council and High Holders. The second reason is that you still have trouble distinguishing when to be patient and when not to be.”
“So you’re going to send me off to the armory or something?” I almost didn’t care-except I did.
“No. I have an idea, but I’ll have to talk to Maitre Poincaryt about it. I’ll have to brief him tonight anyway after the mess you made. He shouldn’t find it out from anyone else.”
I almost snapped back that, if he’d told me more, we wouldn’t have had such a mess. If I’d known about Vhillar . . .
Then again, that was hindsight. Besides, expressing my anger at him wouldn’t help me any, and he already warned me about impatience once.
“Now . . . get some rest. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
After he left, I did close my eyes, then.
72
Trust does not demand details.
When I woke the next morning, every muscle in my body, or so it seemed, felt stiff and sore. Getting out of bed was torture, but I staggered to the jakes and back to the room, where I sat on the single straight-backed chair. I didn’t even want to think about climbing up into the bed. One of the obdurates brought me tea, and then Master Dichartyn arrived, still in his exercise clothes.
“You’d do anything to avoid exercises, wouldn’t you?” But he did grin. “How do feel?”
“Achy-sore, dull pain everywhere, except when I move, and then it’s not so dull.”
“You’re young. You’ll recover.”
Since he still hadn’t told me what lay ahead of me, and he wasn’t volunteering, I had to speak, before he left. “Last night you said I couldn’t return to the Chateau and that you’d have to consider something else.”
“Oh, that.”
He was baiting me, but I managed to say, “Yes, that. At my age, knowing one’s future does matter somewhat.”
“Not so much as you think,” he answered wryly. “Matters seldom turn out as planned, as you should know. Still . . . I did talk to Master Poincaryt, and he agreed. It’s an assignment that has been necessary now and again. You’ll be assigned to the civic patrollers as Collegium liaison. That will allow you to become a Maitre D’Aspect, but you already have those skills. So that won’t be a problem. You’ll also be in a visible position, which may work to your advantage in other matters. Then again, it may not. That will depend on you in large part.”
I didn’t care for the implications of his words about visibility. They referred to whatever attack High Holder Ryel was certain to initiate against me, and I could only hope that I would be prepared, because I had a strong feeling that whatever Ryel did would bypass the Collegium. I’d already seen enough of High Holders to understand that. But there was no point in saying so. I only asked, “Is this a hidden rank, or can I tell people?”
“You can tell anyone you want to-even the young lady-because we and the Civic Patrol want it known that their liaison is a master imager.”
“Why a liaison to the Civic Patrol? Or is that a way of shuttling me aside? Why couldn’t I just be a field operative?”
He shook his head. “That would be a waste of your talents. Besides, the liaison position is a far better choice for you.”
I hated having to drag things out of him, but he was also demonstrating that I needed to be patient, I supposed. “Begging your pardon, sir, but could you explain that?”
“That’s why I’m here. First, you have the basic and even more than basic imaging skills to handle it, and it will give you a chance to observe a side of life that will give you the necessary experience.”
This time, when he paused, I just waited.
“You’ll be appointed, effective Lundi morning, but you won’t report for at least another two weeks. That will give you time to heal some. Also, the patrol commander can make sure that everyone knows what you did outside the Chateau. Patrollers are impressed by imagers who risk their lives to save their comrades. They’ll be glad to have someone like you. The other aspect of the position is that, while they can only request of you, the same is true of you. You cannot give patrollers orders. Do you see why this is ideal for you?”
I wasn’t sure that I did. Going from working in the Council Chateau to effectively being an assistant to the patrollers-that was ideal? I tried to gather my thoughts together, and Master Dichartyn smiled faintly, but let me.
Finally, I replied. “I’ll be able to use imaging to help them, and perhaps protect a patroller now and then. I’ll have to figure out things before I can say anything because I can’t order anyone to do anything. That means I’ll have to be logical and precise enough that they’ll do what I suggest.”
He nodded. “It’s not a demotion of any sort. It’s a different path, and it is frankly a harder one, but there are some consolations. As I mentioned before, the first is rank. To be a liaison, you have to be at least a Maitre D’Aspect. That’s because, without master status, no one above the street patrollers will pay much attention. The second is that you’ll learn a great deal more about L’Excelsis and the way things truly operate.”