“By subjecting ourselves to stricter rules and by not displaying overtly our prosperity and power, we attempt to avoid being a target?”
“As you will discover, anyone who attacks an imager is an enemy of the Collegium, and yet, as you will discover, while measures are taken to assure that such attackers or those who hired them do not survive, the Collegium seldom acts in a way so as to create an impression of might as an institution. Even so, while we occasionally are not successful in finding the attackers, we seldom fail in discovering those who hired them, although it may occasionally take years. Consequently, most attacks are not planned by those in L’Excelsis. But there are some.” He paused. “What does this mean in the context of the question I asked you?”
By the time I left Master Jhulian, there were so many thoughts flying through my head that nothing seemed quite as it had been. Equally disturbing were the two short papers he’d assigned, along with the reading. How was I going to prove or disprove that natural law was a contradiction in terms? Or that the second formal requirement of law-that laws must be knowable and understandable to all who are capable of understanding them-was in conflict with the first requirement?
And why did I need to know all that? Just to be a silent guard for the Council? That didn’t seem likely, but it also didn’t seem likely that I was being groomed to be a jurist or advocate for the Collegium either.
36
A true imager sees beyond the eyes and hears beyond the words.
On Mardi night at dinner, I was sitting with Kahlasa and Menyard, exhausted in both body and mind, because Clovyl had continued to increase the severity and intensity of my physical training, both in terms of exercise and running and in learning greater physical self-defense skills. In order to gain weaponless combat skills, I was now sparring with several other thirds, all of them older and more experienced. Not only was I exhausted and bruised, but that had come on top of another long morning with Master Jhulian.
“You look a little dazed, Rhenn,” Kahlasa said. “You haven’t said much this evening.”
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. I had my first session with Master Jhulian yesterday, and he gave me two essays and more than fifty pages of reading in the Jurisprudence book. Today, he criticized those essays and told me to rewrite them, and added another longer one, and forty pages more.” I wanted to take a long swallow of wine, but I only sipped. I had to work with Maitre Dyana later, and I didn’t want my senses or abilities wine-dimmed.
Menyard looked as blank as my mind felt, but Kahlasa nodded knowingly.
“And Clovyl has me doing a half glass of exercises and running six milles before we even get into everything he’s trying to teach me.”
That surprised Kahlasa. “They’re pushing you hard. That’s not good.”
“You’re telling me it doesn’t feel good? I hurt most of the time.” I finished my last bite of the crumb pudding.
She shook her head. “You’re not the only one. They’re stepping up training on several levels, and they’re cutting short return leaves for field imagers. That suggests troubles ahead.”
“The newsheets reported that emissaries from the High Priest of Caenen and from the Oligarch of Jariola were meeting in Caena last week,” Menyard interjected. “The Abiertans have been refitting some of their merchanters with heavy weapons, and bought several old cruisers from Ferrum that they’re also refitting.”
“Tiempre and Stakanar have signed a pact for mutual defense,” added Kahlasa.
“Do any of them really think they’ll end up gaining anything?” I’d read about all the pacts and the arming and rearming. Tiempre and Stakanar bordered Caenen, and both worried about the High Priest and his efforts to spread the gospel of Duality. My thought was that the gospel was merely a front to get his people to support a war of expansion, but maybe I’d been too steeped in the more practical religious approach of the Nameless. Then the Otelyrnan League, composed of the smaller nations on the continent of Otelyrn, had agreed to allow the Tiempran forces rights of passage on major highways and waterways. That had incensed the High Priest of Caenen, and one thing was leading to another. But I still didn’t understand why; wars almost always cost the winner more than the winner gained, and the loser-and its leaders-could lose everything, including their lives. But most leaders clearly didn’t believe they’d be the losers.
“The High Priest wants to save the world from the damnation of the Nameless and any other faith in conflict with Duodeus, and make a profit while doing so,” suggested Kahlasa.
“And Ferrum wants to make a higher profit by selling arms to both sides, and the edgy neutrals,” said Menyard.
“And our factors want to sell to everyone, I suppose?” I added.
“Of course, but these things can get out of hand,” replied Kahlasa. “That’s why the Collegium is preparing.”
“For what?”
She just smiled. “For whatever may be necessary. Right now, I don’t know, but Master Dichartyn will tell you, and Master Schorzat will tell me.”
“And neither of you will be pleased,” added Menyard. “I’m just glad I don’t have to do what you two do.”
“What do you do,” I said, “if I might ask?”
“I’m an equipment designer and imager. Very special equipment. At some point, Master Dichartyn may send you to me. I’ve worked with most of his imagers.”
“Do you two know what I’m being trained for?”
“No,” replied Kahlasa. “Except in general. You’re being trained by Master Dichartyn. He’s in charge of Collegium and Council security, but he never tells imagers in training what their final assignments will be until they’re through training, or until he’s sure that they will get through training. He’s in charge of the Council guard force, the Collegium security section, the covert/overt section, and imager reception.”
I couldn’t help but frown at the last. “Reception?”
“What better way to find out what we do than send an imager spy into the Collegium?”
Put that way, it made sense. I decided against asking about the covert/overt section, not because I didn’t wish to know, but because I knew I wouldn’t learn any more.
As I left dinner, I thought about a term Kahlasa had used-“field imagers.” The fact that she came and went from the Collegium suggested that she was one of them. The handbook on the Collegium didn’t mention specifics. It just said that imagers had a wide range of duties, both at the four Collegia and elsewhere. But Kahlasa didn’t report to Master Dichartyn, and that meant field imagers weren’t directly connected to Master Dichartyn.
I almost started out the dining hall doors to my quarters, out of force of habit, then stopped. It was still before seven, and I was supposed to wait for Maitre Dyana.
Everyone had left the corridor, and the first bell was striking when I saw her step through the rear door and walk toward me. I just watched, politely, as she approached, taking in her iron-gray hair and bright blue eyes. She wore imager grays, but in addition, she had draped herself with a brilliant blue scarf that matched her eyes. The skin on her face was pale and smooth, younger than her hair would have suggested, and she offered a pleasant smile.
“Rhennthyl . . . you’re Dichartyn’s protege.” She nodded. “I can see why. You look like a well-mannered young fellow, could be a junior son of a High Holder or a merchant heir or, with a beard, a struggling artist. That’s not so surprising, since you’ve already been two of those.”
Except I’d never had a beard. I’d tried, once, but it came in curly and itchy, even though my hair only had a slight wave in it.
“There’s a small conference room off the entrance. That will do.”