I nodded politely. “What about matters with Assistant Sea-Marshal Geuffryt?”
“That is a most delicate situation. You must understand that situations such as those cannot possibly be rushed, Maitre Rhennthyl. If there were more concrete evidence…it might be easier.” Another smile followed. “I had hoped that by now you might be able to present such.”
“You did receive considerable indication of the involvements and difficulties created for the Naval Command.” I kept my voice pleasant, almost dispassionate.
“Ah…but as you well know, Maitre Rhennthyl, those difficulties and involvements pose a problem only if they become known, whereas the replacement or removal of an Assistant Sea-Marshal only upon the recommendation of the Collegium might be construed as infringing on the prerogatives of the Council.”
“Not necessarily, and not if the Sea-Marshal did so on his own initiative.”
“To do so on his own initiative requires cause. Cause requires proof. In cases such as policy differences, the affected Assistant Sea-Marshal would be able to raise other issues, and the Sea-Marshal would be required to justify his actions to the Council. I do trust you understand.”
I did indeed. What Valeun was saying was that if he removed Geuffryt without hard evidence, he’d be questioned, and the questions would raise issues that would have him removed as well. Therefore, he had no intention of doing so without hard evidence. I could indeed force the issue, but forcing it would reveal that the Collegium was directly infringing on the Council’s territory. He was also implying that Geuffryt couldn’t be removed over differences in policy, because Geuffryt had no compunctions about bringing Valeun down.
“And I do understand,” Valeun went on smoothly, “that the Assistant Sea-Marshal has pointed out that he is in excellent health and most unlikely to suffer any natural ailments.”
“He is most astute, as I have known.” I smiled politely. “Perhaps we should defer such matters until after events in Ferrum have taken their course.”
“That would seem the wisest of courses.”
We passed a few more pleasantries before I departed.
When I returned to the Collegium, I went up to see Maitre Dyana, but she was out, and I headed back to my study. It wasn’t that long before Gherard appeared.
“Maitre Dyana can see you now, sir.”
“Thank you.” I left the latest reports unread.
Maitre Dyana remained behind her desk as I walked into her study and closed the door. “You went to see Valeun, I heard.”
“I did. He’s stalling on Geuffryt, and strongly suggesting that he needs some hard evidence. He doesn’t believe that we’ll let people know about all the strange occurrences that have involved the Naval Command.”
“We’d be better off if we didn’t.”
“He also made the point that Geuffryt has spread the word among the Councilors that he is in excellent health and very unlikely to suffer any strange or sudden illnesses. I have the feeling that Geuffryt may know things about Valeun.”
“That’s very possible.” She raised an eyebrow. “What will you do?”
“Nothing…not for a bit. We agreed to defer dealing with Geuffryt. It’s unlikely we’ll get any news on what’s happening in Ferrum for another week. It could be more. The imagers arrived safely and were being shifted to the fast gunboats at the time of the last message.”
“Do you think he was telling the truth about that?”
“Yes. That’s one thing he has no reason to lie about, and I don’t think he’s the type to lie without a reason that benefits him.”
She nodded. “Keep me informed.”
I would, although it was clear that I would have to take a different tack in dealing with Valeun, since he had once more proved that he was not to be trusted, not that I’d had any great faith in him to begin with, but that meant re-thinking a number of things.
Nothing of great import happened during the rest of the afternoon, and I was home by fifth glass, just after Seliora. For a moment, I almost called for Diestrya, before realizing she was spending the weekend at NordEste Design.
I had to admit that I took some time embracing her, enjoying the lack of interruptions. She definitely didn’t seem to mind, although she did finally disengage herself.
“I do need to get ready for tonight’s reception. Arriving disheveled is not a good idea.”
It was a very good idea, actually, but not for a reception.
As we walked upstairs, I broached another subject. “Dearest…I hate to ask yet another favor of your family…”
“I think we can manage that.” Her tone was wry.
“I need a Navy officer’s sidearm, one in good condition, with a full magazine.”
Seliora stopped at the top of the stairs and frowned. “You’re thinking about something very dangerous. Imagers don’t need sidearms.”
“I am. I hope I won’t need it, but…I have this feeling that it may be necessary.”
“For what?”
“As evidence.”
“It might take a few days, since we won’t see anyone until Lundi.”
“Whenever you can.”
“Do you want to tell me why?”
“Not unless I have to use it.”
That was all she asked, and we got dressed. Seliora wore green and black, and I wore black, not that I had much choice. We did take the Collegium coach I’d reserved-that was another three silvers from my pay, plus another for Elreyt.
We arrived at High Holder Fhernon’s town home, located on the highest point in Martradon, just behind a gray coach with brass trim. The three-level dwelling-and the high walls around it-had to have been more than a century old, since most High Holders’ dwellings were outside L’Excelsis. The fluted green marble columns echoed the elegance of that time.
The various servants all wore white-collared maroon livery, and we were ushered into the main floor receiving room. Madame D’Fhernon stood at the doorway.
“Maitre Rhennthyl, Madame D’Rhennthyl…it is so good that you could join us this evening. You must try the vintages that Fhernon had brought from Faemyra. I do recommend the white.” She smiled conspiratorially. “Even if Fhernon insists the red is better.”
“We may try both,” I replied.
“Thank you for including us,” added Seliora.
As we entered the room, I glanced up. The ceiling was all off-white plasterwork, with a maroon and gold border separating the ceiling from the aged walnut panels and maroon and gold hangings that flanked the wide windows.
Standing by the window looking down on the Theatre District, were Frydryk and Alynkya. Alynkya’s face held a strained and polite smile, and I belatedly recognized the couple across from them as her father, Chief Councilor Ramsael…and Cyana D’Guerdyn, dressed in pale blue. From the way that Cyana positioned herself, I had the feeling that she was now Madame D’Ramsael, and that might well have explained the strain in Alynkya, since Cyana could not have been more than five or six years older than Alynkya. The former Ferran envoy to Solidar had once escorted Cyana to a Council Ball, and that she was apparently now Madame D’Ramsael disturbed me slightly.
Ramsael turned as we moved toward them. “Oh…Rhenn…and this must be your wife.” He inclined his head to Seliora. “You are indeed as so many report.”
“You’re very kind,” Seliora replied.
“I’d like you both to meet my wife Cyana.”
We both nodded politely, and I said, “I’ve been so occupied with other matters that I had not heard of the happy event.”
“It was a quiet affair, overshadowed by what happened afterwards,” offered Cyana.
“If you will excuse us,” said Ramsael, “I do believe we are being summoned.”
I could sense the relief in Alynkya as her father and her stepmother moved away.
“Rhenn, if I might have a word with you?” Behind Frydryk’s pleasant look was something more.
“Of course.” I looked to Seliora. “If you will excuse us, ladies?”
Seliora smiled. “I’ve so wanted to talk to Alynkya…”