“Don’t give them any details. Just say that because it involves both the fleet and intelligence. I need to meet with them both-and only them at first. Then they can decide who else, if anyone, needs to know.”
Kahlasa grinned at me. “You know, Rhenn, you’re sounding more and more like a cross between Maitre Poincaryt and Maitre Dichartyn.”
“What? Trying to ask politely for the impossible?” I let wryness creep into my voice.
“Oh, you know it’s possible,” she countered. “Just extremely difficult. It’s a good thing you’ve survived so much.”
I had a good idea what she was driving at, but I only said, “There are more than a few others, like you, who’ve been through things I wouldn’t want to have done.”
“Not many. And you’ve lost people you’ve loved because you’re an imager.”
That surprised me, because I’d never mentioned Rousel’s death to anyone but Dichartyn.
Schorzat cleared his throat. I could tell we were making him uncomfortable, with the allusions to the death of Rousel and of Claustyn, Kahlasa’s husband, so soon after they’d been married. “I’ll have to go out to the Naval Command. Otherwise, they’ll stall you.”
“I’d appreciate that, and I’ll leave you two to continue doing the almost impossible.” I smiled as warmly as I could.
Once I returned to my study, I went through the newsheets. Veritum reported that the Stakanarans had repulsed a massive Tiempran counter-attack and then slaughtered close to half the Tiempran troops. Tableta’s lead story was yet another variation on the theme that innovative Naval tactics and superior training could only go so far, citing how much the new Ferran land-cruisers had changed the results in winter warfare in Cloisera and how the Stakanaran use of similar vehicles had played a part in the success of the annexation of Tiempran territory.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Valeun had some information suggesting that Dartazn’s imagers were having early successes against Ferrum.
It wasn’t until well into the afternoon that Schorzat knocked on my study door. “Half-past second glass tomorrow afternoon. The Sea-Marshal wasn’t pleased. I just asked his clerk-rating if the Sea-Marshal really wanted to put off the second-highest imager in all Solidar. Then I said I’d wait for an answer.”
“You leaned hard.”
“It wasn’t what you said, sir. It was how you said it. You don’t want to wait until next week. That was clear.”
“Something’s in the works, and I need to put the Sea-Marshal on notice.”
Schorzat smiled. “I’d love to be there.”
I shook my head. “They don’t talk unless they’re where they can deny what they’ve said.” After a moment, I added, “Thank you. I do appreciate it.”
“Better you than me, sir.” He stepped back and closed the door.
What with one thing and another, and a late afternoon meeting with Marteon, I didn’t get to the house until after fifth glass.
Seliora and Diestrya were sitting in the family parlor where Seliora was reading aloud to a slightly fidgety daughter.
Diestyra looked at her mother. “No more reading, please.”
So we talked and played with her until it was time for her to eat.
We headed downstairs after putting her to bed for our own dinner, but Seliora stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to me. “I received a notice of a bequest today. It came to NordEste Design.”
With all that had happened, and my decision not to tell her, I’d almost forgotten that she would get the notice. “A bequest? From whom?”
“From the estate of the late Suyrien D’Alte. Rhenn…it’s for ten thousand golds. I didn’t tell anyone the amount. I didn’t want to until I talked to you.”
I had to swallow at the sum of the bequest. Iryela had said that it would be small, but I hadn’t really accepted what was considered small to a High Holder. I’d have to work for more than twenty years to earn ten thousand golds-and I was one of the highest paid imagers in the Collegium-and to save that amount would have been impossible. Even my father had put by only a fraction of that amount, at least from what I knew.
“You’re as surprised as I am,” she said. “I wondered if you knew.”
“Iryela had mentioned that she thought that you might get a very small bequest. That’s why I didn’t mention it. She emphasized that it was very small, and I’d thought it might be something like fifty or a hundred golds. I didn’t say anything because she said she wasn’t sure.”
Seliora laughed softly. “Small means something very different to her.”
“Every time I deal with High Holders, it seems as though I’m reminded of that.”
“What will we do with it?”
“Put it in the Banque D’Excelsis in your name. It has to stay in your name. Talk to your mother and grandmother. Then we’ll discuss it. Some of it should go for private tutors for Diestrya if she turns out not to be an imager, although that’s not likely.”
Seliora’s mouth dropped open. “Do you think she will be? You’ve never said that before.”
“If you weren’t from a Pharsi background, I’d say it was unlikely, but with an imager father and a Pharsi mother, Kahlasa told me years ago that there are two chances in three for a daughter to be an imager. If both the mother and father are imagers, it’s two in three for a boy, and almost always for a girl. I could be wrong, but I have the feeling that Diestrya will show up with the ability.”
“Kahlasa has always known that Klaustya will be an imager?”
I nodded. “It may not show up for a time, but she will be.”
“She knew that before she had her daughter?”
“She said she felt that it was a gift she had to pass on, like the Pharsi heritage.” Kahlasa hadn’t compared it to the Pharsi heritage, but her words had held the same import.
“Do you know why Suyrien made the bequest?”
“I can only guess. He never talked to me. Iryela said that he once mentioned that he owed Kandryl’s happiness to us.”
“So…it’s a thank-you of sorts.”
“That’s my guess, but it’s only a guess.”
Seliora tilted her head slightly. “I’m not sure how I feel about that…but that will relieve Mama. She’s always worried about the future.”
“NordEste Design is doing better than ever, you said.”
“Pharsis never stop worrying. We may try to live for the day, but we plan endlessly for the morrow.” She smiled warmly at me. “You know that.”
I did indeed.
67
Vendrei morning found me in Maitre Dyana’s study by half-past eighth glass. She wore a gray and silver scarf trimmed in black, and again there were dark circles under her eyes.
“What do you intend to get out of this meeting with Valeun and Geuffryt? Unless there’s something I missed, you still don’t have much hard evidence to prove what we all know Geuffryt’s been doing.”
“I do have an interesting note that I have every reason to believe is in his handwriting, if somewhat disguised. It’s a warning to Vyktor that I’ll be looking into his operations, and dear late Vyktor was kind enough to add the date of receipt, as pointed out by Commander Artois.”
“Artois’s seen the note, then?”
“He’s the one who found it, but he doesn’t know the writer, and I didn’t tell him.”
“Geuffryt will deny it’s his writing.”
“I’m certain he will, but I intend to present all the evidence to the two of them and ask them exactly what they intend to do. Their reaction will be most illuminating.”
Dyana shook her head. “Are you fully recovered?”
“I have full shields, but I trust it won’t come to that.” And it wouldn’t, if things worked out the way I’d arranged them. That was something that Maitre Poincaryt had stressed-never have a meeting unless you had set it up so that events transpired the way you intended.
“You sound like Dichartyn again.”
I just shrugged.
“I’ll be here until late. Let me know when you get back.”
That-and the fact that she didn’t ask for details-told me that she was worried…and that she didn’t have any better ideas. “I will.”