After spending a glass or so in my study catching up on the latest reports from across Solidar, I walked to the duty coach stand, where I took one to the Council Chateau. The Council was meeting more than three weeks before its normally scheduled date, and Baratyn was short-handed and might need some help. I also wanted to see what I could find out, even if I had no precise idea of what I sought.
I hadn’t even gotten much through the side door used by Collegium security before I was face to face with Baratyn.
“Maitre Rhennthyl,” he said with a wry smile, “I should be surprised to see you here, but I find that I’m not.”
“I thought it wouldn’t hurt to be here today, especially after I left you even more short-handed than usual.”
“We’ll work it out somehow. Dartazn needed new challenges. But…I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your eyes open for a good third.”
“After all this is over, there might be several who are suitable. We’ll have to see. Are there lots of petitioners waiting outside at the gate?”
“Not that many. Most of those who might wish to ask something of a Councilor know that today’s meeting will deal with officially choosing a new Chief Councilor and seating Councilor Fhernon.”
“Is Glendyl here?”
“He isn’t here yet.”
“He may not come,” I suggested, “but I’d wager that Caartyl’s here.”
“He was here before seventh glass.”
“Is ninth glass still the time they’ll meet?”
Baratyn nodded.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I hope not,” he replied with a laugh.
I couldn’t help smiling. “Then you don’t mind if I just sort of wander around?”
“That might help Ramsael.”
“He’s still in his old study, then?”
“He’s not Chief Councilor yet. The Council does try to follow its own rules…”
The way he let the sentence dangle suggested what we both knew. I nodded and headed for the north circular steps up to the upper level where the Councilors had their studies. Outside the Councilors’ lounge, I saw two men talking. One was High Holder Ramsael. I didn’t know the other, but since I did know all the Councilors by sight, it was almost a certainty that the other man was High Holder Fhernon, the one who would replace Suyrien on the Council. Since he had not, as of yet, he was doubtless in the awkward position of having neither study nor clerk, but only for less than a glass.
“…Find the Council a very different place…”
“So I hear.”
Ramsael saw me and gestured. “Maitre Rhennthyl, I thought it might be possible that you would be here. Have you met Councilor Fhernon?”
Why did everyone think I would be at the Council Chateau? Because Master Dichartyn had been…or because rumors were beginning to swirl around about me?
I stepped forward. “I have not.” I turned to Fhernon as I halted. “I have heard of you and your scrupulous fairness, however.” That was close to what Seliora had said.
“You see, Fhernon,” said Ramsael with a laugh, “your reputation precedes you. Because the Collegium is less than forthcoming, I might also point out that Maitre Rhennthyl is now the second-ranking imager in all Solidar.”
That was definitely a pleasant warning to Fhernon.
“I had not heard.” Fhernon inclined his head. “I am certain, then, that we will be seeing more of you.”
“Not too often,” I replied. “You’re far more likely to see Maitre Dyana or Councilor Rholyn. They are the ones who speak for the Collegium.”
“While you act for it,” added Ramsael.
“Only occasionally,” I said lightly, “and when I have, it’s often been for the benefit of various Councilors.”
Ramsael nodded to Fhernon. “If you will excuse us, Fhernon. Since I see Maitre Rhennthyl so seldom, I’m going to prevail upon him for a few moments of his time.” Then he turned back to me. “If you would not mind?”
“It would be my pleasure.” I wasn’t certain that it would be, but there was little else to be said, and I’d learn something. Whether it would be useful to my own interests was another question.
Ramsael gestured, and I walked alongside him toward the study that would become Fhernon’s in a few glasses, when Ramsael became Chief Councilor and took over the large corner study that had been Suyrien’s.
“I was sorry to hear that the Collegium was shelled.” He opened the study door. “I presume it was by Ferran agents.”
“Since we have not found those who did it,” I replied as I followed Ramsael into the study and closed the door, “all we know for certain is that they were accomplished gunners.”
Ramsael did not seat himself behind the desk, but stood beside the closed window.
I could feel a slight draft that suggested the window was not so tightly fitted as it might have been.
“You may not know this, Maitre Rhennthyl, but I was not the heir to Ram-sealte. So I took a commission as an officer and spent four years at sea.” He turned from the window. “The more I’ve learned about the bombardment of the Collegium, the more concerned I’ve become. The most senior and able of the imagers were targeted. As you noted, the gunnery was excellent. More than excellent. Outstanding, I would judge.” He paused. “Could that have been done by an imager? Certainly, there were no vessels remaining in the area.”
“The shells were fired from barges north of Imagisle. Quite a few people saw the barges burning and exploding before they sank. As for an imager creating that destruction…no. The best of imagers might be able to create and detonate one or two shells in that fashion, but there were something like eight fired quickly.”
“I thought as much, but it is best to ask. I must confess that I do not understand the motivation behind such an attack.” He held up a hand. “Oh, I can understand how the Ferrans well might wish to cripple Solidar by striking a blow at the Collegium, but by far the best way to do so would be to have targeted the quarters of your junior imagers. They represent the future, and one could kill far more of them with each shell. Whoever was behind the attack wanted to take out the leadership of the Collegium.”
“That is very clear,” I agreed. “But there have never been that many senior imagers, and I have no doubts that Ferrum knows that.”
“Might I ask what you intend to do about that and these other attacks on Solidar?”
“Might I ask why you’re asking me, rather than Councilor Rholyn or Maitre Dyana?”
“You could indeed. The truth is that you’re known not to imply one thing while meaning another or to say nothing at all in most elegant phrases.”
“I might not say anything at all.”
“You might not, but you will not waste my time.”
“Let us just say that the Collegium is well aware of the need to act.”
“Will the Naval Command support you in what ever you plan?”
“They will…either in the near-term…or later.”
“Your words contain implications…” He cocked his head slightly.
“All words do, Councilor.”
“Pardon me if I am unseemly in my bluntness, Maitre, but when might we know of the…implications?”
“As we both know,” I replied politely, “we are effectively at war with Ferrum. Until the Ferrans are dissuaded, that conflict will continue. We are working on such dissuasion. At the moment, I would prefer not to say more.”
“You are every bit Dichartyn’s successor.” Ramsael laughed. “Let me change the subject to another that will affect us all, if not quite so immediately. Like all the High Holders who are Councilors, I opposed the ‘reforms’ that the late Chief Councilor managed to have enacted in the last session of the Council.” Ramsael smiled politely at me. “I presume you understand the measures to which I’m referring.”