Treachery's Tools (57 page)

“And no one listened to you?”

“They listened and nodded, and then pointed out that he had greatly improved the operation of patrol procurement and reduced the overall costs of operating the Civic Patrol without requiring fewer patrollers.”

“Very factor-like requirements,” observed Alastar reclaiming the card.

“I prefer factor-like requirements in a factorage. I would rather have safety and fewer malefactors on the streets and prowling the alleys.”

“That would seem most reasonable, and I would agree. But I am not a factor.”

“You run an efficient factorage, Maitre. I've seen that.”

“I know enough to let those who can run it do so.” Alastar smiled. “In any case, you now know why I wished to see you.”

“You've told me what you want me to know. That is likely not why you wished to see me.”

“But it is. I wanted you to know what I discovered. I've also informed Elthyrd of what you know. Now … it has been a long day already, and I would like to return to Imagisle before another deluge pummels L'Excelsis.”

“I certainly will not keep you,” said Kathila, standing and glancing momentarily toward the window, “but I have my doubts as to whether you will reach the Collegium before being drenched.”

Alastar stood and inclined his head to her. “That may be.”

In fact, it was.

He and Coermyd had ridden less than half a mille north on the West River Road before a soft heavy rain began to fall.

 

33

The rain lasted until well after midnight, and, again, there were shallow ponds and puddles everywhere on Jeudi morning, as well as scattered fog and mist. Even so, Alastar and the others did manage the morning run, and he was soaked through and through from the warm damp and the standing water by the time he finished. Alyna and Malyna seemed to fly over the water while he and Lystara had slogged through it. At least, it had seemed that way to him.

He'd only been in his study less than a quint when Dareyn brought in the first message of the day, delivered by army courier. Knowing it had to be from Wilkorn, Alastar read it immediately.

Maitre Alastar—

I have just received reports that on Mardi afternoon, the rebel forces set out from Nordeau. If they maintain standard pace, they will reach Caluse by Lundi around midday.

We intend to depart headquarters at sixth glass tomorrow. That will allow us a day and a half to reach a point north of Caluse ideal for an attack on the rebels and another two days and a half to prepare. Should they decide not to take the west road north, we will be able to withdraw more quickly than they to L'Excelsis, since the East River Road north of Caluse is narrow and parts remain unpaved and rutted. Also, the ancient three-span bridge at Caluse is very narrow. We could easily shell it and destroy it, or render it unusable by other means, if we think it would be to our advantage.

It would seem preferable for the majority of the imagers to be near the van, but the army will defer to the Collegium in the positioning of imagers …

When Alastar finished reading the long dispatch, he had Maercyl summon Cyran, Akoryt, and Alyna. While he waited, he took out his maps and considered what Wilkorn had written. Should the imagers be that concentrated? Or would several groups be preferable?

Two groups, not several.

Alyna was the first to arrive. As she settled into the chair closest to the window, she looked at Alastar and said, “The High Holders are advancing on L'Excelsis, aren't they?”

“Moving toward L'Excelsis, at least. How did you know?”

“Maercyl said you'd gotten a dispatch from the marshal, and you summoned me, Cyran, and Akoryt. That was the obvious conclusion. There are others, but, knowing you, none of the others were probable.”

As she finished speaking, Cyran and Akoryt entered the study. Akoryt closed the door.

Alastar gestured toward the chairs and then waited for the other two to sit down before beginning, “The High Holder force is moving toward Caluse. We're leaving in the morning.”

“I had a feeling it wouldn't be that long,” said Akoryt.

“Are you sticking with the same twelve imagers you picked earlier?” asked Cyran.

“Unless something has changed that I don't know about. Has it?”

“Not that I know of.” Cyran smiled sheepishly. “I mean, much has changed, but nothing that you don't know.”

“We'll need to have everyone ready at the stables. We're to meet up with the main force where the Poignard Road meets the West River Road at seventh glass.”

Akoryt frowned momentarily. “That's where the river bends and heads due south, isn't it?”

“It is,” replied Cyran. “South and west of the barge piers.”

“That's only a ride of three quints at best,” offered Akoryt.

“I think you're suggesting that being ready at fifth glass is perhaps early?” Alastar smiled warmly.

“I might be at that,” replied Akoryt.

“Two quints before sixth glass, then?”

“That should provide more than enough time,” said Alyna.

“Can any of you think of anything I need to do before leaving tomorrow?”

Akoryt and Cyran exchanged glances. Both shook their heads.

“If you do, let me know. Otherwise, get on with your preparations. First off, Akoryt, you make sure that all of those going are told and know when to muster. Then go over the equipment and gear listings with each one.”

“Yes, sir. I went over the gear with each yesterday.”

“Good.”

“Cyran, you have the bullets in special cartridge cases?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Make sure someone is watching them all the time, once we set out.”

“Alyna, how many of those bullets did you two manage to image?”

“A thousand.”

“And they're all to tolerances for the heavy rifles?”

“That's why there are only a thousand. We also fired some using the captured rifles. There didn't seem to be a problem.”

Beside her, Cyran nodded.

Akoryt gave the faintest of headshakes.

“I don't like it, either, but I'd rather try to take out the leadership than slaughter the rebel troopers.” Alastar just hoped he didn't have to use the bullets on troopers, but he wasn't about to rule that out, not if it meant the difference between putting down the revolt and not doing so.

“When you put it that way…”

“Exactly,” said Alyna.

Another quint passed before Cyran and Akoryt left. When Alastar and Alyna were alone in the study, he turned to her. “You know I'm not pleased about possibly having to use those bullets.”

“I know.”

“I won't if I don't think it's necessary.”

“You may not have a choice. We both know that.”

After Alyna left, Alastar turned to Dareyn, the only one in the anteroom. “I'll be going over some matters with Maitre Thelia. After that, in about two glasses, I'll need an escort and a mount—but not the gray. He needs to rest today.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.” Alastar then walked back to Thelia's study, where he spent slightly more than two quints going over the last details of arranging the supplies and the two wagons necessary to carry them.

When Alastar returned to the anteroom, Maercyl said, “Beltran and your mount are waiting by the main entrance.”

“Thank you.” Alastar paused. “Is Dareyn all right?”

“Yes, sir. He's helping Maitre Obsolym.” Maercyl smiled. “He's almost back to where he was.”

“We don't want him overdoing things.”

“No, sir. I've threatened to tell Elmya when he pushes himself too hard. That seems to work.”

Alastar laughed, then turned and headed for the main entrance.

As he approached the horses, Beltran, who stood between the two, holding the reins, said, “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning. We won't be riding far. Just over the East Bridge and south to the Banque D'Excelsis. After that, we might ride another few blocks.” Alastar took the reins of the chestnut mare from Beltran and mounted.

As he rode across the East Bridge, Alastar checked the water level in the river—still roughly a yard below the top of the riverwall, and far higher than he would have liked. He would have been surprised if more than a few fields and lands south of L'Excelsis weren't flooded, and that could change everything in terms of what Wilkorn had planned.

When they reached the Banque D'Excelsis, Alastar took a good look as he dismounted. The narrow stone building appeared far better than it had the first time Alastar had seen it some thirteen years earlier. Then the gray stone had been covered with years of smoke and grit that had given it almost the color of charcoal. Now the light gray stone was clean, and the bars that covered the windows were painted a shiny black. A stone plaque with the letters stating
BANQUE D'EXCELSIS
had been set into the stone above the door several years back, recalled Alastar, replacing the older signboard. The brass on the heavy oak door shimmered. Two guards, with sabers at their sides, stood just inside the entrance. Both looked at Alastar, then inclined their heads.

Inside the door was a small foyer, its floor of gray marble. Beyond the square arch at the rear of the foyer was a single large chamber, at the back of which was a counter. The top of the counter was graced by a bronze railing fastened to a bronze plate, with bronze bars connecting the plate and railing. At three places, there were openings in the bronze bars, and behind each sat a man in a green jacket, presumably on a high stool.

“Maitre Alastar…” Estafen appeared from somewhere to the side and walked forward, stopping a yard away. “You honor us.”

“I have to say that you've definitely improved the building … and especially the interior, I suspect.”

“You're kind. Might I ask…?”

“I'd like a few words with you, preferably not in public.”

“Of course. This way.” Estafen led the way to a very small study, one with just a circular table and two chairs, a single bookcase, and two file chests on narrow tables. He closed the door behind Alastar, then gestured to the table and chairs.

As he took one of the chairs, Alastar observed that both chairs were positioned so that whoever sat in either could see the door.

Estafen took in Alastar's glance and said, “Some of those with whom we do business very much wish to keep their plaques close to their jackets.”

“I've found that a great many factors share that feeling.”

“Might I ask what you have in mind, Maitre?”

“Commander Murranyt.”

“Oh? In what regard?”

Although Estafen's expression remained pleasant, Alastar could definitely sense a tension that had not been present a moment before.

“I recall that his predecessor died of the red flux. Most people don't.”

“That's true. Most have it as children.”

“I also discovered that there is a tonic that, helpful as it may be in dealing with other illnesses, actually makes the red flux much worse. Why this may be of interest is that in searching the study of the late High Holder Laevoryn—who supported armed brown-shirts against Rex Lorien—I came across this.” Alastar laid the card on the table before Estafen.

The financier read it slowly, then looked up. “It is suggestive.”

“In more ways than one…” Alastar gave a brief summary of his meeting with Murranyt, concluding, “so you can see why I have certain concerns.”

“I would suggest that you are not the only one, but…”

“Unpleasantnesses tend to occur to those who cross the commander?”

“Something like that.”

“I've been getting that impression.” Alastar smiled pleasantly. “That's really all I wanted to say. It's not a matter with which I'm likely to concern myself or the Collegium until we finish dealing with the High Holder rebels.”

“And that is likely to happen … when?”

“As matters now stand, within the next few weeks … possibly sooner.” Alastar stood.

“Is what you showed me something you wish kept between us?” asked Estafen as he rose.

“I have no problem in others knowing the contents of the card, or the fate of the previous commander. I would appreciate that any others not be informed of how you came to see it.”

Estafen nodded. “There are a few…”

“I believe I understand.” Alastar inclined his head slightly. “Until later.”

Estafen inclined his head in return.

Alastar had thought about conveying similar information to Alamara the younger, but after seeing Estafen's reaction decided against it. He also had his own preparations to make for the battle ahead. He just hoped it wouldn't turn into a campaign.

 

34

While Alastar had hoped to get back to the Maitre's house by third glass, word about his departure had apparently spread, and more than a few imagers appeared at his study door with various matters they felt needed decisions or resolution before he left. Some things did indeed need resolution—such as Petros's concerns about the continually rising prices for hay and feed grain, although in the end, there wasn't much of a choice besides trying to negotiate the best prices, but Alastar did have to make sure that Thelia knew he had approved the purchases to come.

When he finally reached the Maitre's house, it was well after fourth glass, and he was wondering what he'd overlooked. With so many aspects of the Collegium, there had to be something. Not that he worried overmuch. Alyna was more than capable of dealing with matters in his absence.

Deciding what to take from all the gear he had assembled was the next step. He squared his shoulders and headed up the stairs to the sitting room. After glancing around, he set out his saddlebags, then laid out the two sets of grays he'd already decided upon—one to wear and one spare. The two were his oldest, since he suspected that neither would be worth wearing after what was likely to happen.