“Anything is possible in these times,” I said, taking a goblet of the Ryel red-a varietal Grisio, really-from a serving girl, and looking to Iryela. “This is one of my favorite wines, and not just because it’s from your vineyards.”
“We’re glad you enjoy it.”
Seliora accepted her goblet and took a sip.
“I can tell Seliora and I think the same of the white,” said Kandryl. “As does Father.”
That offered the opportunity I wanted. “I don’t think I’ve seen your father more than a handful of times since the wedding…although he did invite us to the Council’s Autumn Ball next Vendrei.”
“None of us see him very often,” said Frydryk with a laugh. “If he’s not dealing with Council business, he’s dealing with other High Holders. At the moment, he’s in Ruile…something to do with Ruelyr. He’s got all the lands between Ruile and the Sud Swamp. Ruelyr and Father have been friends for years, but…”
“But?” asked Alynkya.
“Ruelyr…let’s just say that he’d have been more successful as a High Holder several centuries back. Father has had to caution him more than once about the distinction between low justice and Council justice.” Frydryk glanced to me. “Or Civic Patrol justice.”
Neither Iryela nor Kandryl spoke, and I could sense the tension. Why would Frydryk offer such a pointed remark? To test me? Or to needle Iryela by reminding her that she was subject to Kandryl’s enforcement of low justice?
“The Civic Patrol is an arm of the Council,” I said with a smile, “and I’m charged with enforcing the laws of the Council. Most High Holders are like your father, very honorable men, who understand quite clearly that distinction. There are always those men, who can be anything from High Holders to taudis-toughs, who think the law is something for others to obey. They’re few, but they cause most of the problems in any land, even in Solidar.”
“You’ve handled them well,” said Iryela casually, looking to Frydryk, who ignored her glance while not seeming to do so.
“I’ve had the value of good counsel…and luck, but still…it’s always better when you can deal with those of good manners, whether crafters, factors, or High Holders. Seliora’s found that as well.” I inclined my head toward the loveliest woman in the room.
“I suppose you do deal with all sorts,” said Frydryk, not quite pointedly.
“Who was it,” I interjected quickly, “that was so easy for you to deal with, but whose fiance…the bride…” I knew very well who it was, but I wanted Seliora to bring up her name.
“Oh…Dhelora D’Zaerlyn-Alte…she’s very bright and quite pleasant.” Seliora smiled.
“I’ve never heard of High Holder Zaerlyn,” I said, not that such was surprising, given that there were more than a thousand spread across Solidar.
“The family’s been very reclusive,” replied Iryela. “Their lands aren’t far from ours, and I don’t think we’ve met, even socially, on more than five or six occasions. They have a number of gold and silver properties, and one of the largest porcelain works in Solidar.”
“That’s a polite way of putting it,” suggested Frydryk. “They’ve produced…shall we say…bathing and other facilities for generations.”
“His name never comes up for the Council or anything else,” I said.
“His influence is very subtle,” said Kandryl. “He has contacts in surprising places, and Father has often consulted with him.”
For several long moments, there was silence, before Frydryk spoke up again. “I’ve often wondered why there are no imager High Holders. Oh, I know, the law is very strict about that, but I’d think that someone like you, Rhenn, would do as well as the average High Holder.” After the slightest pause, he added, “If not better.”
Seliora offered a pleasant smile, but I could sense the cold iron behind it.
Even Iryela stiffened just the tiniest bit, for all of her upbringing as a High Holder.
I laughed. “I suppose I could, Frydryk, I suppose I could; but if we allowed that, why, all too many imagers would think they could do it, and then what would happen to all the old High Holders?”
Frydryk actually looked puzzled.
I smiled again, then imaged a bullet into his crystal goblet. It appeared in the middle of the white Grisio and then dropped against the crystal with a dull ring. “I can do that. I could image that anywhere…perhaps into a heart…an artery…a return vein to the heart. Some imagers can do that. Some can’t. It’s a bit like High Holders. Some understand. Some don’t. Just like your father has to remind High Holders of their duties and responsibilities, so there are imagers who remind other imagers of theirs. Even so, the combination of a High Holder and an imager wouldn’t be good for Solidar.”
Frydryk was still looking at the bullet. He swallowed. “I’ve never seen that.”
I imaged it out of the glass and onto the side table. “I can also remove things. As a matter of fact, some years ago, when your father was giving a toast, I imaged an entire glass of poisoned wine out of his goblet, and the liquid only trembled.”
“He never mentioned that.”
“I don’t know if he was even told. That’s part of the security detail that protects Council members while they’re at the Council Chateau. I was only on that detail for a season or so, but I stopped several attempted assassinations. So did others, far more quietly. Much of the time, the Councilors don’t even see that. Occasionally, they do. It’s a very cooperative system. The Collegium protects the Council, and the Council protects the Collegium. It works.”
“Why did you leave that duty?” asked Iryela.
I laughed again, with more humor. “Both the Collegium and I discovered that, among other things, I lacked the requisite talent for remaining unnoticed. I have trouble not doing things like that.” I gestured to the bullet I’d imaged out of nowhere. “Civic Patrollers don’t have to remain invisible.” I paused. “I don’t mean literally invisible. I mean that a good imager security type always looks like he or she belongs wherever he or she happens to be, so much so that no one ever questions their presence.”
“Was that what you were doing when you requested a dance from me the first time?” asked Alynkya.
“Yes,” I replied. “That was part of it. Even there, I wasn’t very good at being unnoticed. You not only remembered me, but had your father track down who I was. Had I been truly good at it, you only would have vaguely remembered a pleasant young man who was polite and a good but not outstanding dancer.”
“There were some…” Alynkya mused.
“Exactly.”
She smiled, somehow wistfully and warmly, and at that moment, I truly wished that she had found someone else to marry besides Frydryk. Strong as I suspected she was, she was still far too sweet for him, but there was nothing I could do about that.
From there the conversation drifted into talk of wine vintages, about which my knowledge was limited, and into how Iryela and Kandryl had finally finished rebuilding the gardens after the “great freeze,” an indirect reference to my actions that had led to Iryela inheriting Ryel and marrying Kandryl, who only used his holding title-Ryel D’Alte-when absolutely necessary.
A glass later, we repaired to the “small” dining room. The food was exquisite, and even Frydryk stopped sneering once he started eating.
20
We didn’t get back to Imagisle until midnight on Samedi, and I paid Charlsyn two full silvers. Doubtless Mother had already paid him extra, but there was never any point in being cheap when you asked for special service, and he was appreciative. We did sleep late on Solayi morning, as late as Diestrya would let us, which wasn’t quite until half-past sixth glass, but since I was usually up before fifth glass, it was a luxury of sorts.
We had a half-leisurely breakfast-hurried until Diestrya was fed-and then relaxed more afterwards while she played on the kitchen floor. We sat in the adjoining breakfast room, where we could watch her through the archway, and sipped a second cup of tea.