Treachery's Tools (46 page)

To the right, a good five yards to the right of Lystara, Alastar saw shadows outlined against the faint shimmer of the river to the north, shadows climbing over the top of the riverwall.

Then there was a gasp.

“What have we here?” The rough voice, low as it was, carried enough for Alastar to know it didn't belong on Imagisle.

Without even looking at each other, Alastar and Alyna both began to run.

Within moments, Alastar could see a figure holding a girl—but the girl was neither Lystara nor Malyna, while another held a young man who struggled. In fact, he could not see either girl. A third dark-clad man held a rifle aimed at the struggling youngster.

At that moment, the rifle seemed to fall apart, and the girl spun away from the man who had held her. Two more men vaulted onto the riverwall, both holding rifles.

Alastar imaged iron darts into both, as did Alyna, and both men plunged forward onto the stone walk, their rifles crashing and spinning away.

The man whose rifle had broken lunged toward the youngster still held captive, a knife in his hand, but slowed as a mist surrounded his head. Then he screamed, as needles appeared across his face. Blood spurted from one eye as a spike, rather than a dart, appeared there. He staggered, then sagged to the ground and was still.

The man who had held the girl crumpled, an iron dart protruding from his skull, a startled expression frozen on his face.

Yet another dark-clad figure jumped onto the riverwall, swinging his rifle around, but before he could bring it to bear, or Alastar could image, the rifleman stiffened, tottered, and fell back.

Alastar wasn't sure he heard a splash, and that worried him. He sprinted to the wall and looked out. Despite the faint light from Artiema, he could not clearly make out how many men remained on the bargelike craft that the two sailors on the prow were pushing away from the riverwall even though they were only two yards below him—a yard more than would have been the case farther south along the riverwall. Rather than guess, he imaged away a chunk of the hull below the prow, then imaged a spray of iron darts across the deck of the craft. A second and more targeted spray followed when he saw two figures still standing.

Then he imaged away part of the upstream side hull, watching as the craft dropped lower in the water. There was no motion on the deck of the flatboat as the current slowly carried it away from Alastar, first scraping against the stone riverwall and then sinking lower while it drifted away from the stone, slowly gaining speed.

Alastar turned, scanning the area, but could see no one except Alyna and the boy and girl … and the five bodies.

“Girls,” said Alyna calmly, “you can drop the concealments.”

Both Lystara and Malyna appeared—Lystara less than a yard from the female student imager, Malyna by the hedge.

As he walked toward the others, Alastar belatedly recognized the young man and the girl. “Davour, Ilora … just what were you two doing this close to the riverwall?” He shook his head. “Don't bother answering. There should be some disciplinary punishment, but I think you've both been through enough tonight. You'll walk back with us in a few moments.” He looked to Lystara. “You used your shields to push Ilora to safety, didn't you?”

“That was all right, wasn't it?”

“It was well done. Very well done. It might have gotten very unpleasant after that if your mother and I hadn't decided to follow you when you kept heading up the steps toward the riverwall—which you should not have done, either.” He looked around. “Who imaged the pepper mist?”

“I did,” admitted Davour.

“And the spike to the eye?” Alastar looked to Malyna.

“How did you know?”

“It wasn't likely to be anyone else.” He looked to Ilora. “The needles?”

“Yes, sir. I'm still not good with darts.”

“If you are in a situation like that again, and I hope you're not, make sure some needles go into the eyes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who broke the rifle?” asked Alyna.

“I did,” said Lystara. “That was a mistake. I was trying to get it to explode in his hands. It didn't work.”

Alastar frowned, then walked over to where the two pieces of the broken rifle lay, leaning down to inspect them. “Not so much a mistake as a miscalculation. There was a small explosion or fire here.” He straightened up. “Davour. I don't feel much like running. Hurry to the duty maitre and inform … her”—it took Alastar a moment to remember that Celiena had the duty—“what happened here. She'll need to have the duty disciplinary squad come up here and take care of the bodies. You wait there for me.”

“Yes, sir.” Davour hurried off, south along the stone walk and then down the long and gradual staircase.

Alyna moved to the wall and looked out across the river. “There's no sign of anyone else.”

“Good.” Given the currents around the north end of Imagisle, Alastar hadn't thought that someone would have tried to land a flatboat there.

He went from one body to the next, looking closely. All wore the same dark brown uniforms, and all the rifles were seemingly identical. Then he quickly searched each, looking for something that might easily identify from where they came. He found nothing of the sort. He also only found seven coppers among all five bodies.

Finally, he straightened. “We might as well head back now that you girls have seen the glowbugs. After we collect all the rifles. We don't want anyone fiddling with them. There's already been enough excitement this evening.”

 

26

While Alyna herded the girls back to the Maitre's house, Alastar escorted Ilora back to the girls' cottage occupied by the student seconds, and then made his way to the administration building. Once there, he instructed Celiena on what needed to be done, and by whom, before he headed back home. Because almost a glass had passed, the girls were in bed, although he doubted they were sleeping. Alyna immediately poured them each a dark lager before they moved to the main-floor salon.

Trying to be faintly humorous as he settled into one armchair, Alastar said, “That's one glowbug viewing that Lystara and Malyna won't ever forget.” He took a slow swallow of the lager.

“We'll likely remember it more vividly, dearest.”

“You're probably right. We were fortunate … in more ways than one. Do you know which girl suggested concealments so quickly?”

“Each said the other did.”

“Lystara put her shields to good use, but all of them, even Ilora and Davour, did well. Although those two had no business being there.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Just about that. I also told each of them separately that, if anything like that happened again, they'd get double the disciplinary punishment. I'll need to have Akoryt note that.”

“Have him note it, but have him remove the note in a season if they're good.”

“That's probably better,” Alastar admitted. “Tonight worries me. More than a little. We don't have enough imagers, especially those with good shields, to patrol every yard of the riverwall, and with the river so high the wall itself doesn't provide as much protection as when the river is at its usual level, or lower.”

“After this, they may not try again … or not soon.”

“I hope you're right, but we'll still need regular patrols along the northern riverwall.”

“You know that the word will be all over the seconds and thirds by tomorrow afternoon about Malyna and Lystara?”

“I worry about that as well. It was bad enough that Malyna killed the one brown-shirt. I don't like the idea of the younger imagers seeing just how easy it is.”

“I wouldn't worry about Malyna. She's sensitive, but practical. She only did it when she saw Ilora was about to be attacked.”

“The good thing, if it can be called good, is that the brown-shirts don't have any idea how close they came to being successful.”

“They might have killed Davour. I'm not certain about Ilora,” replied Alyna. “If they'd come farther south, they would have reached us, and then the same thing would have happened. The walls here have stopped cannon shells.”

“Except it would have been messier, and Jienna and others would have been in danger.”

“That's true, but the result would have been the same from the point of view of the brown-shirts.”

Alastar wasn't so sure about that, but then Alyna had been as quick as he'd been, if not quicker, and she had certainly been deadly. “How was Lystara?”

“She was fine. She didn't even think about killing any of them. She just wanted to protect Ilora. Ilora has been friendly to Malyna.”

“Not too friendly, I hope.”

“Dearest, you can't worry about everything.”

“Isn't that the task of the Maitre?” he asked, not quite sardonically.

“Within reason, even if we do live in most unreasonable times.”

“I have to wonder just how many brown-shirt companies there are left around L'Excelsis.”

“You think they're that close?”

“They have to be. None of the dead brown-shirts had that much in the way of personal items. That tells me that they're quartered not all that far away.”

“You can't search every High Holder's estate around L'Excelsis.”

“No … but maybe something will happen that will suggest who might be quartering them.”

“Would the boat show anything?”

“I'd doubt it, but it's probably milles downstream by now. And if none of the brown-shirts we found had anything on them…”

“None of the bodies on the boat—if there are any left—would, either,” said Alyna.

“At the time, I didn't think about saving the boat.”

“You also can't think about everything when your daughter and niece are in the middle of a fight. I wouldn't have thought about saving the boat, either.”

Alastar took a long swallow from the beaker. The dark lager was good, he had to admit. “I just wonder how many High Holders are involved.”

“More than you know, and fewer than you fear.”

Fewer than you fear?
That wasn't much comfort, given that he feared hundreds of High Holders might join in the revolt if he and Wilkorn couldn't put down the rebels fairly quickly. He took another swallow of the lager. Then he frowned. “How did you come out in imaging poisoned bullets? I never did ask.”

“It's very time-consuming, and even I had to image against a template. Why?”

“Wilkorn's troops will be outnumbered when we meet the rebel regiments. If we had enough special bullets…”

“But poisoned bullets? In a full battle?”

“They started using them. Against students … children. I'm not feeling terribly charitable. I'd like to use the special bullets against High Holders and rebel officers.”

She nodded. “I'll see what we can do.” After a moment, she added, “You need to finish your lager … slowly … and then get some sleep. You have too many bruises … and don't tell me you don't.”

Alastar couldn't argue with that.

 

27

By Samedi morning, when Alastar and Alyna walked into the administration building slightly before seventh glass, Alastar was feeling much better than he had the evening before. A solid night's sleep, despite some disturbing dreams, followed by a good run that helped with the residual stiffness, a thorough washing-up—even if the shower was cold—and a solid breakfast, had left him in a much better frame of mind.

Much of that feeling departed when he saw a concerned-looking Cyran waiting for them outside his study. “I have the feeling I'm not going to like what you're going to tell me.”

“I won't like telling it,” replied Cyran dourly, “especially after what happened to you and your family last night.”

Maercyl and Dareyn exchanged worried glances, but neither spoke as Alastar gestured toward the study door. None of the three said a word until they were inside the study with the door closed, and Alastar looked to Cyran.

“The smaller problem is
Veritum
.”

“The newssheet?”

Cyran nodded. “The entire building burned down last night—all of the old port tower on the east side of the river where they print the newssheet. They have that … it's like a grape press, but they can make a hundred copies in a glass or so. I don't know how it works. The old fellow who was the watchman died in the fire. Heisyt says that two of the street urchins saw men in brown leave the building right before the flames came up. The fire brigade barely managed to save the River Inn. They wouldn't have been able to, except the river's still high and they could use the hand pumps and hoses.”

“No one else saw anything?”

“Celiena was the duty maitre, and she watched it to make sure it didn't spread, but there wasn't much that she could do from here, especially since the duty squad was dealing with bodies.”

Alastar understood that. Imaging water was difficult, especially in quantities and over any distance. “Has the newssheet gotten any threats?”

“Heisyt didn't know of any.”

“I'd wager that our High Holder rebels don't like the news that
Veritum
has been reporting.” If that were the case, it wouldn't have surprised Alastar. “And it's likely the attempted raid on Imagisle was also to keep us busy.”

“I'd thought that myself,” said Cyran.

“What else?”

“At some time around ninth glass last night, more of the shooters in brown uniforms attacked Factor Naathyn's factorage and coach works. They killed Naathyn and his wife and three of their children. Then they burned everything.”

“How does Heisyt know it was the brown-shirts?” asked Alyna.

“Some of the servants and an apprentice escaped. Heisyt's certain that it's because the Civic Patrol hasn't been able to find Naathyn's oldest. He's the one who slit Paellyt's son's throat.”