Madness in Solidar (9 page)

“I've met with Guerdyn, as a matter of courtesy, and I've requested meetings with the other four.”

“That's all? In four days, that's
all
you've accomplished? What are you doing? Sleeping until noon?” Ryen's voice rose slightly and hardened. “In four days? And why meet with all of them? You only need to meet with Nacryon and Haebyn.”

“If I don't meet with all of them, it will be obvious that you've already convinced Vaun and Moeryn, and that won't help your cause.”

“My cause? I'm the rex! Under the codex I set the tariffs! It's not a cause. It's my right!”

Not if they won't comply.
“You told me not to create a direct conflict. If I just barge in on them, that will do just that, and—”

“Four days! Namer-damn you, Maitre! Don't argue with me. Just do what I tell you, or your precious Collegium will suffer.”

Alastar did not press his point, but only asked mildly, “Are you telling me to threaten them or remove them, then?”

Ryen glared, and his face reddened. His body shook, and the unkempt lock of black hair slid down across his brow.

Alastar waited, not speaking.

“You don't need to meet with Vaun and Moeryn…” Every word sounded hard and forced.

“You don't, sir. I do. Otherwise, they'll feel I'm slighting them, and the Collegium cannot afford that, and neither can you. If they are not amenable to reason … well, then, we will have to take other steps, but trying reason first cannot hurt.”

“Then get on with it.”

“I am, sir.” If Alastar hadn't had the fortune and future of more than a hundred imagers and student imagers in his hands, most of whom could not even carry minimal shields, as well as the lives of those who worked for and served them, he might have been tempted to act precipitously …
But that's not the way to do it. It's better to work out the problems with Ryen as the foil … much better.
Especially since no one, not the High Holders, the factors, the marshal of the army, or the rex himself, either respected or was terribly pleased with the Collegium at the present time.
And you can't blame them … unfortunately.

Ryen shook himself, and then smiled, his voice almost cheerful as he said, “It will be a week or so before I complete arrangements for obtaining the property necessary for you and your imagers to build the direct road to the chateau. I'd like you to have them ready for that task.”

“They will be. Building a new avenue will likely take several weeks.”

“That long? It didn't take the first imagers that much time.”

“You're right, but they didn't have to take down buildings and worry about joining other roads. They just repaved and widened the existing roads.”

Surprisingly, Ryen just nodded.

“Is there anything else?”

“Should there be, Maitre?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Good. I look forward to hearing of your successes … before too long. You may go.” The rex turned back to the window.

Alastar let himself out of the study and walked slowly back to the grand staircase and then down to the main level and out to where the two imagers waited with his gelding.
It could have been worse.

 

6

Petros was the first imager maitre to appear outside Alastar's study on Solayi morning, simply because Alastar had requested his presence a half glass before that of the others.

“I've got the pack mule ready, sir, with the poles and the cordage, and some shovels and picks. Harrl and Kavan will help, too. If the paving stones are loose enough, they can just lift them away and stack them. That way, the others can do what can't be done without imaging.”

“Or without a passel of stonemasons and laborers. What else would you like to bring that I haven't thought about?” Alastar grinned briefly. “Not that I thought about any of that.”

“If we forget anything, I can send one of them back here. It's not that far.”

“Good enough. I'll see you shortly.”

Shortly after Petros had headed back to the stables, Akoryt appeared. “Might I ask, sir…?”

“You might, but I'd rather explain to all of those who will be joining us at the same time. Did you try out the pottery imaging?”

“I did.” The junior maitre smiled wryly. “You were right about trying it first. I did manage to work that part out, about not getting it to explode. Now … if I were only an artist.”

Alastar froze in place, for just an instant. Then he said in a low voice, “How big an explosion did you get at first?”

The young maitre frowned. “Big enough that I'd have needed a surgeon if I'd been standing within a few yards without shields.”

A few yards?
Alastar decided he should look into that possibility. “I'm glad you were careful. You'll have to be cautious if we decide to try that approach.'

“What approach?” asked Cyran, who had approached from the rear entrance to the building.

“Using imaging so that primes and seconds can create crockery,” explained Alastar.

“For training or actual use?”

“Both. If any of it's good, possibly for sale,” added Alastar blandly. “If you have any ideas along those lines, I'd be interested.”

“I'll have to think about it.”

Alastar nodded, then turned as Alyna and Tiranya entered the anteroom. They often came places together, since neither was married and they shared one of the cottages for maitres, although all the others were occupied by married couples. The unwed male maitres had rooms in the small masters' hall to the northwest of the anomen. The two were different in appearance, with the almost petite Alyna having slightly darker skin and light brown hair, set off by black eyes, while Tiranya had mahogany hair, a pale face sprinkled with freckles, and light green eyes. Tiranya was almost as tall as Alastar. That made her very tall for a woman, since only a few of the imagers were taller than the Maitre, although he reckoned himself only as slightly taller than most men. Khaelis and Mhorys followed the women, and then came Taryn, talking quietly with Cyran, followed by Desyrk and Akoryt, and the rest of the junior masters. The last to arrive was Obsolym, if by only a few moments.

Once the masters all stood in the anteroom, Alastar cleared his throat, loudly, and waited for the murmurs to die away. “I'm certain you all have wondered what is so urgent that it demands a meeting on Solayi morning. It is not urgent in that sense, but Solayi is by far the best time to do something that needs to be done, and something that apparently only imagers can do.” He kept his voice dry and sardonic as he went on deliberately, looking across the faces of the imagers. “All of you must have noted the stench arising from the east side of the river…”

Cyran raised his eyebrows, and Obsolym frowned. Several nodded.

“It appears as though,” Alastar continued, “if we wish to continue breathing without retching, we must address that matter ourselves. Maitre Petros and I have discovered where the sewer tunnel may be breached. We need to repair it. That is why I called you all together.”

“To fix the sewers the factors have ignored?” snorted Obsolym. “Why should we?”

“Because it will make our life more pleasant. Because it will reduce the animosity between the rex and the factors, and that will remove a problem for the rex. Because it will demonstrate that the Collegium cares for the well-being of others.” Alastar smiled coldly and looked directly at Obsolym. “And because I am the Maitre, and I've determined it is necessary.”

“You're…” Obsolym broke off his words. “Whatever you say, Maitre.”

“There are mounts waiting for you all by the stables.” Alastar gestured.

Although it was close to ninth glass when the imagers and the two husky laborers reached the part of the East River Road some three blocks south of the bridge where the stench hung over the area, the avenue was almost empty, as Alastar had hoped it would be on a Solayi morning.

While the imagers tied the mounts to various rails and protrusions from the riverside wall on the west side of the sidewalk bordering the East River Road, Petros imaged small holes in the mortar between the paving stones at each corner of an oblong that included the entire area of depressed paving stones, then imaged several others on the sides. His two assistants inserted thin poles into the holes and then strung cord from pole to pole, threading it through a notch in each pole, then looping and tying it. Then they placed poles in the gutter drains that bordered the area.

“We'll start by imaging away the mortar around the stones,” declared Alastar when all the cording and poles were in place, enclosing a space almost fifty yards long and five wide. “Shaelyt, why don't you see what you can do? Start with those blocks there.” Alastar pointed.

In less than a glass, the junior maitres and the two laborers had removed the sunken paving stones. Several local urchins were watching, if cautiously and from the sidewalks and the porch of a shop that was closed. So was an old woman in faded gray, who sat on the steps of a closed rope factorage, with a basket held together by cloth and cord set beside her sandals.

“Now it gets harder,” said Alastar. “Taryn, I'd like you to image out the gravel and soil and pile it outside the cordoned area, at least a yard back. Start at the north end.”

Taryn stepped forward, looking at the packed gravel that had underlain the stone, then concentrated. A pile of dirt and gravel appeared in the gutter.

“Don't block the drains, either,” Alastar added.

Another pile of dirt appeared at the end of the first pile, but Alastar shifted his attention from Taryn to two patrollers, wearing the brown and yellow of the factors' council. They walked slowly toward Alastar, finally stopping several yards short.

“Ah … master imager, sir…” began the shorter and older patroller.

“You'd like to know what all these imagers are doing in the middle of the East River Road on a Solayi morning?” asked Alastar cheerfully. “We're here to repair this part of the sewer, because no one else seems willing to do anything. Do you have any objection to that?”

The two exchanged glances. The older one spoke. “No, sir. How long might this take?”

“We'll have to see, but we chose Solayi in hopes we could finish today.”

The two looked at each other again. “You'll put the road back together?”

“We will.”

“Thank you, Maitre.” The older patroller inclined his head politely, and the two turned.

Alastar strained to listen as the patrollers walked back southward.

“Can't hurt to have 'em try … Stink just gets worse…”

“If it works…”

Taryn managed to create an opening some three yards wide, five long, and roughly a yard deep before he stepped back and glanced to Alastar.

“Desyrk, see if you can deepen that to the top of the sewer.”

“Yes, sir.” The handsome Maitre D'Structure walked to the edge of the imaged excavation, leaning over and peering down before beginning, but he managed to create a modest pile of dirt and rubble before Alastar could see him pause and rub his forehead.

“That's enough for you now. Akoryt, your turn. Keep deepening what's already there.”

Akoryt did somewhat less than Desyrk, but he did manage to image away enough of the overburden that Alastar could see—and smell even more strongly—that there was definitely a problem. First, the sewer wasn't as the records had shown, at least the part that the imagers had uncovered. Instead of being a tunnel cut out of bedrock and sealed or covered, it was a brick-walled ditch roughly two yards high and a yard and a half wide topped with paving stones mortared in place. Rather, they had been mortared, but there were only scraps of the mortar remaining, and there was sewer water outside the ditch walls oozing southward.

“Khaelis, you're next. Extend the excavation to the south. Keep it the same width.”

After Khaelis, Alyna stepped forward. As small as she looked to be, especially after the broad-shouldered Khaelis, Alyna removed even more overburden than he had, in fact considerably more than Taryn had, maintaining a determinedly pleasant expression as she did so. Tiranya followed, but she was unable to manage more than about half of what the smaller woman had done, and she was decidedly pale when she stepped back from the edge of the open pit.

More than two glasses passed before Shaelyt stood beside the southern end of the area that Petros had staked, imaging out the last of the mud and gravel. Despite the water that almost submerged the covered ditch, Alastar could see that some sort of work had been done, because there was what amounted to a crude dam on both sides of the sewer ditch designed to funnel the water into another far cruder covered ditch set lower in the ground and headed westward toward the river.

“When you finish clearing that, take a break. I need to look at something.” Alastar followed the line of the ditch until he reached the stone wall at the west side of the sidewalk along the river road. He leaned over the wall, ignoring the worst stench he had had encountered so far. Three yards down was a gap in the stone wall, and a small stream of liquid trickled out of the gap and down the stones to the marshy reeds growing between the wall and the clearer river water.

He straightened and shook his head, then walked back to the open excavation. “Some years back, someone decided that rather than fix a leak in the sewers, they'd just divert the sewage to the river. We're going to repair this section right.” He turned. “Obsolym, can you image one of those paving stones up and to the side? Beginning with the one just this side of that barrier?”

The older Maitre D'Structure nodded, imaging one paving stone, and then another. In all, he removed four before Alastar stepped forward and removed six in a row, then turned to Cyran.