Read Online Imager's Challenge by L. E. Modesitt Jr. - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: L. E. Modesitt Jr.
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“What can you tell me about High Holder Ryel?”
“He has extensive lands well north of L’Excelsis. He has the controlling interest in several banques. Like all successful High Holders, he is never to be trusted.”
“Does he have a chateau here in L’Excelsis?”
“Did you not dance with his daughter at the Harvest Ball?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps I should have asked where it might be located, then.”
“The majority of High Holders have what others would call estates near major cities, such as L’Excelsis, Nacliano, or Liantiago. They do occasionally like to see the theatre and opera, or hear a concert. I believe Ryel has a less than modest establishment several milles north of Martradon. There are a number of others in that general area.”
“Does he have an extensive family?”
Maitre Dyana smiled wryly. “No High Holder survives an extensive family, and no extensive family survives a High Holder. Ryel had two sisters, one of whom died in childbirth, and the other of whom is married to a High Holder well to the west. I understand they do not speak. He had only one brother who died several years ago in a boating accident on the upper reaches of the Aluse. I believe there is one surviving nephew at this point.”
“Could Johanyr ever inherit?”
“No. The Council Compact is quite firm on that. No one ever declared an imager may inherit property . . . from anyone. If you are fortunate enough to amass some golds, you can buy property and bequeath it—except to an offspring who is an imager. If you marry a High Holder’s daughter, and she has property, none of that may pass to you, but it can pass to any offspring.”
I hadn’t realized that I’d never inherit anything from my family. I hadn’texactly expected to, but it was still strange to realize that I couldn’t. “Do daughters of High Holders inherit?”
“Very seldom. Daughters are at best often regarded as markers in the equivalent of a High Holder’s version of black-hand plaques.”
“Wives are not all that well treated, either, I understand.” I couldn’t help but recall the one I’d had to execute—covertly—in learning certain imager abilities. Her husband had beaten her repeatedly, and she’d finally murdered him. She’d been convicted and sentenced to death.
“You’d best eat and get on with matters, Rhennthyl,” Dyana added more gently. “As I told you when I first worked with you, technique is everything. Not power, but technique. That applies to covert actions and to High Holders.”
I had the feeling that I needed to consider her words carefully and at some length.
Vendrei was no different from the rest of the week, starting with exercises, although I was still not participating in the hand-to-hand sparring, but doing solitary knife and truncheon routines, followed by cleaning up, eating, and a long walk to Civic Patrol headquarters, and another day at the charging desk. I did have to admit that the duty with Gulyart had given me a good indoctrination into the myriad forms of petty and mundane violence seldom seen by most citizens of L’Excelsis. But then, that was doubtless the point.
On Samedi, once more, I dragged myself up and to Clovyl’s training and running session. By the time we finished the last of the exercises, it was pouring. We still had to run through the slop and puddles. For the first time ever, I beat Dartazn. Did that mean anything besides I ran better through water? I doubted it.
After a cold shower and shaving, I dressed and headed to the dining hall for breakfast, glad that I could at least use an umbrella crossing the quadrangle. I still hadn’t figured out a practical way to use imaging shields against rain. Maybe there wasn’t one. Master Dichartyn used an umbrella, I’d noticed.
There were no other masters present for breakfast, except for Ferlyn and Maitre Chassendri, both of whom were Maitres D’Aspect. Ferlyn and I sat on either side of her, since she was far
“He has extensive lands well north of L’Excelsis. He has the controlling interest in several banques. Like all successful High Holders, he is never to be trusted.”
“Does he have a chateau here in L’Excelsis?”
“Did you not dance with his daughter at the Harvest Ball?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps I should have asked where it might be located, then.”
“The majority of High Holders have what others would call estates near major cities, such as L’Excelsis, Nacliano, or Liantiago. They do occasionally like to see the theatre and opera, or hear a concert. I believe Ryel has a less than modest establishment several milles north of Martradon. There are a number of others in that general area.”
“Does he have an extensive family?”
Maitre Dyana smiled wryly. “No High Holder survives an extensive family, and no extensive family survives a High Holder. Ryel had two sisters, one of whom died in childbirth, and the other of whom is married to a High Holder well to the west. I understand they do not speak. He had only one brother who died several years ago in a boating accident on the upper reaches of the Aluse. I believe there is one surviving nephew at this point.”
“Could Johanyr ever inherit?”
“No. The Council Compact is quite firm on that. No one ever declared an imager may inherit property . . . from anyone. If you are fortunate enough to amass some golds, you can buy property and bequeath it—except to an offspring who is an imager. If you marry a High Holder’s daughter, and she has property, none of that may pass to you, but it can pass to any offspring.”
I hadn’t realized that I’d never inherit anything from my family. I hadn’texactly expected to, but it was still strange to realize that I couldn’t. “Do daughters of High Holders inherit?”
“Very seldom. Daughters are at best often regarded as markers in the equivalent of a High Holder’s version of black-hand plaques.”
“Wives are not all that well treated, either, I understand.” I couldn’t help but recall the one I’d had to execute—covertly—in learning certain imager abilities. Her husband had beaten her repeatedly, and she’d finally murdered him. She’d been convicted and sentenced to death.
“You’d best eat and get on with matters, Rhennthyl,” Dyana added more gently. “As I told you when I first worked with you, technique is everything. Not power, but technique. That applies to covert actions and to High Holders.”
I had the feeling that I needed to consider her words carefully and at some length.
Vendrei was no different from the rest of the week, starting with exercises, although I was still not participating in the hand-to-hand sparring, but doing solitary knife and truncheon routines, followed by cleaning up, eating, and a long walk to Civic Patrol headquarters, and another day at the charging desk. I did have to admit that the duty with Gulyart had given me a good indoctrination into the myriad forms of petty and mundane violence seldom seen by most citizens of L’Excelsis. But then, that was doubtless the point.
On Samedi, once more, I dragged myself up and to Clovyl’s training and running session. By the time we finished the last of the exercises, it was pouring. We still had to run through the slop and puddles. For the first time ever, I beat Dartazn. Did that mean anything besides I ran better through water? I doubted it.
After a cold shower and shaving, I dressed and headed to the dining hall for breakfast, glad that I could at least use an umbrella crossing the quadrangle. I still hadn’t figured out a practical way to use imaging shields against rain. Maybe there wasn’t one. Master Dichartyn used an umbrella, I’d noticed.
There were no other masters present for breakfast, except for Ferlyn and Maitre Chassendri, both of whom were Maitres D’Aspect. Ferlyn and I sat on either side of her, since she was far
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