Intrigues (55 page)

"Ah, encouragement at last," Sembrin pounced, having no trouble noticing that the last of Rolver's words had been on the reluctant side. "Who are these malcontents, and why are they unhappy?"

"There's a small group of people who expected to be really important in the new government," Rolver said slowly, again as if he chose his words carefully. "They came forward once the new Seated Blending took over, and tried to arrange things so that they would be really important and control access to the Blending. Somehow the new Blending found out about their plans and didn't let it happen. Now they badmouth everything going on, but the only ones who listen are the sort who are never happy with anything no matter
how
good it is."

"But those particular malcontents ought to know precisely what needs to be done to disenchant many others," Sembrin mused, his lips now curled into a smile of satisfaction. "Can you provide a list of names, and where those people might be found?"

"I'm afraid I don't know any of their names, and they tend to move around a lot," Rolver said, and this time there was no hesitation behind the words. "I'll be glad to look around a bit more carefully, and then come back with the list."

"Yes, I definitely want you to do that," Sembrin said after putting aside his teacup and getting to his feet. "I'll arrange for one of my men to pay you, and that man will be your contact. You and he can arrange for a place where you can meet, as I would prefer that you don't return here unless it becomes absolutely necessary. I'll be back in a moment."

Rolver nodded his agreement as Sembrin passed, and then Sembrin was out of the room and looking around. One of the guardsmen on duty wasn't far away, and Sembrin walked over to the man rather than calling the guardsman to him.

"I'm afraid that my visitor isn't one I ever want to see again," Sembrin murmured to the guardsman. "He'll expect to be paid by you when you take him outside, so make sure that he's given something both solid and sharp. You understand what I'm saying?"

"You're sayin' you want me to make a body," the man concluded flatly and quietly. "You care where that body ends up bein' buried?"

"Not in the least," Sembrin answered, pleased with the man's response. Rolver had once been a very effective agent, but now the man was clearly a convert to the new regime. Letting him live would be a mistake of vast proportions, as Rolver had obviously decided to learn what he could of Sembrin's plans before betraying him to the new "leaders." Now that betrayal would never come about, at least not through Rolver's efforts.

It took only a moment before Rolver was led away by the guardsman, ostensibly to be paid in silver. Instead the man would be paid in steel, and the problem of his loyalties would be settled with finality. Now all Sembrin had to do was find someone to locate those malcontents, assuming they were real.

But there had to be malcontents
somewhere
, and he was determined to find them. Sembrin smiled as he headed for the stairs to tell Bensia what he'd learned. He'd put the best face on the lack of true information, and hopefully the lovely dear would never notice. He was very much in the mood to relax - as soon as he took care of the matter of those servants, of course…

And he'd discovered earlier that Rimen Howser was gone from his room, possibly even from the house. Now where could
that
man have disappeared to…?

Driffin Codsent hurried through the house he'd been brought to by his guide, automatically noticing and listing every precious object he passed. He had no real designs on those objects, not anymore, but the habit was a hard one to break.

"I'm glad you got here so fast, Driff," Oplis Henden said as Driffin was led into a sitting room almost the size of the warehouse Driffin still lived in. And now people knew him by his real name, although his changing names on them had done no more than raised an eyebrow or two. "My people are fairly strong Earth magic users, but none of them has the talent for healing that you do."

Driffin no longer felt like blushing when Oplis Henden spoke about his talent for healing. Oplis was the one who had recruited Driffin for the clinic in his part of the city and also as an instructor for one of the new classes. Driffin had been in that class when he'd been sent for, and he hadn't wasted any time answering the summons. Oplis Henden was a High talent in Air magic who was also a member of one of the Blendings left in charge of the city, and the man didn't believe in wasting people's time.

"We've been able to keep him alive, but it's been a struggle," Oplis said as he gestured to the old man lying on the floor of the room. "That knife wound in his back should have killed him, and none of my people know why it didn't."

"Some of us have a stronger tie to life than others," Driffin muttered as he crouched beside the man on the floor, immediately beginning to look him over. "And this one looks like he has what to live for."

Driffin was referring to the man's clothing, which was obviously expensive despite its rumpled condition. But then awareness of everything but the man's health - or lack thereof - left Driffin, and he sank down into the process of pre-healing.

The man was now being kept alive only through the efforts of the Earth magic users in the room. The knife which had caused all the damage had somehow missed most of the man's vital organs, but one lung had been nicked and there was a lot of bleeding on the inside of the body. Driffin first stopped the bleeding and encouraged the body to begin making more blood, and then he turned his attention to the man's lung. The tear wasn't difficult to repair and the lung was able to function again, and after a last look around Driffin withdrew his attention.

"I've repaired the most serious damage, but it's going to be a while before this man is out of danger," Driffin said to Oplis as he straightened again. "He lost a very large amount of blood, and although I've set his body to replacing that loss he'll be very weak for some time. Do you have any idea who he is, or what he's doing in this house?"

"I'm not quite sure
who
he is, exactly, but I'm fairly certain I know
what
he is," Oplis answered with a mirthless smile. "Those clothes he's wearing tell me the man is a noble, and what he's probably doing here is hiding out. It was just his bad luck - or good luck, as it happens - that we came here today to gather up the house's valuables before someone breaks in and walks off with them. There are still a lot of projects that will need gold to get started, and these furnishings can be sold to give us that gold."

"Remind me to thank this particular noble once he's conscious again," Driffin said dryly, coming close to regretting having healed the man. The nobles in Driffin's life had never brought anything but pain and misery, and Driffin had always been more than ready to return the favor in kind. But healing was what he did now, and that no matter
who
the victim might have been…

"When this particular noble is conscious again, I have a number of questions to ask him," Oplis countered with a sound of faint amusement. "One of the first will be about the identity of the Spirit magic user who worked him over. My Blending brother in Spirit magic tells me that the man was so full of buried commands that it was a wonder he could remember to walk upright. If there's someone around who's strong enough - and mean enough - to do that, we want to know who it is."

"And I wish you luck in finding them fast," Driffin said as he glanced around. "The last thing we need around here are more manipulators, even if their victims are no one but nobles. They could decide to change targets at any time… Do you need me for anything else, Op? I have a class waiting for me to get back, and afterward I'm scheduled to try my hand at something new."

"Something new?" Oplis echoed, curiosity suddenly showing in the man's eyes. "Don't you have enough on your plate with teaching, keeping an eye open for other healers, and working in the clinic? What else are they making you take on?"

"No one is
making
me do it, Op," Driffin answered with a smile of amusement for his mentor's protective and almost outraged attitude. "It's a different kind of healing I want to try, working with someone strong in Spirit magic. Too many people are hurt in their minds rather than in their bodies, and it might be possible to repair the damage there as well. But I don't think I can do it alone, so I found a volunteer to try the experiment with me."

"Is that a real volunteer, or a volunteered volunteer?" Oplis asked, joining Driffin's amusement. "I don't know, but I think I may have created a monster. You'll let me know how the experiment goes? If it works, I can almost guarantee that you'll have earned a bonus in gold. Will you still talk to me once you become the richest man in the city? And when are you going to look into joining a Blending of your own?"

"Give me a break, Op," Driffin protested, not about to be cornered about the Blending question. "I'll look into other matters in my spare time, once I find a way to
have
spare time. And I'm not doing any of this for the gold, something you ought to know."

"I do know it, which is why
I'll
take care of getting you that gold," Oplis returned with a grin. "People who work for the common good need to be rewarded, so they'll be able to afford to
continue
working for the common good. We don't want you waking up one day and deciding that you wasted your life working for the benefit of others. You'll also have been working for your own benefit, yours and your family's. Or don't you plan to
have
a family?"

"Make sure your people are very careful when they move that man out of here," Driffin said, his family plans another topic he refused to discuss in public. "Have an Earth magic user standing by, to revive the man if moving him does damage. And next time I hope we meet under more pleasant circumstances."

And with that Driffin headed out of the room again, giving Oplis no chance to delay him even longer. He'd have to finish with his class before he could go on to the experiment, but then…

Chapter 31

Kail Engreath lay on his pallet in the large shed, listening to the others around him sleep. Surprisingly, the sounds of exhaustion seemed to be gone, and after only one day of complete rest. Or maybe the lack of exhaustion wasn't that surprising. They'd all been hardened on their journey from Gan Garee to wherever this was in Astinda. They hadn't been brought to a city, but to a fairly large town not far from the area of devastation.

"Good morning," a very soft voice said from the pallet to Kail's left. "And I believe that
is
morning I see beginning through the window. Do you think we'll have another day to do nothing but laze around?"

"I seriously doubt that we will," Kail answered just as softly, turning to his left so that he might speak more easily to Renton Frosh. "There's a lot of work to be done before the land we traveled through lives again, and I can't see the Astindans waiting any longer than absolutely necessary to get started."

"Have you noticed that we're still in the same group they formed after we buried those first poor people?" Renton asked, his expression more serious than usual. "I've been wondering what that means, assuming it means anything of any significance. Maybe I'm seeing a situation that doesn't exist except for pure chance."

"Actually, I think there
is
some sort of significance," Kail said, feeling his own frown of thought. "We were all assigned work on the trip here, but no one of our group was given the really nasty kind of thing to do. I think they gave us a chance to sort ourselves out that first time, and now they're making everyone live with what they chose."

"And those who chose to be uncaring and important are paying for their lack of compassion," Renton said with a nod. "My father always insisted that my softness would get me into real trouble some day. Compassion wasn't a trait that was well looked upon among our peers."

"Survival of the coldest," Kail muttered, still disturbed by his own memories. "Yes, my father felt the same and said so often enough, especially to me. I wonder if either of them has changed his mind by now."

"You've got to be joking," Renton scoffed with a small and mirthless laugh. "My father 'used the iron in his backbone' to climb over any noble who tried to get in his way to the top. Do you really think he'd waste a single thought on Astindan peasants?"

Kail was about to point out that Renton's father - and his own - weren't likely to be given any other choice, but their conversation was interrupted. An Astindan man came into the shed and rang a small bell, and everyone was immediately awake.

"It's time to begin the day," the Astindan said in the neutral voice they all seemed to use to their prisoners. "As soon as you're ready you'll be given breakfast, and then you'll be issued your assignments."

There was a mutter or two as everyone climbed out of their blankets, but the Astindan had already disappeared. There was no need for anyone to stand over the prisoners and bully them into motion, not when they had no choice but to obey. This time, though, Kail spent no time at all thinking about unfairness. Breakfast sounded good, and he wasn't tired enough to want to spend another day doing nothing but lying around. Today, he suspected, boredom would
not
be a problem.

Renton stopped to stretch once he was on his feet, and Kail couldn't help but notice how trim his friend looked. Renton had been pudgy for all the years Kail had known him, but the forced exercise and changed diet had done wonders. And little Belvis Drean, the man who had been so incensed over the treatment he'd been receiving… The man was still small, but no longer soft and overweight and always complaining. Kail couldn't remember a single word of complaint coming from Drean since the day they'd buried those poor murdered people.

"You're looking in top form, old son," Renton commented as they joined everyone else in filing out of the shed. "You weren't doing badly before, but now even your muscles have muscles. And believe you me, every lady in the place has noticed."