Treachery's Tools Read Online Free

to others, all too like his father in that regard.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œLet me know when the escorts are ready for me.” Alastar wasn’t exactly thrilled about a ride to the Chateau D’Rex in the rain that continued to rush down.
    By the time the two imager thirds arrived outside the main entrance to the administration building with Alastar’s mount, the rain had subsided slightly—from sheets of water to a mere steady downpour. Alastar donned his hooded oilskin and hurried toward the gray gelding—the second one he’d had since becoming Maitre, and another symbol of sorts.
    â€œGood morning, Maitre!” called out Konan, the slightly younger of the two thirds, his voice strong but respectful. The other escort, who nodded politely but did not speak, was Beltran, sober, dedicated, and actually a year or so older than Konan.
    â€œGood morning to you both,” returned Alastar, who had always appreciated Konan’s quiet solidity. He mounted quickly, and the three rode directly to the Bridge of Desires.
    As they crossed the River Aluse, Alastar not only checked to make sure that he was carrying full imaging shields, but also looked down at the water level, slightly higher than the day before, but still almost two yards below the top of the stone riverwall, a yard above the highest level recorded since the founding of the Collegium. The height of the riverwall and its solid structure were just additional reminders of the power and foresight of the first Maitre, whose name and exploits were already forgotten outside of Imagisle and remembered only hazily even by too many imagers.
    Once across the river, the three rode along the Boulevard D’Rex Ryen, although Alastar was more than happy that most people—with the strong exception of Rex Lorien—just called it the Boulevard D’Rex. The boulevard ended at the ring road that encircled the Chateau D’Rex, and less than half a quint later, Alastar reined up at the foot of the long white stone steps leading up to the main entrance of the chateau.
    â€œWait in the chateau stables,” Alastar said as he dismounted. “I’ll meet you there.”
    â€œYes, sir.” Konan actually grinned.
    Alastar made his way up the steps swiftly but carefully, mindful that he was no longer quite so young as he thought he was, a fact about which Alyna gently, but frequently, reminded him. While the hooded oilskin had kept his upper body and clothes largely dry, his trousers below the knees were soaked. He didn’t image them totally clear of water when he stepped into the entry hall of the chateau, but left them slightly damp.
    The two chateau guards looked surprised at his oilskin clad–figure, then nodded as they recognized Alastar.
    â€œRex Lorien is in his study, Maitre. Ah … we could take your oilskin.…” offered the shorter guard.
    â€œThank you. I would appreciate that.”
    Moments later, Alastar was climbing the grand staircase and then making his way eastward along the north corridor toward the rex’s private study, outside of which was stationed another guard.
    At Alastar’s appearance, the guard immediately rapped on the door. “The Maitre is here, sire.” Then he opened the door for Alastar, who entered the study.
    Lorien sat behind the modest goldenwood table desk, the same desk he had used almost every day since he had become rex. Set near the west end of the chamber was a circular conference table with four chairs, all also of goldenwood. The study was gloomy, illuminated by only a single brass lamp set in a wall sconce to the left of the rex. The matching lamp to the right was unlit. The rex motioned for Alastar to join him.
    As Alastar seated himself across from Lorien in one of the two straight-backed goldenwood chairs before the table desk, he noted, for the first time, scattered silver-gray hairs interspersed with the lank black hair that the rex had always