“I will leave you ladies.” He looked to Tyrena. “Did you leave retainers somewhere?”
“They are waiting in the main entry.”
“I will let them know that it will be a time before you return.” He nodded and left the study, not without wondering what might transpire.
Once away from the two, he walked swiftly to the main entry, where he found two guards and an older woman. “Lady Tyrena is meeting with Lord Bhayar’s sister at the moment. It may be a glass or so before she returns.”
All three nodded.
Quaeryt left them and returned to the clerks’ study, where he spent a quint going over the summary reports from Deucalon. There was no mention of expenditures by Myskyl. Quaeryt hadn’t expected any entries, but there was always the possibility.
Then he returned to the study that held the two ladies.
Vaelora immediately said, “I had Lady Tyrena add a few items to her petition. I thought that, should she remarry, the lands would still go to her daughter.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem…”
“You need to sign next to me,” added Vaelora.
At the end of the petition, beneath Tyrena’s signature, was a single sentence that bore Vaelora’s perfect penning: “Approval of the petition of Lady Tyrena D’Ryel-Alte is recommended.”
Quaeryt signed beside his wife, then imaged his seal beside hers.
Beneath their signatures was another short line. “It is so ordered, in spring after the fall of Variana to Lord Bhayar of Telaryn, this day of 13 Avryl.”
“We should present the petition, and Lady Tyrena, to Lord Bhayar while he is present in the chateau,” announced Vaelora, stepping back from the desk.
Although Quaeryt had not intended to do that, he could see Vaelora’s point. “Shall we go, Ladies?”
None of the three spoke until they reached the ranker by Bhayar’s door. The ranker looked to Quaeryt.
“Commander Quaeryt, Lady Vaelora, and Lady Tyrena D’Ryel-Alte.”
The ranker repeated the names, then opened the study door at Bhayar’s gruff, “Have them enter.”
The three advanced to where Bhayar stood beside the conference table.
“Lord Bhayar, might I present Tyrena D’Ryel-Alte, the widow of the late Ryel D’Alte, High Holder of lands near Rivages.”
Tyrena curtsied gracefully. “Lord Bhayar.”
Vaelora presented the petition. “There is but one heir, a daughter, and according to your instructions, the petition requests the lady be appointed as guardian until her daughter is married, and that the lands follow the bloodline of Ryel and Lady Tyrena.”
Bhayar took the petition, read through it carefully, then walked to his desk and signed it, then applied his seal. “Hold the lands in allegiance, Lady, and all will be well.”
“That I can do, Lord Bhayar, in full faith and thanks.” Tyrena curtsied deeply. “As I can, I will speak of your sense of fairness and justice.”
Bhayar looked to Vaelora, who stepped forward and took the sealed petition, and murmured almost voicelessly, “Thank you.”
“We will not take more of your time, sir,” said Quaeryt, inclining his head.
Bhayar smiled, then added, “I trust your return to Ryel will be peaceful, Lady, and give my greetings to your daughter.”
“I will indeed, Lord, with gratitude.”
The three left the study and walked down to the main entry. The two guards in black and silver livery looked relieved to see Tyrena, as did the older woman, also in black and silver.
Tyrena looked to Quaeryt, then to Vaelora. “I cannot thank you enough. One hopes for justice, but one cannot always expect it.”
“Lord Bhayar has always attempted to be just,” replied Quaeryt.
“It helps greatly when those who serve a ruler also believe in justice. That has seldom been the case in Bovaria, but I can hope that it will be so now.” Tyrena curtsied once more, then stepped back.
While Tyrena’s voice was firm, Quaeryt thought he saw a slight brightness in the eyes of the former Khanara.
As Quaeryt and Vaelora walked back toward the ministry studies, he asked, “How was your conversation with Tyrena?”
“You are a very naughty man, dearest.”
“Why?”
“Because you neglected to mention who she was … or to inform her who you are.”
“I told you her name—” Quaeryt couldn’t help but grin, even as Vaelora interrupted him.
“Dearest … that was most disrespectful. I didn’t tell her that.” She paused. “What did Bhayar say before you met with her?”
“I didn’t tell him who she was, except that she was Ryel’s widow. I wasn’t sure, not until I met her.”
“He’ll find out, sooner or later.”
“Possibly, but I doubt she’ll ever set foot in Variana again. She’ll raise her daughter and pay her tariffs and rebuild her holding.”
Vaelora nodded. “You may be right … this time.”
“What did she ask you?”
“That is between us. You did impress her, though.”
“And that’s not disrespectful—”
“Impressing other women might fall in that category…”
“Not unintentionally,” Quaeryt mock-protested.
Vaelora smiled sweetly, then grinned.
27
After a quiet dinner in their quarters, Vaelora set down the glass of red wine that she had barely touched and asked, “What did Tyrena say about Myskyl?”
“That he inspected the hold at Ryel like a tariff inspector…” Quaeryt went on to relate that short conversation word for word, at least as he recalled it.
“So Myskyl has just been sitting a few hundred milles away for two seasons, doing nothing?”
“Nothing except drilling his troops, meeting with lots of High Holders, and living off the land, collecting tariffs … and not telling your brother anything. That doesn’t make sense unless he’s planning something.”
“Because he knows that you could destroy him if he were to try something like Rescalyn did, you mean?”
Quaeryt nodded. “But he hasn’t done anything overt. He could claim that he is carrying out Bhayar’s wishes, meeting with High Holders, obtaining the token tariffs, and keeping his regiments in fighting shape.”
“But he hasn’t sent any dispatches.”
“No. We don’t know that. We know Bhayar hasn’t received any.”
“You don’t think Deucalon is keeping them from Bhayar? That he’s the one planning something?”
“I don’t know what to think. I’ve never trusted either one, but I trust Myskyl less.”
“What if it’s all a ploy to get you and the imagers away from Bhayar?”
“To set up something like what happened to Skarpa?”
“That’s possible.”
Quaeryt frowned. “I could be wrong, but … Aelina and Clayar are in Solis. If anything happens to Bhayar, Deucalon and Myskyl would know that we and the imagers would support Clayar.”
“Unless you’re not around to support him,” Vaelora pointed out. “Most of the senior officers are beholden to Deucalon, except for Pulaskyr and Paedn…”
And one is in Antiago, and you’ve recommended Bhayar send the other to Solis.
“… Half your imagers are elsewhere. You’ve only got the youngest and those that aren’t that strong. Without you, with the imagers scattered…”
“That would mean that there’s a plot against Bhayar and me.”
“Possibly just against you, dearest. What options would Bhayar have without you and the imagers? Would he not have to treat with Myskyl and Deucalon?”
“So … what do I do if Bhayar asks me to go see what is happening with Myskyl? I can’t exactly charge Myskyl and Deucalon with plotting. There’s no evidence of that, and I don’t think we’ll find any here in Variana, even if they’re up to their necks in something. And I’m the one who suggested I might have to go look into Myskyl’s lack of action.”
“There’s no point in taking Horan or Baelthm. Baelthm isn’t that good a combat imager, and he can be helpful here. And you know I promised Horan…”
Vaelora frowned.
“What about you? Who will protect you?”
“If they’re plotting against you, dearest, they’ll have to leave Bhayar’s family alone … for now.”
Except in time, “accidents” and illnesses would befall you all. “You’d think they’d wait. Khel hasn’t agreed to terms.”
“Do you think they care?” retorted Vaelora disgustedly. “Myskyl and Deucalon would prefer a campaign that crushes Khel. They feel that you and Bhayar are making things too easy for the Khellans. An all-out war would make them feel better … and they could pit the remaining imagers against the Khellan Eherelani and Elani in a way so as to remove the threat of the imagers.”
“What should we tell Bhayar, then?” asked Quaeryt.
“Just what Tyrena said.”
“There’s not that much, but I’d like to see his reaction. He has a good feel for things, and he knows Deucalon far better than I do.”
“But not Myskyl.”
“I’m not sure anyone truly knows Myskyl, maybe not even Myskyl himself.” But then, do any of us truly know ourselves? Quaeryt paused. “Now … what did you two really talk about? You and Tyrena?”
“Her petition, of course.”
“Just her petition?”
“That was what she was there for.” Vaelora smiled mischievously.
Quaeryt sighed. Loudly.
“We talked over the petition. As I told you, I suggested she add the words about remarrying.”
“And then what?”
“A little bit, just a bit, about you. She wanted to know if you were the commander who defeated Kharst.”
“And you told her?”
“I said that you were the one who defeated Kharst twice and Aliaro once and forever. She said that she thought it had to be you because no one else would dare speak for Bhayar.”
“Except you. What else did she say?”
“She was surprised that you knew who she was almost as soon as she spoke.”
“I was fortunate that I remembered…” Quaeryt broke off his words as he recalled what Skarpa had said about his using phrases containing the word “fortunate.” He was right about that … and many other things.
“What is it, dearest? You had the strangest look.”
“I just remembered how Skarpa told me how he distrusted my statements that I was just fortunate. Sometimes, I just was, but he was doubtful.”
“His death still bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” It likely always will. “Was there anything else?”
“She said that being at Ryel was like being in a large prison, but better than being executed. That was about it.”
“Did she say any more about Myskyl?”
“Not directly. She’s tried to avoid getting involved with anyone in anything more than a cursory fashion since she came to Bovaria. I got the feeling that she and Ryel weren’t getting along that well. She did say that all the tales about Kharst were true, and that there were worse. Ryel sometimes told her horrible stories about the man. He seemed to find them amusing, she said. She said there was one about an imager … and a chastity belt, but she just shook her head. She didn’t tell whatever it was.”
“So there was at least one imager.”
“I asked if she knew what happened to the imagers. She doesn’t know. She never met any of them.”
“I still wonder who else might know anything.”
“Knowing isn’t enough. We have to know who they are, and it would be helpful if they were inclined to talk to us.”
“Who else…” Quaeryt froze. “Taelmyn D’Alte, Mistress Eluisa’s father … and her younger sister Rhella.”
“I didn’t know you knew her family.”
“I don’t. Rather, I didn’t. That was in the dispatch from Straesyr that Gauswn brought. I read it moments before I got the dispatches from Alazyn and Voltyr about Skarpa’s death. I’d forgotten about that.” Quaeryt offered a rueful smile. “I was somewhat distracted, you might recall. Anyway, Straesyr wrote that Eluisa had sent her best and asked us to contact her father and sister … if they survived Kharst and the battles.”
“Where would we start? We don’t even have a complete listing of High Holders.”
“There have to be some High Holders who would know. Even some factors. Taelmyn had to have had a house or holding around Variana, because Eluisa’s sister had to have been close enough for Kharst to notice her.”
“Not necessarily.”
“You’re right … but he had to have a holding close to Variana … or on a river. Those were the only ones Kharst visited, and Taelmyn wouldn’t have presented them unless he had to, meaning that Kharst already knew of them. That wouldn’t be the case if the holding were hard to get to. That should limit the possibilities.”
“I can have the clerks go over the records and have them make a few inquiries.”
“I’d like to meet Taelmyn and Rhella before Bhayar sends me off.”
“He might not do that immediately.”
“And he might.”
Quaeryt didn’t have an answer for that.
28
What with one thing and another, Vaelora and Quaeryt did not get to sleep early on Vendrei evening and slept somewhat later on Samedi morning, not more than a glass, but that was enough that by the time Quaeryt had dressed and eaten, Bhayar had left on a morning ride through the hunting park to the south and west of the Chateau Regis.
Rather than wait for Bhayar’s return, Quaeryt gathered up the dispatch to Subcommander Ernyld he had written the afternoon before and then saddled the black gelding and rode to the headquarters holding. There he had one of the duty rankers deliver the dispatch to the subcommander, directing the ranker to inform Calkoran and Khaern that he wished to meet with them. Zhelan had already left for Imagisle with the imagers and first company.
The ranker had barely left when there was a perfunctory knock on the door of the small study, and the door opened immediately to reveal Marshal Deucalon. The wiry, gray-haired officer stepped inside the study and closed the door.
“Marshal.” Quaeryt immediately stood.
“Greetings, Quaeryt. Somehow, we’ve largely missed seeing each other in quite some time, and I thought I’d stop by to see how matters are coming.” Deucalon’s smile was warm, both on his lips and in his eyes.
“Lord Bhayar has kept me busy, sir.” Quaeryt smiled. “As I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Subcommander Ernyld showed me the dispatch you sent him this morning. I must say that I’m impressed with your speed and diligence in meeting with the chief factor.” Deucalon hesitated just an instant before continuing. “Do you think your suggestions will have an effect?”
“I would think so, but if they don’t, then we’ll take stronger measures, and we’ll point out to the factors that they were warned.”
The marshal nodded. “It’s always best to allow someone the opportunity to do the right thing first … before taking stronger action.”
“You’ve made that point before, sir, by your considered acts.”
“You’re most generous in your words, Quaeryt.”
Quaeryt thought about asking about Myskyl, then immediately decided against it. That would only alert Deucalon, if he were part of what Quaeryt believed Myskyl was doing, and would accomplish nothing if Deucalon were not—although Quaeryt had his doubts about that. “I try to be both honest and accurate in my words.”
“I have noticed that. So has Submarshal Myskyl.”
“Thank you, sir.” Quaeryt ignored the opening to ask about Myskyl.
“I understand that we have your imagers to thank for the better roads around the Chateau Regis and the improved pavement on the roads to the Nord and Sud Bridges over the river. Will Lor
d Bhayar be having you do more road improvements or will they be working on building that compound on the isle of piers?”
“He has given them several tasks, sir. We’ve also improved the entrance and access to the Chateau Regis and rebuilt the west river road all the way from the Nord Bridge to the Sud Bridge.”
“Your undercaptains have been busy, it seems.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re not with them as much these days.”
“No, sir. Lord Bhayar has asked me to devote time to rebuilding and replacing the administrative structure of the rex … except we’ve discovered that there wasn’t that much even before the Chateau Regis was damaged. Telaryn is far better organized than was Bovaria—at least Bovaria under Rex Kharst.”
“Yet he had many troopers,” said Deucalon skeptically.
“That was where all his golds went, sir. The Great Canal was in poor repair, and no work to speak of has been done in years on any of the roads we have traveled. He trusted the factors to collect tariffs, and spent them all on either his own pleasures or on his troopers.”
Deucalon nodded. “That would explain much.” He shook his head. “I will not keep you longer. I just wished to see how you were doing.” Another pause followed. “How soon do you think it will be before Lord Bhayar hears from the Khellan High Council? It’s been, what, well over a season since you met with them.”
“Several weeks at the earliest, I would suspect. They needed to inform their local councils, and that would take a good month for the exchange of dispatches, and it would take a month to send an envoy here. That would be if everything went smoothly. As we both know, that seldom happens.”
“Midsummer, at the earliest, you think?”
“Sir, I’m not about to guess. I do believe that the Khellans will agree to terms. I also believe that hammering out those terms will take some time.” And certain short-term concessions if you want to avoid a bloody war.
Deucalon nodded. “That was true in Tilbor as well. Myskyl has pointed that out.”
“He would know. He was there and saw it all happen.”
“He did indeed.” After a moment Deucalon smiled. “I’ll leave you to your various duties, Quaeryt. It’s good to see you.”
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