“Thank you, sir.”
After Deucalon left, Quaeryt wanted to shake his head. The marshal’s immediate response to the dispatch, within less than a quint from when Ernyld had to have received it, certainly indicated how closely, if indirectly, Deucalon was observing Quaeryt and the imagers.
Several moments later there was a rap on the door.
“Come in.” Quaeryt remained standing.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” offered Calkoran as he entered the study, “but was that the marshal we saw?”
“It was. He came to see how we’re doing. He was very pleasant and complimentary.”
Khaern, following the Khellan subcommander, raised his eyebrows, but did not comment.
“What do you have for me?” asked Quaeryt, gesturing toward the chairs and seating himself behind the desk.
“We’re almost caught up on reshoeing the regiment’s mounts…”
Once he finished hearing the reports from the three, Quaeryt made his way to the courtyard, where he mounted the gelding, and he and four rankers rode to Imagisle, where he observed the progress the imagers were making. Over the past week, the three stronger imagers had already added another half mille of granite river wall as well as laid down the basic stone roads for the isle. After Horan had strengthened the walls and foundations earlier in the week, and Lhandor had re-imaged the roof tiles into solidity, Baelthm had begun to repair the anomen bit by bit.
After talking to Zhelan about detaching a squad to accompany Baelthm, since first company had the duty of guarding the imagers and patrolling the isle, Quaeryt reined up outside the anomen roughly two quints before eighth glass.
At the sound of mounts, Baelthm had hurried from inside and come to meet Quaeryt.
“You’ve already improved the anomen considerably,” Quaeryt offered, gesturing to the flat stone front of the building, which appeared as it might have a century earlier, or whenever the structure had been built. The oak doors were golden again, and level, with the ironwork shimmering dark gray, the dark stone steps smooth and crisp. The two windows flanking the door … Quaeryt frowned. “The windows…”
“Yes, sir. Lhandor and I thought they were too low and too small. We made them a bit wider and taller. Not enough to weaken the wall, but enough to let more light in. Did the same with some of the others on the sides.”
“What are you working on inside?”
“Refinishing the walls. I can image a lot these days … if I just do it in smaller bits. Still be a while before I finish here…”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to undertake another quick duty that will take a good portion of the day.”
“Sir?”
“The head chorister of the Anomen Regis has requested that the imagers repair damages to the Anomen D’Variana. Before we can commit to that, I’d like to know just how severe those damages are. You seem to know about the basics of construction. Major Zhelan will be detaching a squad to escort you there. It’s across the river and south of Imagisle, but not so far as the Sud Bridge. Make a careful inspection and take your time. Then, later today, after you return to the headquarters holding you can brief me on what you’ll need to do.”
“Yes, sir.” The older imager frowned, if slightly.
“Neither I nor, I presume, Lord Bhayar wishes to commit to anything such as the chorister’s request without knowing what fulfilling that request will require.”
“I can see that, sir. I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you.”
After seeing Baelthm and third squad off, Quaeryt rode back to the Chateau Regis by taking the river road north to the north road west—a route that was a good mille shorter than by the south road from the Sud Bridge.
When Quaeryt reached the Chateau Regis and walked the gelding into the stable, he asked the stable boy who came to take his mount, “Do you know if Lord Bhayar has returned from his ride?”
“Yes, sir. Two quints ago … about that, I’d say.”
“Thank you.”
From the stable, Quaeryt crossed the side courtyard and then made his way to the ministry study.
Vaelora looked up from a stack of papers as he entered.
“How did everything go?”
“I had the dispatch delivered to Ernyld. Within a fraction of a quint, Deucalon was at my study, saying it was good to see me and giving me a backhanded compliment for being so prompt and attentive to Ernyld’s concerns.”
“That wasn’t all, I take it?”
“No. He inquired about what the imagers were doing, insinuating that they might be better used for road projects than on building a compound on Imagisle. He brought up Myskyl twice, and I didn’t ask a thing … and then he asked about when the Khellan High Council might reply to Bhayar. He didn’t seem all that worried that their envoy might not arrive until after midsummer.”
“I don’t like any of that, especially his reaction to the Khellan response.”
“Neither do I, but I don’t think it’s something we can bring up to Bhayar.”
Vaelora shook her head. “Not unless there’s something more. It’s one thing to voice concerns about Myskyl, but Deucalon’s done nothing to merit distrust.”
“Except support Myskyl…” At Vaelora’s expression, Quaeryt said, “I know. I know. And you’re right.”
“Yes, dearest. Brother dear does give the benefit of the doubt, even when sometimes he shouldn’t. If he didn’t, we wouldn’t be together.”
Again, that was a point Quaeryt wasn’t about to argue. “After Deucalon left, I went over things with Khaern and Calkoran, then inspected the work at Imagisle. Baelthm’s on his way to the Anomen D’Variana.”
“For all that Deucalon said to you, he and Ernyld won’t be happy with your just talking to the head factor. He’ll want an assurance of lower prices.”
“I pointed out that we have to request first, and Deucalon agreed, and then said something along the lines of it being better to allow someone to choose what was the wisest course—”
“He said that?”
“He did, but I think he knows Bhayar would be unhappy if we demanded lower prices immediately.”
“It’s also another message,” Vaelora said.
“I know, but it’s so seemingly innocuous. I can’t say that I would expect anything different.”
Vaelora shook her head, then said, “While you were gone, I went through what records we have. There is a Taelmyn D’Alte in the listing of High Holders who have paid their token tariffs to Bhayar. The listing only states that his holding is east of Variana. I sent Hullyt out to make further inquiries.”
“Thank you. Shall we go see your brother and inform him of what Lady Ryel said?”
“We should. I’m not looking forward to it.”
“That makes two of us.”
They left the study and walked up the grand staircase to the second level, and then along the west corridor to the study, where the duty guard announced them and opened the study door.
Bhayar turned from where he stood by the northernmost window, which was open, but did not speak.
“How was your ride?” asked Quaeryt.
“Pleasant enough, if warm.” Bhayar looked from Quaeryt to Vaelora. “You’re here as well. What unpleasant news do you two have to convey?”
Vaelora nodded to Quaeryt.
“You might recall that you approved the guardianship of Lady Ryel yesterday?”
“Yes?” Bhayar’s voice was wary.
“Her holding is near Rivages, and in addition to hearing about her position as a widow, we asked her a number of questions about what she has observed since last fall. We thought you should know what she has seen. Vaelora and I talked to her separately, of necessity. What she told me was that Submarshal Myskyl has visited many of the high holdings near Rivages…” Quaeryt related all that Tyrena had told him, then stopped and waited.
Bhayar was frowning, but he nodded to his sister. “What did she tell you?”
“Some o
f what she told Quaeryt. What she also said was that Myskyl had spent most of his time with the widow of High Holder Fiancryt. He keeps all his regiments close to Fiancryt, although he has sent small parties with commanders in charge to visit many high holdings. He gathered extensive supplies over the late fall and the winter, and his officers met with a number of the wealthier factors. There were also some repairs or changes to the hold house at Fiancryt, although Lady Ryel had no idea what was involved, except that she wondered if a powder magazine were being constructed, since a certain amount of iron plate was carted to the hold house.”
“How did she know that?”
“The Ryel holdings include an interest in the local ironmongery.”
“What else?”
“Dispatch riders left or returned to the Fiancryt lands several times a week. She had no idea where the riders were headed or from where they came, except that they always wore Telaryn colors.”
“Nothing more than that?”
“Oh … she did say that Kharst was far, far worse than the stories about him, and that she was less than pleased in the way that the High Holders bowed to him, but that they felt they had no choice. In the ten years she was married to Ryel, she knew of at least five high holdings that were destroyed, with the entire families executed. As we surmised as a result of our mission, the factors were indeed agents of the rex, and often provided information to him.”
“Dispatch riders several times a week? Do you think she’s telling the truth?”
“Why would she not?” replied Vaelora. “I asked what she knew and had seen. That was what she told me.”
Bhayar shook his head. “This is troubling. Myskyl has done largely what he was sent to do. He has met with the High Holders. He’s collected the token tariffs, and he has kept his forces in readiness.”
“He has not sent those golds to you,” Vaelora said, “and you have not received any dispatches in more than a season.”
“Has Deucalon?” asked Quaeryt.
“He says not.” Bhayar looked to Quaeryt. “What do you think? I know you don’t trust Myskyl, but he’s done nothing disloyal, and certainly, for all his caution, Deucalon has not.”
So far … and that we know. “Myskyl has never trusted me, sir, but, as you say, the only evidence that something untoward is occurring is that he has not reported in months, and that he has enough dispatch riders to send them off often … and that he has not sent the High Holder tariffs—and any tariffs he may have collected from factors—to you. I might add that Subcommander Meinyt has managed regular dispatches. On the other hand, Submarshal Myskyl may have felt that the winter was too severe, or he may have sent them, and they have not arrived.” Quaeryt paused. “You also know how I feel about the ties between Commander Kharllon and the submarshal … and what happened in Liantiago.”
“I’m well aware of those feelings.” Bhayar paused, then asked, “What would you do in my place?”
“I would send a small force to discover what has happened. One large enough that if some uprising has occurred at least a full squad of riders could return and report. If nothing has occurred, the officer in command could point out that the lack of communications necessitated a modest force so that you could be apprised of the situation, one way or the other.”
“That means you, I suspect. And a few imagers.”
“A few. Not all of them. Some need to remain here to undertake work.”
“On your Imagisle?”
“Not just on it, I fear. More and more requests are arriving at the Ministry of Administration, as you know. Some of them may require at least token imaging.”
“You seem to have created a bit of a problem for yourself and the imagers, haven’t you, Quaeryt?”
“For the next few weeks or months, sir.”
“You won’t get out of it that easily.” Bhayar shook his head. “I need to think things over. I’ll let you know by Lundi. You don’t have anything else in the way of facts to add to what you’ve said, do you? Facts … or other solid indications.”
Quaeryt caught the quick look from Vaelora. “No, sir.”
“Until later, then.” Bhayar turned back toward the window.
Neither Quaeryt nor Vaelora said much until they returned to their private ministry study.
“He was rather short with us,” observed Quaeryt after he shut the door.
“He was upset. Deucalon and Myskyl served Father, and they’ve served him. He can’t see why they’re acting the way they have. Oh … I know power or the temptation of it changes people, but Bhayar always thought fair and firm treatment would keep people loyal, and now he’s worried that it won’t. He won’t dither, but he needs some time to think it through alone. If we’d said more, he would have felt we were pushing, and his reaction would be to delay deciding. It would help if Aelina were here.”
“I told him to send for her, and to send Pulaskyr to Solis as the regent of Telaryn or some such.”
“He can’t do that yet, dearest.”
“Why not?”
“He doesn’t think Variana is safe enough for her. If we’re right, it isn’t.”
Quaeryt couldn’t disagree with that, although he couldn’t help observing that Bhayar had less compunction about risking his sister.
“That brings up another question,” said Vaelora softly. “If he does send you, who will you take?”
“Khalis, Lhandor, and Elsior. I promised Horan he wouldn’t have to do battle imagining. Given how he feels about it, he’d be limited. Between them, he and Baelthm can handle most imaging. If necessary, Horan has strong shields, and he could protect the Chateau Regis.”
“You don’t think it will come to that, do you?”
“Not so long as Bhayar remains healthy and alive. Even the senior officers beholden to Deucalon and Myskyl would balk at an attack on Bhayar. But if Bhayar dies in an accident or of illness, Deucalon will certainly step forward to hold together what the great Lord Bhayar has unified. If you can, persuade Bhayar never to eat with Deucalon except at his own table here at the chateau.”
“You want me…”
“He’s far more likely to listen to you than me about poisons and intrigue.”
Vaelora nodded dubiously. “I said this earlier, but what if all this is designed just to get you away from Variana?”
“That’s possible, even likely, but Myskyl’s being insubordinate. You heard your brother. He’s ignoring dispatches. If Bhayar can’t bring him into line, then Decaulon will have reason to supplant Bhayar.”
“That means they’re both in this together.”
“I don’t see how it could be otherwise.” Quaeryt paused, then added, “Although they could be playing each other off.”
“Even if they are, Deucalon can’t take over from Bhayar without killing him if you’re alive.”
“He can if we do nothing. What happens when tariff time comes, and no tariffs come in? Kharllon may well be in on this plot as well.”
“We don’t even know if there is a plot, dearest.”
“No … we don’t. But if it waddles like a goose, hisses like a goose, and has a nasty disposition like a goose … then it’s probably a goose.”
A knock on the study door punctuated Quaeryt’s words.
“Yes?”
“Lady, sir, it’s Hullyt.”
“Come in.”
The dark-haired clerk entered with a broad smile on his square face. “Lady, I found where High Holder Taelmyn is. Or where his mansion in Variana is…”
Vaelora nodded.
“His holding proper is fifty to sixty milles east northeast of Variana off what they call the old pike road where it crosses the Lusee River. His city place is two milles outside Variana on the east pike beyond the Saenhelyn Road.”
Vaelora and Quaeryt exchanged glances, Quaeryt’s expression reflecting that he had no idea what those directions meant.
“We’re not terribly familiar with the east side of Variana, Hullyt,” said Vaelora. “Could you draw a ro
ugh map of where the city mansion is?”
“Yes, Lady. It sounds hard, but it’s not. You just follow the Boulevard D’Este from the Nord Bridge until you reach Saenhelyn Road—that’s where all sorts of roads and streets come together, and some folks say that there ought to be a plaza there, but there’s not…” The clerk paused, then said, “Best I draw it out.”
“Did the people you talked to have any idea about the High Holder?”
“No, Lady … well, excepting that he must be alive, because they’re delivering goods and one of ’em saw him last week.”
“How long would it take to ride there?” asked Quaeryt.
“Two glasses, maybe a bit more, sir.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Quaeryt said to Vaelora. “I’d rather not show up just before they might be entertaining. Do you wish to come?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Quaeryt couldn’t quite conceal his surprise at her diffident tone.
“It’s not that. I just don’t know that I want to ride four glasses when the reason deals with something I had nothing to do with.”
Her smile reassured Quaeryt.
“And now,” Vaelora added, “we need to go over more than a few things in case you have to travel next week.” She turned to the young clerk. “If you’d draw that out, please, Hullyt, and then you can get back to the work we disrupted.”
“It was a pleasure, Lady. I don’t mind getting out now and again. I’ll go back to my table and draw it out proper.”
“Thank you.”
When the door closed, Quaeryt said, “He seems quite well mannered and pleased to be here.”
“His father was a clerk for a High Holder who fell from Kharst’s favor. He was working for a miller as a wagon boy.”
“How did you find him?”
“I have my ways.” Vaelora flashed a smile, then said, “I watched Aelina.”
Quaeryt wasn’t sure that was an answer, but decided against pressing.
29
Quaeryt woke, then stiffened, glancing around the chateau chamber. The shutters were secure and the door barred. In the dimness, he turned toward Vaelora, but she was facing away from him in the wide bed. He could hear a faint pattering sound, almost like rain, except that it wasn’t. Then the shutters over the center window flew open and a swirl of rain sprayed across the chamber—except the raindrops were large and each glittered with silver light.
Rex Regis Page 24