“Forester Loryalt calculated that it might occur as soon as the time of your children’s rule…” Cerlyk looked slightly embarrassed.
“We have a little time for that. It shouldn’t be neglected, but once the Forester returns, you should work out harvesting plans for those private lands that will address the balance.”
“There have been plans…”
“If necessary, the Southern Guards and I will oversee those plans.”
“Yes, Lady.” Although his voice was polite, the subforester was pleased.
Mykella sensed that no one else wanted to ask about anything. She rose. “I’ll see you all next week.” Her eyes went to Areyst briefly, and she gave the smallest of nods.
The commander took his time gathering the thin leather folder he had not opened so that he was the last one in the study, but he did not speak until they were alone. “Yes, Lady?”
“I’ll be riding out the eastern highway this morning. If you could join me…”
“I had planned to do so.” Areyst inclined his head. “This was a short ministerial meeting from the reports I’ve heard before.”
“They may be longer in the future.”
“You will pardon me, Lady, if I doubt that they will be that much longer.”
Mykella couldn’t quite smother the grin she felt at Areyst’s good-humored banter. “We will see.”
“Indeed we will. If you will excuse me so that your mount and escorts are ready…”
Mykella gestured. Only after he left did she shake her head.
Less than half a glass later, she rode southeast along the avenue past the Southern Guard headquarters. Before her rode a pair of Southern Guards, and beside her was Areyst, with a squad following. The dwellings overlooking the avenue, while not villas, were well maintained, with whitewashed courtyard and structure walls, and kitchen gardens over whose walls rose well-pruned trees. At times, Mykella thought she heard the splash of fountains, and the air held aromas of cooking and spices and oils—but not any stenches or unpleasant odors.
Less than half a vingt farther southeast they began to ride past small villas set amid larger walled compounds.
“That is Seltyr Khanasyl’s villa.” Areyst pointed to a villa set on a gentle rise, whose lower reaches were enclosed by a shimmering white wall, breached only by a double gate—closed and presumably barred.
“It is rather impressive. It might even be larger than the palace.”
“With the outbuildings on the back side of the hill, it doubtless is, as are several villas built in Tempre in recent years.”
“That was built recently?”
“Comparatively. It was finished when I returned from my tour in Indyor.” Areyst’s voice was bland.
“That was not always the custom?”
“Seltyrs and High Factors have always had larger dwellings, but such … impressive near palaces have appeared but in the last ten years or so.”
Since Mother’s death … Had her father just given up … gone through the motions when she died? Would she ever know?
When she rode back into the palace, Mykella was somewhere between irritated and furious. The entire area along the eternastone-paved eastern avenue that became the highway at the outskirts of Tempre was filled with well-kept dwellings and clearly functioning sewers, and the waters of the smaller East River looked clear. Still … she’d need to cover other parts of the city before she made any final decisions.
She did manage to eat a quick but solid midday meal—cold fowl with pearapples in syrup and warm dark bread—before she returned to the formal study. Salyna and Rachylana had already eaten.
Lying on her desk was an envelope, sealed in reddish wax, but with an imprint she did not recognize. She opened it and read the brief lines.
Gracious Lady-Protector—
I offer my thanks, and those of Envoy Sheorak, for your timely missive to the Landarch. We will be departing shortly. We wish you well in the coming season. We trust that Lanachrona and Deforya will remain fast friends, regardless of the machinations of others.
With the greatest respect.
The signature was that of Smoltak, Majer.
Mykella couldn’t help but smile as she slipped the missive back into the envelope.
Just as the last of the grains of sand in the glass oozed out, and the first glass of the afternoon began, Khanasyl stepped into Mykella’s study. He was the largest Seltyr Mykella had ever seen, and when he stepped through the doorway, he appeared far larger than she recalled although it had been several years since she had actually been close to him since he usually had avoided events, particularly balls, in the palace. Even standing behind the desk, she had to look up, and once they were seated, she was still looking up.
“Lady-Protector, you requested my presence.” His voice was high, not quite a tenor, but thin and at odds with the touch of gray in his hair and his square-cut beard, and particularly with his broad shoulders and impressive physique, although a larger-than-necessary midsection suggested that with age he might have become slightly indulgent.
“You’re most kind to see me so promptly,” she began. “I understood you and others in Tempre might have some concerns, and I wanted to hear them from you, since, as First Seltyr, you certainly are the one to whom others will turn.”
Khanasyl smiled warmly and broadly, but the warmth was skin deep, and his light gray eyes met Mykella’s squarely. “You give me too much credit. I am but the first among equals.”
Mykella looked directly back at Khanasyl, smiling faintly and projecting assurance. “I only give you your due.”
For just a moment, the Seltyr blinked before smiling warmly once more. “You are indeed kind … yet there are concerns, I must say great concerns, over your acceptance of the resignation of Lord Porofyr. Some have suggested that might have been … a trifle unduly hasty.”
“Seltyr Porofyr gave me little choice.” Mykella offered a rueful smile. “Before I could say a word, he told me that he could not serve me. I attempted to suggest that such was not the case, but he insisted most firmly.” She paused, as if reflecting, before going on. “It is possible that he might have deigned to remain had I begged and groveled.”
“He felt that you had no interest in retaining him.” Khanasyl fingered his beard, as if thoughtfully. “He also felt that you were not all that interested in continuing the successful and long-standing customs and traditions of Lanachrona.”
“He may have intimated that to you or others, but he never gave me the chance to retain him. Those who believe I am upending things might note that I have retained the Forester, Lord Gharyk, and the highest-ranking officer of the Southern Guards remaining after the treachery of Nephryt and Demyl.”
“Ah … yes. ‘Treachery’… a useful word.”
“I could have used ‘murder’ or ‘theft’ or ‘deception.’ ‘Treachery’ is just more inclusive.” Mykella smiled brightly. “Might I ask you for any recommendations you might have that I could consider for a successor to Porofyr?”
“I had not thought…”
“You are known for your forethought, First Seltyr. Everyone knows you consider all aspects long before others realize there are even matters to consider. Pardon me if I express doubt that you have not considered who might be a worthy Minister of Highways and Rivers.”
“Considered, yes. I have considered several, but without meeting with you, Lady-Protector, and learning what you consider of import, my considerations are just that.”
Mykella gave a thoughtful nod. “My concerns are simple enough. I would like someone who understands rivers and the handling of sewers and waste as well as the need for sound towpaths and piers. I would like someone who is hardworking, knowledgeable, and honest, as well as one who understands the needs of both factors and traders and crafters and ordinary folk.”
“You don’t want much,” replied Khanasyl with a high-pitched laugh.
Mykella laughed in return. “You asked. There may not be anyone who meets all t
hose qualifications, but we might as well start with what would be best and work from there.”
“Work from there … that is certainly possible. I will give the matter some thought and get back to you.” The Seltyr nodded. “You know … I can remember when you were born … and when your brother was, too. Such a tragic death it was. I still can’t see what they were thinking.” He shook his head. “But things happen as they will, and we have a Lady-Protector, one who understands ledgers and costs, and who can provide an heir, and commerce and continuity are what underlie the prosperity of any land…”
Mykella nodded and listening, asking a question here and another there, for almost half a glass more, knowing that was the bare minimum before she could ease Khanasyl out. Only after the door was firmly closed behind the First Seltyr did Mykella take a long and deep breath. The absolute and condescending arrogance of that … She couldn’t even think of an appropriate word.
She ended up pacing around the study for a time, just trying to settle herself for the meeting with Lhanyr. Then she went back over the ledger that held the expenditures of the Ministry of Highways and Rivers, but too many entries were large and general—and that suggested she needed to look at the separate ledgers for each subaccount.
“Chief High Factor Lhanyr,” announced Chalmyr.
Lhanyr was close to the physical opposite of Khanasyl, a slender and wiry clean-shaven man, barely middle-aged, with short ginger hair and freckles, who stood but slightly taller than Mykella’s sister Salyna. He bowed, then lifted his head with a shy smile. “Lady-Protector.”
“Chief High Factor.” She gestured to the chairs.
“Lhanyr … please.” He seated himself quickly.
“You’re kind to respond to my request,” she said. “With all the changes that have occurred, I thought you and the other factors might have some concerns. I wanted to hear from you since you are the one to whom others will turn and to whom they will likely listen.”
Lhanyr smiled ruefully. “They will listen, but there are always those who will not heed my words or the words of others. Both factors and Seltyrs have the habit of calculating their acts on the basis of what profits them in the current season. The wiser ones, who are fewer, calculate on the basis of a year or so. The wisest do what is necessary to survive the current times but calculate for the lifetime of their children.”
“What are those concerns?” Mykella kept her voice even.
Lhanyr shrugged. “All know that you will likely have to raise tariffs. Most worry that you will raise them too high and too quickly.”
“Why do you believe tariffs will be raised?”
“The Southern Guards is too small, and Lanachrona faces enemies to the west. Golds have been stolen from the Treasury, and not all the golds raised have been spent wisely. All know that you know these things. What else could we expect?”
While Mykella could sense calculation behind the factor’s pleasant words and demeanor, that calculation felt almost honest and open, especially after listening to Khanasyl. “Some of these matters must be addressed, including the need for higher tariffs, but I have come to no decisions as to how to proceed. How do the factors feel about the amount by which tariffs might be increased.”
“As little as possible, Lady-Protector.” Lhanyr’s words were delivered lightly and with an underlying humor.
Mykella just waited, smiling pleasantly.
“I cannot speak to the numbers, Lady, not for the others. We have not discussed such. Never have tariffs been raised by more than a copper on a silver, and I believe most would feel that a one part in five increase would be a heavy levy.”
“I appreciate your candor, and I will consider your thoughts and observations.” Mykella paused. “You have heard about the fire at High Factor Hasenyt’s warehouse, have you not?”
“I have, and it troubles me greatly.”
Lhanyr’s words were backed by his feelings, more strongly than she had expected, and she asked, “Might you explain why?”
“Many saw that Hasenyt agreed to your accession as Lady-Protector. For him to suffer a fire set by others so soon after that … that begs coincidence, in my mind.”
“Might that also be connected to my acceptance of the resignation of Seltyr Porofyr as Minister of Highways and Rivers?”
“I doubt that his resignation greatly concerned many factors.”
“Oh?”
“You must know, Lady, that the relations between factors and Seltyrs have always been … strained.”
“Does that date back to when Mykel the Great exiled Amaryk?”
“That did not make relations easier, but they were difficult before that because Southgate and Dramur offered coins and more favorable terms to the Seltyrs. Many factors and smaller traders suffered incidents such as befell Hasenyt. One of the reasons why the factors acceded readily to the Lord-Protector Mykel was because he was fair to all.”
“I will certainly endeavor to follow his example.”
“That is the wisest course, but it does present dangers. Fairness is seen as preferential by those who lose a previous and unfair advantage, as I am most certain you already understand.”
Mykella unfortunately did, and she nodded once more before speaking. “Do you have a recommendation for a successor to Porofyr?”
Her question drew a crooked smile from Lhanyr, and a pause before he replied. “While many factors would prefer a factor as minister, such an appointment would only worsen matters at present. The appointment of a Seltyr of probity and fairness would better serve us all.”
Are there any? Mykella did not ask the question. “That may be, but have you any suggestions of High Factors, as well?”
“There are several with both reputation and experience. Almardyn, among the Seltyrs, and Pytroven and Zylander have always shown those traits. There may be others…”
“If you think of such, will you convey those names?”
“I will indeed, Lady.”
“Now … please tell me of the challenges that face the factors, Seltyrs, and the Lady-Protector in the matters of trade.” Mykella smiled.
Lhanyr laughed, then shook his head. “You are disarmingly dangerous, Lady.”
“I hope I am disarming. I doubt I am dangerous, but how can I address your difficulties if I do not know what they are?”
“Then I would say that the greatest danger is that the Seltyrs, as well as some factors, do not realize that their prosperity lies in your hands and in the strength of the Southern Guards. You must realize this already, for you are making changes in the Guards…”
Mykella listened for more than half a glass before seeing Lhanyr out.
Less than half a glass passed before the inevitable knock on the door occurred.
“Captain Maeltor has a report for you.”
“Have him come in.” Mykella stood and waited.
The captain bowed his head, then straightened. “Lady … Yesterday, you suggested that High Factor Hasenyt look for the watchman’s brother. He’s been found.”
From Maeltor’s expression, Mykella understood. “What was left of him, you mean?”
“Yes, Lady.”
“What else?”
“The watchman was in the main gaol, awaiting his time before the justicer. He hung himself with his belt. The commander thought you should know.”
“He was right. Thank you, Captain.” She smiled politely and stood there until he left.
What could she do? She couldn’t do everything. She couldn’t even find out everything that had gone wrong, and every time she turned around, she learned something new, and little of what she learned was favorable.
Mykella walked to the window. She realized she was doing that all too often. She also realized that, one way or another, the next few months would be difficult, and if Khanasyl and Porofyr had their way, Tempre would be smeared with the blood of too many who might reveal too much. But it’s too early for you to act directly … yet.
12
Mykella wa
s not in any better a mood when she walked down the corridor toward the formal study on Tridi morning. Late the afternoon before, Duchael had arrived with the information about sewers. While his demeanor had been pleasant, behind that facade he had been anything but pleased.
Then, after that, Mykella’s use of the Table had been similarly unfruitful, showing her nothing new or of import. While the pinkish purpleness had not brightened more, neither had it diminished. Finally, using the black pathways, she had finally located a low hill overlooking the eternastone highway, close enough that she could reach the blackness from the edge of the highway. Unfortunately, that locale, she suspected, was inside the border of Midcoast, although it was impossible for her to determine that exactly.
Dinner and breakfast had been quiet, with Mykella briefly explaining the problem of finding a new Minister of Highways and Rivers, then listening to Salyna’s report on improvements to the palace that she’d discussed with Elwayt and on her ideas for training women Southern Guards. Rachylana had made few comments, not quite sulking, and only asking if Mykella had heard from the envoy from Midcoast. Mykella had not and said so.
“You won’t,” had been Rachylana’s last words to Mykella at breakfast.
All those thoughts swirled through her mind as she stepped into the anteroom to her formal study.
Chalmyr stood. “Good morning, Lady.”
“Good morning, Chalmyr. What new problems await us?” She kept her voice light.
“Envoy Vaerlon from Midcoast wishes an appointment with you this morning, if possible. He waits below.”
Mykella offered a crooked smile. At least she could tell Rachylana that she met with the man. “Is there anything else more pressing?”
“Not at the moment, Lady.”
“I will see him now. Please tell the duty guard I plan to ride out at a glass before midday.”
“Yes, Lady.”
Mykella nodded and entered her study, noting that Chalmyr had dusted the wood and closed the map folio, placing it in the corner of the desk, precisely aligned with the edges. She glanced toward the window. Outside, the sky was hazy, with clouds appearing to the west. That confirmed her decision to ride through Tempre earlier in the day.
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