Less than a half quint later, the ranker walked back to Quaeryt with a quizzical expression on his face.
“Yes?” asked Quaeryt.
“Well … sir … there’s no mark anywhere, but there’s a place on the gelding’s rump where, if you touch it, he shies away. Has to hurt a lot.”
“Thank you. It might be an insect bite or something. Sometimes they don’t show.” Quaeryt knew it was likely nothing of the sort. “Thank you.”
He looked back down at the contorted face of the dead factor. He had no doubts how Andryt had been murdered—something imaged into the mount’s hindquarters, enough to make him buck, and then poison, most likely pitricin, imaged into Andryt’s brain.
And that meant he had an even bigger problem on his hands.
The rest of the day was filled with details and more details, but the notices were posted, the document copies made … and Pharyl sent a message informing Quaeryt that there would be another theft hearing on Mardi. That reminded Quaeryt to send one in return, asking Pharyl to look into the family and business affairs of Factor Andryt, since the factor had died in a strange accident.
When Quaeryt finally reached the villa, it was a good two quints past fifth glass, and Vaelora had a worried expression on her face when he stepped into the entry hall, after having unsaddled and groomed the mare.
“You look worried, dearest.”
“I am.” He glanced toward the archway and the corridor beyond.
“Rebyah and Alsyra are in the kitchen. Shenna has gone to see her family. Why? What happened?”
“Another problem of a serious nature.” He went on to tell her about his meetings with Lysienk and Andryt … and the results.
“That’s terrible.”
“Will Shenna be here tomorrow?”
“You’re not thinking of still having her meet with someone like that?”
“I am. I think it’s the only way to resolve the matter. It’s very important that she meet with him, and that not either one of us is present.”
“Quaeryt…”
“Dear … please.”
“All right … I know you know what you’re doing, but I still worry.”
So do I. “Sometimes, the choices are between bad and worse.”
“There are getting to be too many of those.” Vaelora’s voice was between dry and tart.
“I know. Can we enjoy dinner?” Exactly what else can you do right now?
Vaelora did smile, if faintly.
47
Samedi morning Quaeryt was groggy, but still managed to struggle out of bed, noting, as he had not the night before, that there was a more elaborate coverlet—which he had tossed back the night before. He also noted a pair of matching straight-backed chairs, one beside each armoire.
“It is looking better, don’t you think?” asked Vaelora.
“I do indeed.” He had to wonder about the costs, but Vaelora had not asked him for golds. Not yet, anyway.
He dressed quickly, as did Vaelora, but took his time over breakfast, so much so that Vaelora looked at him and asked, “Are you going to the post later this morning?”
“When will Shenna be here this morning? Remember?”
“She should be here anytime now. I still worry about her talking to Lysienk.”
“Don’t,” said Quaeryt. “He can’t get what he wants unless he talks to her. And I may need evidence from someone else…”
“But if he’s that clever…”
Quaeryt just looked at Vaelora.
“Oh…”
“There may not be any other way. Not given the way he’s done things.”
Vaelora nodded sadly.
What are you supposed to do? Let him image person after person to death? When there’s no proof that will stand up in a hearing? Quaeryt wanted to shake his head. He didn’t.
Quaeryt was just finishing the last sips of a third cup of tea when Shenna arrived. He stood.
“Good morning, Governor.”
Vaelora’s private secretary was petite and pert, with wavy black hair. Quaeryt wouldn’t have called her pretty. Cute, perhaps, if slightly chubby, but she had beautiful hazel eyes.
“We need to discuss a matter with you.” Quaeryt glanced to Vaelora, and then back to Shenna.
“Yes, sir.”
“You will be approached by a Factor Lysienk, either in person or through a note. He represents himself as a provisions factor. You are to agree to meet with him, but on a day after Mardi. If he does not wish to meet in the villa, you are to insist on meeting with him somewhere close to the villa, either right before or right after you are to begin work. If he defers, explain that your mistress keeps a close eye on you, that you are new to the position, that such positions are hard to come by. It is very important that Vaelora and I know where and when you will meet, but we will not be present.” Not visibly. “He will suggest that you purchase various provisions for the villa through him. He may even offer you some inducement. You are to appear reluctant, but do not get angry or rebuff him. You do not wish to make him angry.”
The young woman’s brow furrowed into a frown. “He wants to bribe or force me into paying more for provisions?”
“That is most likely,” said Quaeryt. “He has done this before. He may tell you that I have already agreed to the arrangement … or hint that. You tell him that I requested you meet with him and hear him out.”
“He will want an answer,” said Vaelora.
“Tell him that Vaelora has not completed making a listing of what the residence will need on a continuing basis, but that the list will be ready in a day or so, and that he or his man can call on you at the residence then.”
Vaelora nodded.
“Will that not seem as though I am dishonest?”
“You will not have agreed to any price at the end of the meeting,” Quaeryt pointed out. “Meeting with a produce factor does not make you dishonest. You will likely meet with a number to determine who will best serve for what.”
“Then…” Shenna shook her head, then looked to Quaeryt. “You’re trying to trap him, aren’t you?”
“I need to see whether he is merely sleazy, or whether he is worse. What he tells you will tell me.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. But … we do need to know when and where you will meet.”
“I will let you know if he contacts me.”
“Thank you.” Quaeryt smiled. “Now … if you ladies will excuse me.” The form of address to both of them was doubtless improper, because Shenna, as an unmarried daughter of a factor, was not technically a lady, but within the confines of the residence, that scarcely mattered. He hurried out to the stable.
Even so, because of the meeting with Shenna, Quaeryt did not get to the post until close to two quints past seventh glass.
He immediately checked to see if any dispatches from Bhayar—or Solis—had arrived. None had. Nor were there any other missives or messages for him, and he went to check with Skarpa to see how matters were coming with Third Regiment.
Both Skarpa and Zhrensyl were in the post commander’s study.
“Good morning, Commanders.”
“Good morning, sir,” replied both officers, although Zhrensyl was a fraction later in responding.
Quaeryt looked harder at the older commander, who appeared both flushed and pale. “Are you all right, Commander?”
“I must confess that I have had better days and weeks.”
“Commander Zhrensyl and I have been talking, sir.”
“It’s nothing,” said Zhrensyl.
“He has but five months left on his last tour before he can take a full stipend, but he also has almost three months in unused leave.”
Quaeryt understood immediately. If Skarpa had decided to bring up the matter, it meant that Zhrensyl was ill indeed, perhaps failing, and for him to remain in his position would not be best for either him or the post, especially after Skarpa left.
“You’re suggesting a month or so of sick lea
ve, followed by his unused leave?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I can certainly recommend that to Lord Bhayar.”
“You two are treating me like an invalid.”
“No,” replied Quaeryt. “Like an officer who has served long and faithfully, and who should not have to suffer over a month or so of forced duty. You could take the stipend in less than two months anyway.”
“I can still…”
“You can, Commander,” Quaeryt agreed, “but that wouldn’t be right. You’ll still be post commander until your stipend date, but we’ll work out a partial delegation of duties as you see fit. That way, you can decide what you can devote full energy to, and what others should do.”
Zhrensyl offered a wan smile. “You’re most kind, Governor, Commander Skarpa. I have worried.”
“You don’t have to worry any longer.”
“This has not been one of my better days.” The older commander stood up slowly, and Quaeryt could see the effort, and that his hands were trembling. “If you two will excuse me…”
“Of course.”
Neither Quaeryt nor Skarpa said anything until several moments after the study door closed.
“I worry about him, sir.”
“So do I, but what else can we do?” Quaeryt wondered if Zhrensyl would even live to see his stipend date. “Who would you suggest to take over most of his duties?”
“Major Heireg. The position here is really for support of the governor, and he’s diligent and hardworking.”
“And he’s already handling many of those duties, it would appear.”
“From what I’ve seen.” Skarpa nodded.
“Have you seen Dhaeryn this morning?” asked Quaeryt.
“He’s in the post engineer’s workshop. Or he was.”
“I need to talk to him. Then I’ll talk to Heireg. Is there anything you think I should tell him?”
“You might say that Zhrensyl has been ill, and since he will be leaving service, that you’d like Heireg to handle a few more things, as necessary.”
“Thank you. I need to talk to Major Dhaeryn while he’s still at the post.” With that, Quaeryt turned and made his way from the room and then across the courtyard.
As Skarpa had indicated, Dhaeryn was in the small engineering workroom. Both Dhaeryn and Captain Ghaelt, the post engineer, were examining what looked to be two curved lengths of iron, connected at both ends.
“… put weight here, and if the wheels jolt…” Ghaelt broke off and looked up. “Governor, sir.”
“I’d like just a moment with Major Dhaeryn.”
“Of course, sir.” Ghaelt nodded and stepped out of the workroom.
Quaeryt wanted to say that the captain didn’t have to leave, but the junior officer was gone before he could get the words out.
“What do you need, sir?” asked Dhaeryn.
“If you have time, Major, I’d like you to look through Extela and see if there is somewhere suitable for a governor’s building, not a square, but a place where we can either modify an existing building or build one that will hold a justicing hall, and chambers for tariff collectors, clerks, and various functionaries.”
“Sir…”
“I know. You won’t be here long enough even to begin such a project, but I trust your judgment, and that will give me some place to start. If you could include Captain Ghaelt…”
“Yes, sir.” The look on the major’s face suggested that Ghaelt was better for the assignment.
“I want both of you,” Quaeryt went on, “because you have no preconceptions and because he’ll have to carry it out.”
“I’ve noted that the captain has few preconceptions, sir.” Dhaeryn pointed to the iron sections on the workbench. “He comes up with ideas that seem very original.”
“Excellent.” Quaeryt image-projected approval. “That’s all I had.”
From the engineering workroom, Quaeryt walked back into the courtyard and then across to the supply major’s study, opening the door with a cheerful, “Good morning, Heireg.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“I met with Commander Zhrensyl earlier this morning…”
“Yes, sir. He stopped by to tell me that he’ll be taking some sick leave … and that you might be asking me to take over some duties…”
“I suspect you’ve already been dealing with some of them.”
A crooked smile appeared on Heireg’s face. “As I could, sir, without … causing any disruptions.”
Quaeryt nodded. “We’ll make it more official. I’d like to hear your thoughts about how we should handle this…” As he spoke he could see what he thought was relief on the major’s face. He forced himself to concentrate on Heireg, although he couldn’t help but worry about needing to talk to Siemprit’s junior chorister … and to work out a homily for Solayi evening.
Again, after he left Heireg, details and more details piled up through the day, from the handful of women in tattered clothes who appeared outside the post, begging for flour—to which he acquiesced, if with the statement that such disbursement would be the last free flour—to a handful of missives from various advocates touting their credentials to be appointed as high or low justicer. After the hearing over the water business, he’d go over the names with Aextyl.
In the end, he didn’t get back to the villa until close to fourth glass of the afternoon. And this was on a Samedi, he reflected, as he dismounted outside the villa’s stable.
Vaelora walked down to meet him.
“What is it?”
“Lysienk did not waste much time.”
“Shenna heard from him?”
“Indirectly. Less than a glass after you left, one of his minions appeared. She is to meet with Lysienk himself on Meredi, most properly, here in the villa,” said Vaelora, “after you leave that morning, around seventh glass.”
Quaeryt nodded. “That will require a little arranging, but I can manage it.”
Vaelora looked puzzled.
“I’ll need to get back here without being seen, and without my escort wanting to come with me.” He offered a crooked smile. “Some of the things that were the easiest when I was a simple scholar have become more difficult now that I’m a governor.”
“You were never a simple scholar.”
“One to whom few paid any attention, then.”
“Some of us did.” Vaelora smiled broadly.
“For which I am most grateful.” And he was, even with all the complications entailed in wedding the sister of the Lord of Telaryn.
48
Thankfully, Samedi evening and Solayi were uneventful. They were not without effort, not once Vaelora decided to try several different arrangements of furniture in the master suite on Solayi, and then, after a brief respite, in the receiving parlor.
Quaeryt also listened, commenting appropriately, as Vaelora talked once more about the lack of social invitations. He had to admit, if only to himself, that she might well be right, although he couldn’t understand why. He’d seen and read about the excesses perpetrated by other governors, and his attempts at rebuilding, reform, and reducing corruption seemed comparatively mild, almost harmless, by comparison … and he couldn’t believe that factors and High Holders would snub the Lord of Telaryn’s sister for marrying a mere scholar … would they?
Yet … if that were the reason, that suggested that he needed to find a way to implement his plans for improving the situation for scholars and imagers. All that would have to wait, of course, until he managed to get Extela back to a better semblance of order.
On Solayi evening, he managed a homily about vanity, and the fact that vanity was not merely about appearance and trappings, but about attitude … and some of the officers and rankers actually nodded in agreement.
He left the villa early on Lundi morning, and the first thing he did upon reaching the post and stabling the mare was to arrange with Heireg to have a wagon pick up Justicer Aextyl early on Mardi with a pair of rankers for an escort to the Civic
Patrol station. The second thing he did was to check with the duty desk to see if any dispatches had arrived. None had. That bothered him almost as much as if Bhayar had sent orders for Third Regiment to move out immediately.
Why? he wondered, but he couldn’t answer his own question.
After that, he went from one task to another. He read several letters from young men who wanted to be clerks for the governor, and kept them for future use, because, before long, he was going to need more clerks, except at the moment he had no place for them to work, although that would change when Third Regiment left. He read through the schedule of Mardi’s hearings and the written report Pharyl had left for him. At the end of the report were a few lines about Factor Andryt noting that the factor had possessed a solid reputation for honesty and quality, if a certain stubbornness, and that Pharyl would pursue other inquiries as possible.
Especially in that light, Quaeryt couldn’t help but worry about Shenna’s meeting with Lysienk, but there was nothing he could do about that until Meredi. He also wondered when he’d hear from Dhaeryn on possible locations for a building that would house all the clerks and functions he needed to direct as governor. He pushed those thoughts away and began to reread the recommendation Aextyl had drafted in response to Caesyt’s petition. After a time, he began to write what he would say at the hearing. All in all, he was busy until he reached the villa late that afternoon … when he ended up moving recently delivered furniture in the salon, since Vaelora wanted to try several arrangements.
Mardi morning he left for the post early because he wanted to make sure that the wagon got off to pick up Aextyl, but Heireg had just sent it and two troopers off when Quaeryt rode through the post gates.
With that in hand, Quaeryt went to meet with Skarpa, and then with Dhaeryn, before returning to the courtyard almost two quints later. He mounted and rode out and down the avenue, and then to the Civic Patrol station, where he waited for about a quint until the wagon carrying Aextyl arrived.
He dismounted, handed the mare’s reins to the nearer ranker, and walked to the wagon as it pulled up. “Greetings, Justicer.”
Princeps: A Novel in the Imager Portfolio Page 37