Ordermaster

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Nothing will happen for years, possibly not until after his death.”

  “Or yours,” Kharl suggested.

  “That is possible,” Hagen admitted blandly, if honestly. “Unless I can find and train a successor. That will be difficult.”

  “I can see that. Most would only see the power, and not the duty.”

  “There are some who understand the duty, but they have not the power to rein in a lord, and most who have some power either would not take my position, or they would abuse it, as you have said.” Hagen smiled. “But... there will be time to talk of such for years to come. I had hoped you would join me for a late supper, and if you are not hungry, at least to keep me company.”

  Kharl smiled in return. “I might have some supper, at that.”

  XXXVII

  Lord Ghrant did not summon Kharl until twoday afternoon.

  In the meantime, Kharl had taken the time to work out an arrangement with Hagen that, the next time one of Hagen’s ships ported in Brysta, he would pay for someone to travel to Merayni’s and Dowsyl’s with a message for Warrl-and passage to Valmurl, or if possible, to Cantyl itself. He still had no word on whether his earlier message had reached Peachill.

  “You realize that my man can’t force the boy?” Hagen said.

  “I know, but if his aunt knows I have lands here ...”

  “They may not agree.”

  Kharl had taken a deep breath. “I know, but I have to try.”

  “We’ll do what we can,” Hagen had replied.

  Kharl could only hope that it would suffice.

  After taking care of that detail, all he could do was study The Basis of Order and wait for the meeting with Lord Ghrant. When he was summoned, he was surprised to find that their meeting was not in the audience hall, but in Ghrant’s private study, a room that was far larger than the sitting rooms of some mansions, Kharl realized as he glanced around a chamber measuring a good thirty cubits in length and twenty in width. Dark wood paneling covered the walls, except for the ceiling-to- floor bookshelves on the long inside wall, shelves of the same dark wood as the paneling. The outside long wall was mainly of windows, separated by stretches of bookshelves, also floor to ceiling.

  Ghrant was seated at an ornate desk of black oak and lorken. The pedestal legs were ornately carved with figures that Kharl did not recognize. Kharl sat in a wooden armchair upholstered in dark green, directly across the desk from Ghrant. None of the lamps in the study had been lit, despite the heavy gray clouds and the sullen drizzling rain that had fallen most of the day. Ghrant’s face was in shadow as he looked at Kharl, although the mage could see the lord clearly enough.

  “Ser Kharl... all of Austra should be most grateful to you. Most will not be, but I am a grateful ruler.” A faint smile crossed the younger man’s face.

  “I did what I thought was best, ser.”

  “That is to your credit, and to our benefit.” The slender lord coughed once, then cleared his throat. “The lord-chancellor has conveyed your concerns. Those concerns also speak well of you. Still... I must honor you, if only for my own sake, foremost as an upper lord, and with tangible reward as well.” Ghrant forced a laugh. “I cannot allow it to be said that I was a lord who did not reward the mage who saved his land.”

  Kharl nodded, knowing from whom those words had come.

  “Your actions in defense of Austra were greater magery than has been seen in generations, and even I know that such magery risked your life- and more. Your skill and courage kept Austra from falling under the mailed fist of Hamor. While I respect your modesty and prudence, I must reward you. You have expressed fondness for forests. I inherited a great woods from my late brother. I have had little time to treat it as it should have been. In fact, until recently, I was not even aware that it had come to me. Since it adjoins Cantyl, and I have no other holdings nearby, it would seem to be a perfect match for me to transfer that woodland to you.”

  “Your lordship is most generous. Most generous.”

  “I’m not generous at all, Lord Kharl. But these are hard times for Austra, as you have recognized, and I am happy to be able to reward you in a manner that is good for us both. Your modesty and forbearance are also received with great gratitude. For those, not only will you receive my thanks, but also a purse of five hundred golds to help you and your retainers in taking over and managing the forest. Lord Hagen will provide that to you.” Ghrant smiled. “And I will listen most favorably to any reasonable request you put forth, either now or in the future.”

  “Thank you, your lordship.” Kharl inclined his head. “What had you thought to do, now?”

  “I had thought to return to Cantyl, your lordship. I had scarcely time to learn of the lands, before ... this.”

  Ghrant laughed, more warmly than before. “That is true. You have been so great a help that it is hard to remember that you are not from Austra. But your loyalty is far greater than that of many whose families have lived and prospered here for many generations.”

  “I have seen justice abused, your lordship. I saw wrongs committed because a lord had greater power than others. I could do nothing about it in Nordla. I would not see that happen here in Austra. You should have the right to rule justly.”

  Ghrant smiled-faintly, once more. “Between you and my lord- chancellor, I doubt that I will have much choice but to rule justly. I am fortunate that your support has allowed me that ability.”

  Kharl realized that Ghrant had read more into Kharl’s words than the mage had meant. “I fear you misunderstood, your lordship. I had only meant to say that your heart told you to rule justly, but that others would have preferred an unjust rule so that they could gain from it.”

  Ghrant’s smile widened slightly. “You speak as you believe, ser Kharl, and that is rare indeed in dealing with rulers.”

  “That is also dangerous, ser, and as I have learned, not always to your benefit.”

  “You have learned, and that is more than most in these days.” Ghrant nodded and rose.

  Kharl quickly stood, bowing slightly.

  “I wish you well on your return to Cantyl. I trust that will enjoy your lands without interruption and hope that I will not soon need to call upon your talents.”

  “Begging your pardon, ser, I hope the same. I wish you and your family a warm spring and a pleasant summer, and I thank you for all that you have provided for me.”

  Kharl could feel the lord’s eyes on his back as he left the study, but he did not sense either anger or chaos.

  Book 2:

  Scholar of Justice

  XXXVIII

  Summer had finally come, and even right after an early breakfast, the day was warm as Kharl stood just inside the east end of the cooperage. For a time, he surveyed the work benches, the fire pots, and the tool racks. After more than an eightday’s worth of hard work on the interior, everything- including the white and red oak he had ordered a season earlier-was finally ready for him to work on his barrels. He’d even replaced the doors. At least the heavy flagstone flooring had been laid and waiting for him when he had returned from Valmurl. Dorwan and Bannat had done a good workmanlike job, and Kharl had paid them a handsome bonus immediately after his return to Cantyl.

  “Ser .. . we were just doing ...” Dorwan had protested.

  “You did it well, and I appreciate good work. I especially appreciate it when I’m not here.”

  “Be thanking you, ser. Kariana will be most pleased. She’s been thinking about a chest and a bed for Bannat. He’ll be consorted to Fiana come fall.”

  “Fiana? I don’t recall...” Kharl was well aware that he knew less than he should about his tenants and retainers. Then, he hadn’t exactly been at Cantyl that much.

  “Ah .. . you wouldn’t, ser. She’s Chyhat’s daughter.”

  “The forester on the new forest?” asked Kharl. Those were the words Dorwan had taken to using when referring to the forestland that Kharl had received from Lord Ghrant. Kharl had only met with Chyhat twice, an
older man, slim and wiry, unlike the burly Dorwan, who stood even a span taller than Kharl, and few men reached the mage’s height and breadth.

  “Yes, ser.”

  “How are you two getting on?” Kharl had insisted that each forester retain control over the forests that they had always supervised, but that they meet and work out how much timber should be harvested as a total each year.

  “Same as we always did.” Dorwan laughed. “We think the same about which trees should be cut, and where lands ought to be thinned, and we don’t talk about much else except our bairns. Better that way.”

  Kharl smiled at the recollection of Dorwan’s words. He’d been fortunate. Speltar was a good steward, and he’d kept the good people. Probably the wisest thing Lord Estloch had done had been to leave Cantyl alone under Speltar’s care.

  The last of the basic tools Kharl had ordered from Valmurl had arrived at Cantyl long before he had been able to return to there. While the forge was adequate, he’d need to do more over the next season or so. Still, he’d been able to forge some of his cooper’s tools, and he had two adzes, a chiv, three hollowing knives, and his planer. The shaver had been the hardest because of the thinness required, and he would have to forge his own hoops from scratch, rather than just trimming and riveting the iron strips he’d bought at his cooperage in Brysta. Still, he’d made three red oak barrels for slack uses, as much to renew his skills as for use at Cantyl. But he hadn’t wanted to start with tight cooperage, not given the time since he had last worked on barrels.

  Given what it had cost to equip his new cooperage, he doubted that it would pay for itself for several years, but he had wanted to do something productive and not just live off the fruits of the land. According to Chyhat, there was indeed a small stand of white oak on the western edge of the new forest, with enough trees to supply billets for cooperage and cabinetry, but not enough for consistent timber sales. That was fine with Kharl.

  “Ser?” Speltar stood at the door to the cooperage.

  “Yes, Speltar?”

  “I should have the figures for the improvements this afternoon, ser.”

  “Improving the sawmill here, and adding the cots? And the roads? Chyhat agreed with you and Dorwan?”

  “Yes, ser. He’d asked Lord Ilteron for golds to improve the old mill there for years. Said it was too dangerous.” “What about closing it?”

  “He said that was fine, just so the millmen kept their places.” Speltar grinned. “When I told him about the new cots, he asked if we’d consider tossing in a few golds so he could add a room and fix his roof. I said I would ask you.”

  “He seems honest. I’d think so, unless you have a reason not to grant his request.”

  “I’d grant his request, ser, and add a gold for furnishings.”

  “Then do so.” Kharl paused. “What about you? Have you ever received a bonus for all your work?”

  “I have the house, ser, and it’s far grander than what most stewards ever see.”

  “That may be, but when I compare what the new forest shows and what Cantyl shows ...”

  “I have been fortunate, ser.”

  Kharl snorted. “Do you find a ten-gold bonus fair?”

  Speltar swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his thin throat.

  “Let’s make it fifteen.”

  Speltar bowed. “Thank you. I have never ... you are most generous.”

  Kharl could sense the truth of his words. “I cannot be so generous with all, but as part of your duties, I would request that you recommend a small bonus for those on the lands who deserve it. We would pay it after harvest.”

  “Lord Koroh did so, but that was before my time.”

  “Do you think it is a bad idea?”

  “No, ser. The lands were most productive under Lord Koroh.”

  “Or his steward,” Kharl suggested dryly. “Was the steward from your family?”

  “No, ser. Lord Estloch brought me here fifteen years ago. I was the assistant to the steward at Dykaru.”

  “How did Lord Estloch end up with the lands? I’d heard that Lord Julon ...” Kharl left the sentence unfinished.

  “Lord Julon spent far too many golds on his horses, and upon pleasures in Valmurl. He owed over a thousand golds, it was said, and none of the lenders in Valmurl would advance him more golds. Then, when he was murdered, his lands reverted to Lord Estloch because his consort and heirs could not pay off the debts. Lord Estloch settled the debts and set me here.” Speltar shrugged, as if his words explained everything. “What happened to his consort?”

  “She was most beautiful, and she became the second consort of Lord Malcor.” Speltar smiled sadly. “She died ten years later, of a mysterious illness, and he consorted a third time. She had but two daughters by Lord Julon, and no children by Lord Malcor.”

  Was everyone in Austra tied to everything, or was that just the way of the noble families everywhere? Kharl suspected the latter.

  Speltar cleared his throat. “If you don’t need anything else, ser ...”

  “Go do what you need to, Speltar.” Kharl grinned. “You know where to find me.”

  The steward bowed slightly. “Yes, ser.”

  After Speltar had left, Kharl went to the racks on the left at the rear of his new cooperage, somewhat smaller than the space he had had in Brysta but more than adequate for his present needs.

  After several moments, he pulled down enough white oak billets for several standard barrels. He’d try tight cooperage, this time. He was smiling as he set the billets on the bench next to the planer.

  XXXIX

  Kharl had just finished trimming the chime on a white oak barrel and was blotting his forehead when he noticed Speltar standing in the doorway to the cooperage, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Lord Kharl?”

  “Come in, Speltar. It’s a cooperage, not a bedchamber or a study. When I’m working here, just come inside. I may have to finish something, but there’s no reason for you to stand outside.”

  As he stepped into the cooperage, Speltar lifted a square of heavy paper with a florid purple wax seal on one edge. “I have a missive from ser Arynal. His man is waiting for a response.”

  A response? “What do you know of Arynal?” Kharl had run across the name, but he didn’t know where. He was fairly sure that Arynal had not been among the collaborators with the rebels, but he couldn’t recall why he would have known a lord’s name.

  “He holds the lands to the north and west of yours, ser . ..”

  That was where Kharl had seen the name, on the maps that Speltar had gone over with him almost a season earlier.

  “... He is a minor lord, most properly.”

  “Like me?”

  “Ah.. . ser. If I read the proclamation correctly, you are a lord of the upper level.”

  “Proclamation?” Kharl hadn’t even realized that there was such.

  “Oh, yes, ser. I thought you knew. A lord or a grant must be proclaimed. I thought you had sent the proclamations to me. I have both the proclamation of your title as a lower lord-that was when you received Cantyl-and the one at the end of spring when you were elevated to an upper lord and received the new forest.”

  “Hmmm .. .” Kharl recalled Lord Ghrant saying something about an upper lord, but he had paid more attention to the grant of the lands. Then, abruptly, he recalled Ghrant and several others addressing him as Lord Kharl. He’d passed that off as a compliment, but he should have known that Ghrant would not have addressed him as such through courtesy. Again... it showed what he didn’t know and the subtleties of lordship. The deliberate use of the term lord by Lord Ghrant would have been so obvious to any lord, lower or upper, and Kharl hadn’t even noticed what it had meant. “What’s the advantage of being an upper lord? Is there one?”

  “Well. .. ser ... if you do something wrong, like murder, they have to behead you, rather than hang you.” A faint smile crossed the steward’s face.

  Kharl laughed. “Is that all?”
/>   “You have the right to administer low justice on your lands.”

  “For minor things, like theft?”

  “If the theft is less than ten golds.”

  That wasn’t such a small amount, Kharl reflected.

  “And you have to supply services or armsmen to the Lord of Austra.” Speltar’s smile turned wry. “At times, in the past, the Lord of Austra has elevated lords to the upper level only to require armsmen that the lord could not support.”

  Kharl could see someone like Lord West doing that.

  “In your case, that would not be a problem, I would judge,” Speltar added.

  “Not any more of a problem than it already is.” Kharl gestured toward the missive. “I suppose I should read the letter.”

  The steward extended it.

  Kharl took it and broke the seal, carefully. He didn’t want purple wax on his new flag floor. The note within was short, if written in an elegant hand that was not Arynal’s, since the signature differed from the text.

  Lord Kharl,

  With the deepest respect, and begging your indulgence, I would like to call upon you late this afternoon to pay my respects to you.

  I have not wished to impose upon you, but as your nearest neighbor thought that I should present myself and offer what information you might find useful.

  Kharl looked up. “Does he expect supper?”

  “That, or afternoon refreshments, would be in order.”

  “Am I expected to invite his family?”

  “His consort would be acceptable.” Speltar smiled.

  “What you are telling me is that I should invite everyone. How many?”

  “He has two consortable daughters, and a son who has already been consorted.”

  Kharl took a deep breath. “Can Adelya handle that?”

  “She would be upset, ser, if you thought otherwise.”

  “Would you write a response that says that I would be happy to have them all for supper this evening? And tell Adelya to prepare as she sees fit.” Kharl shook his head. He could sense Speltar’s concealed laughter at the resignation in Kharl’s voice.