Antiagon Fire

43

Although the lookouts on the Montagne sighted sails on a number of occasions over the next three days, those vessels either kept on course away from the two warships or immediately changed headings to avoid closing. As Quaeryt half expected, the seas in the Gulf were rougher than on the outward voyage, and at times salt spray froze on the railings and deck at night, but there had been no storms … so far. The rough seas had resulted in many troopers hanging over the rails at times, but the numbers had decreased by Meredi afternoon.

Nykaal had been friendly, but had refrained from any more probing questions, even though he had eaten breakfast and dinner with Quaeryt and Vaelora every day.

On Meredi evening, Quaeryt, Vaelora, and Nykaal sat around the circular table after a dinner of white gravy over biscuits and mutton, filling but little more than that. The lager that Quaeryt sipped was far better than the fare.

“Do you really think that the Khellans will agree to terms with Lord Bhayar, now that they believe themselves to be free?” asked Nykaal.

“I think they will find that being free in the circumstances in which they find themselves will leave them with little real freedom.” Quaeryt sipped the lager, waiting to see where Nykaal’s questions might lead.

“Will that not encourage the Bovarians who are dissatisfied with Bhayar to cross into Khel? It would seem that might make taking Khel even more difficult.”

“I don’t think many will try that during winter, and those that do will likely not survive. By spring, matters may well be different.”

“How might that be?”

“Lord Bhayar will likely have a far firmer hand on Bovaria, and many who are dissatisfied now will be less so … or less of a problem by then.”

“Will he not have to increase tariffs to pay for the war?”

“Not more than he already has, I would wager. He recovered much of Kharst’s treasury, and since Kharst’s armies were destroyed, there is no need to pay them. Bhayar’s forces can be paid from what Kharst had set aside.” For the next half year, at least.

“By your own words, then Khel has little to fear from Bovaria or Lord Bhayar in the months, or even in the years ahead.”

Quaeryt glanced at Vaelora, who smiled politely, then sipped a glass of red wine. She’d scarcely drunk half a goblet all evening.

“Oh … Khel has much to fear,” replied Quaeryt. “Lord Bhayar will do nothing to stop traders and factors from overwhelming Khel. If the Khellans resort to force or try to stop trading, then Bhayar will be forced to use force, and the Khellans will lose any possibility of favorable terms. The High Council knows this, but they must convince the people. If they do not, Lord Bhayar is in no worse a position, and does not have to fight a winter war.”

“I respect your scholarly reason, Commander, but I have my doubts that the Khellan Council will think it through so reasonably.”

“They don’t have to, Captain,” Vaelora said sweetly. “Quaeryt spelled it out quite clearly for them. They were less than pleased, but they understood.”

“Understanding does not always lead to the desired results, I fear,” said Nykaal.

“I could not agree with you more,” said Quaeryt warmly. “That is why we have armies and warships. And why rulers trust those who pledge allegiance the most who can back their understanding with power of one sort or another. There are many with power, and more than a few with understanding, but few indeed with both.” He took another sip of the lager. “This is very good. Might I ask where you got it?”

“A friend sent it to me from Tilbor actually. There’s a High Holder there who brews a truly fine lager. I was fortunate to receive a keg, and able to keep it cool.”

“It is excellent, even after all that travel.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

For the next quint or so, before Nykaal retired and left Quaeryt and Vaelora to their own devices, the conversation remained firmly on lager, wines, and other matters of cuisine and cultured dining. Even as he made various comments and observations, Quaeryt kept thinking about the lager … and how and where it had come to Nykaal.

Quaeryt sat at the circular table, thinking, while Vaelora prepared herself for bed, noting absently that the Montagne’s pitching had subsided slightly.

Suddenly Vaelora appeared at his shoulder. “Oh … I didn’t mean to give you a start. I thought you might wish to read this, dearest. Our conversation brought this to mind.” Vaelora handed Rholan and the Nameless to Quaeryt, a thin strip of leather marking the page.

“Thank you.” Quaeryt eased from the chair and moved closer to the sole oil lamp still lit, opened the volume, and began to read.

The problem of righteousness is that while most people wish to be perceived as righteous and comporting themselves as good people, many do not wish to make the effort or to pay the prices required. This is one reason why many come to the anomen, for there, by their presence and without words or much effort, they can proclaim their goodness. This is also why, Rholan believed, those whose faith rests on the need to be perceived as good fear and attack anything that might reveal the shallowness of their belief.

He was quite candid, if in private, in revealing that he was unsure of what the Nameless might wish of him, while insisting that to act for what he believed to be good, even if others did not approve, was all that the Nameless could expect, given that the Nameless had seen fit to leave the definition of good to men and women. Moreover, because in their hearts they know they are not as good as they should be, they despise those who display themselves publicly as paragons of virtue, and rejoice when those paragons fall from grace or are shown to have hidden their true nature behind a silver mask of false virtue.

He closed the book and nodded. “Yes … I have had some thoughts along those lines.” Long before tonight, but tonight was just another example.

Later, when they lay in the bunk, side by side, Vaelora murmured in Quaeryt’s ear, “It’s a good thing you’re returning to Bovaria.”

“I fear that it is.” I just hope that matters, whatever they may be, have not progressed so far that more great bloodshed cannot be avoided. But he had strong doubts about that.