Ordermaster

LXXI

Kharl and his small group did not manage to get back to the envoy’s residence in Brysta until close to dark on eightday. Kharl had avoided Peachill on the way back, not wanting to face it as a reminder that he had failed Warrl as well.

While they had been able to find shelter in one of the abandoned cots on sevenday night, time after time, all through eightday, they had been forced to leave the road and hide, to avoid being seen by armed road patrols, far more than they had seen on their way southward. Kharl hoped that was because of the disappearance of the one road patrol, and not because some armed action was about to begin.

After the evening meal, most welcome after two days of bread and cheese and dried meat, Kharl, Demyst, and Erdyl sat in the library.

“What do you think of the road?” Kharl looked at his secretary.

“I have never seen one so fine,” Erdyl admitted. “We traveled more than twenty kays, perhaps thirty, and it must continue for at least another ten.” He paused. “But, ser … I do not see the need. There were no large towns. According to the maps, Surien is more than five hundred kays to the south.”

Closer to six hundred, Kharl thought. “So why are the Nordlans building such a high road? Is that your question?”

“The Nordlans and the Hamorians,” suggested Demyst. “Hamor likes good roads.”

“They make it easier to control a land,” added Erdyl. “They maketransport easier. If we had a good road from Norbruel to Bruel … Ghardyl was always saying that we could see another hundred golds a year.”

“So Hamor is fanning the conflict between Lord West and Lord South to get Lord West to build the road?” Demyst set his goblet on the table, tilting his head slightly.

“They might even be paying for part of it.” Kharl thought that the Hamorians were going farther than that. He would not have been surprised if they were even supporting Egen in a bid to unseat his father-and his brothers. That way, Egen would at the very least owe Hamor, and if his bid failed, Nordla would be weakened and racked with conflict. Either way, it would be far easier for the emperor to begin the conquest of all of Nordla than it would have been otherwise.

“What can you do, ser?” asked Erdyl.

That was indeed the question. What could he do?

“I’ll have to think about that,” he finally replied. “It’s been a long eightday. ″

Later, he sat in the study, with but the single desk lamp lit, his eyes fixed on nothing, his thoughts spinning through his skull.

What should he do? Envoys were just supposed to report, weren′t they? To let Hagen and Ghrant know what was happening? But he had no way to send a report, and by the time he could, the West Quadrant would be a battlefield-or a fiefdom of Hamor.

He didn’t know for certain that Egen was going to replace his father, or when that might happen. Nor did he know what the Hamorians would do … or when. He didn’t think that it would be that long. At the least, he needed to be ready, to plan what he could do.

Deliberately, he took out a sheet of paper and a markstick, slowly sketching out a rough map of Brysta, and the surrounding area. If Egen held the harbor and the south, then the only way to leave the city was by the east road-really the southeast road-to Eolya. The north road to Sagana turned into little more than a dirt trail after a half score of kays, and there were no roads worthy of the name to the northeast or due east. That suggested that any movement of lancers or white wizards along the ring road from the south might indicate the beginning of whatever might happen.

He leaned back, trying to recall the road.

After a time, he folded his crude map, uncertain that he had accomplished anything.

Then there was Jeka. According to Erdyl, she was still with Gharan. What should he do there? He hadn’t been able to do anything for Jenevra and Charee, and they were dead. He’d tried to talk Arthal out of leaving, but his older son had been far too stubborn-like his father. He’d been too late to save Warrl, and Warrl had asked the very least of him.

He put his head in his hands. Why Warrl? He’d been only a child. He couldn’t have hurt Egen. He was too gentle to have hurt anyone.

After a time, Kharl lifted his head. He had to look ahead. He couldn’t undo what was done. What could he do for Jeka? Or Gharan? Did he have to do anything immediately?