Princeps

24

Quaeryt and all but one squad of his entourage, as High Holder Chaffetz had termed it, left Chaffhyem at slightly after ninth glass and arrived before the more modest chateau of Aramyn by two quints past noon. The squad that had been detached, at Vaelora’s suggestion, was stationed on the post road to intercept any messenger that Chaffetz might be sending to Solis. Quaeryt did not intend to stop any such message, merely to delay it, add a message of his own, and send it on its way, but with the regular post rider to Solis. If Chaffetz dispatched no messenger, Quaeryt would simply report on his acts and the responses of the High Holders. What he didn’t want was an inaccurate and inflammatory letter going directly to Bhayar, not without the full story.

Aramyn’s chateau was not of stone but of a yellowish red brick, and appeared to be far older than Chaffetz’s hold. It sat on a low rise in the middle of a park, set in turn in the middle of a vast expanse of fields and a few meadows. Aramyn was better informed, inclined to be more hospitable, or had better trained functionaries, because Quaeryt and Vaelora were immediately invited inside and promptly joined by the High Holder and his wife.

Almost as quickly, Quaeryt found himself in a goldenwood-paneled study, whose shelves were crammed with books, standing talking with Aramyn, who showed little sign of offering a chair or wishing to seat himself. The High Holder had thinning black hair and a narrow face, with deep-set brown eyes separated by a straight thin nose. His forehead was furrowed, although his skin elsewhere was largely unwrinkled. Quaeryt judged him to be some fifteen or twenty years older than Quaeryt himself.

“Governor, I take it that this is not exactly a visit of courtesy, even with your wife accompanying you.” Aramyn paused. “Her name-Vaelora. It is not exactly common. I can recall only one other woman by that name, although she was but a child of four or so the last time I cast eyes on her. Also, while you are certainly no stripling, you are on the young side to be appointed a regional governor.”

“I’m arriving from the position of princeps of Tilbor.”

“Most interesting, I must say. I take it that you were involved in the last battles against the hill holders.”

“I was involved in the entire campaign and wounded in the final battle,” Quaeryt admitted.

“I wondered. I notice you have a slight limp.”

Quaeryt did not disabuse Aramyn’s conclusion, but waited to hear what else the other had to say.

The older man smiled. “Even more interesting. A scholar who has seen battle and who has served as a princeps married to a woman named Vaelora. You are both fortunate and unfortunate, Governor.”

“Might I inquire as to why you think so?”

“Much will be expected of you, in terms of accomplishment and loyalty. Perceived loyalty can often conflict with accomplishment. That has proved to be especially true, given the temperament of the descendants of Lhayar.”

Quaeryt certainly couldn’t disagree with Aramyn’s assessment.

“What are you here to ask?”

“For you to sell me supplies-at the price of nine silvers a barrel for flour and five coppers for two bushels of potatoes.”

Aramyn nodded. “You offer a modest profit. Might I ask why you are not commandeering those supplies?”

“I have no interest in forcing High Holders to pay to help others, since much of what I buy will help feed those left in Extela. I’d prefer that they not feel obligated to complain to Lord Bhayar.” Quaeryt grinned. “And that, if they do, he can see that they have no cause for such.”

“I will meet your terms, Governor. I have two requests, however. First, that you inform Lord Bhayar that I have done so without complaint.” Aramyn paused. “It is no secret that my sire and Lord Bhayar’s sire did not see eye to eye. I would wish that be laid to rest.”

“And second?”

“The answer to a question. How did you ever persuade her to marry you?”

Quaeryt couldn’t help but laugh. When he regained his composure, he replied, “I didn’t. Bhayar commanded us both. He said that I needed to be tied more closely to him, and that she needed to be married to someone suited to her-and quickly, so that he could actually spend time ruling.”

A broad smile crossed the lips of the High Holder. “Only someone trained as a scholar would be bright enough for her, from what I have heard. He must have known you well, then.”

“We had the same tutor years ago, and I have served him, on and off, since then.”

“How did you end up in Tilbor?”

“I made the mistake of saying I wasn’t about to advise him on how to handle matters in Tilbor without having been there. He sent me.” Quaeryt shrugged.

“So you are not afraid to tell him what he may not wish to hear?”

“I have my concerns, but I’ve been able to do so and survive.”

“May you always do so.” After the slightest hesitation, Aramyn said, “Let us determine how much flour and potatoes you require and when. Then we will join the ladies for refreshments … if you have time. I will also offer some to your soldiers.”

“We do, and I believe Vaelora would enjoy that very much. I know I would.”

In the end, Quaeryt and Vaelora did not return to the post until after third glass.

The squad dispatched to watch the south road returned to the post less than a quint before sunset, reporting that no one at all had been riding south.

Once they returned to the post, Quaeryt, Vaelora, and Jhalyt went to the strong room and counted out all the coins in the unlocked chest. It turned out that there were some coppers, and silvers, and the total came to 2,891 golds, 43 silvers, and 11 coppers. Quaeryt had the clerk enter that as the starting balance on the master ledger. The other chests could be counted later, and their balances added in, but given that Quaeryt would soon be paying out golds, he needed to keep track from the start.

Then he met with Meinyt about a possible Civic Patrol building. Meinyt reported that Captain Taenyd had found a vacant factorage not too far from the east bridge.

“Good. We can get started on fixing it and gathering the patrollers.”

“It’s not in the best part of town, sir,” Meinyt pointed out.

“That’s most likely where we’ll need patrollers. Can you work out with Major Dhaeryn how to get some men to make it usable? We can post notices asking for workers.”

“He’ll have more than he’ll want,” replied the major dryly.

“That might well be, but we don’t want troopers acting as civic patrollers any longer than necessary.”

“No, sir.”

After Meinyt left, Quaeryt found Jhalyt and Baharyt and gave them instructions, with Baharyt getting the task of finding out exactly where the patrol building-to-be was and coming up with a simple map so that Jhalyt could include it on the notices that would be posted.

After they left, Quaeryt just sat for several moments.

Should you have started with trying to reconstitute the Civic Patrol? He shook his head. That would have been foolish until he knew how he would have to pay for it … or anything else. But … it still bothered him.

Later on Jeudi night, well after dinner, and after he’d filled Vaelora in on what else had happened, the two of them stood on the stone balcony of the officers’ quarters, looking eastward where the two moons had lined up, one above the other, a symmetry that occurred so seldom that he could not recall the last time that had happened-and this time, the red-tinged half moon of Erion was above the half disc of the pearly-golden Artiema.

“What are you thinking now?” asked Vaelora.

“The moon of vengeance above the moon of love.”

“Isn’t that the way it’s been throughout time?”

“I suppose it has been.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been a long day.”

“You handle officers and troopers, patrollers, and repairs well enough. It’s dealing with High Holders that you’re not fond of, isn’t it?”

“I’m not fond of dealing with some of them. Chaffetz will be a problem. Aramyn went out of his way to be helpful.”

“So did his wife. I wish I knew why Grandpere and his sire did not get along.”

“Lord Chayar, from what I’ve heard in many places, was a just and fair ruler, but not always the most subtle of men, and his reaction to slights was said to be … disproportionate.”

“He did have a terrible temper, but he was good to me.”

That’s because you were still young and cute when he died.

“You’re thinking that’s because I was still a little girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He shrugged helplessly.

“That’s not disrespectful.” After the briefest hesitation, she added, with a smile, “Not quite.”

“Truth isn’t disrespect, dear.”

Vaelora glanced back at the moons. “No, it’s not, but some see it as such. I’ve talked to Bhayar about that. After you and I were married, he said that one of the reasons he did it was because you and I both conveyed unpleasant truths to him, and we both deserved to be married to each other.”

“He said that?”

“Close to word for word.”

Quaeryt could imagine Bhayar almost gloating over his plan to marry Quaeryt and Vaelora.

“You were going to say something more about High Holders, weren’t you?”

“Not that much. There were several in Tilbor who were not only intelligent, but honest and honorable. Most were intelligent, but so self-centered as to be a threat as a group to your brother.”

“A group of self-centered High Holders couldn’t act together enough to be a threat, could they? Or are you saying that because they only see things through their own eyes that their acts result in threats to Telaryn?”

“You say that so much more diplomatically than do I.”

“In what way?”

“The same fashion as here. Chaffetz was not satisfied with profits with which he would have been more than pleased a year ago, even three months ago. I suspect some of the others will not be, either. They wish even greater profits. Were they granted such, that would mean fewer golds will be available to your brother at a time when Rex Kharst is threatening. Yet if he or I force them to sell for less or commandeer their crops, then they become even more of a problem. Their desire to enhance themselves regardless of the consequences increases the threat to all Telaryn … and if that greed weakens the land to the point where Kharst defeats your brother, then they also will suffer.”

“Do you think that likely?”

“No. But it is possible, and they know it is possible-or they should-but each thinks only of himself, and feels that the other High Holders should be the ones to be reasonable.” He took another deep breath. “Tomorrow, when we visit Wystgahl, matters will be no different, and that saddens me.”

“It’s too bad that you have to deal with them all at once.”

“I have little choice. Dealing with them in a way that will not offend most of them would take weeks, if not months … and time is what we have little of. Even if I spent that time, some would still refuse to offer fair terms for supplies … unless threatened. That is the way it was in Tilbor, and I doubt it will be different here-except there the threats could be so much more indirect and there was time for them to be considered. Here … I fear that most of those High Holders I visit here will complain that I’ve not been fair … or suggest even worse.”

“I know. Why do you think I suggested you post that squad as a patrol?”

“I had that feeling.”

Vaelora turned to face him directly. “You need some rest.”

“Rest?”

Even in the dim light, he could see her blush, but she did reach out and take his hand as they moved toward the door of their quarters.