Princeps

51

On Samedi morning, Quaeryt had been late getting to the post, not arriving until two quints past seventh glass. By ninth glass, Pharyl had sent him reports that some of the poor had gathered in the southwest market square and were complaining that the governor was no longer selling flour and potatoes … or even giving either to the very poorest. Quaeryt and Skarpa met, decided, and immediately dispatched several companies from Third Battalion.

Quaeryt thought about accompanying the troopers, then decided against it. His presence was more likely to incite those who were complaining than to calm them because they’d all be yelling that he had somehow betrayed them, and to keep order, even more force would be required.

Still, as he waited, Quaeryt couldn’t help but ponder about the situation in which he found himself. For far more than the first time, he wanted to shake his head. If he provided flour at a reasonable price for the poorer inhabitants of Extela, the factors and holders complained. If he didn’t, the poor complained.

He’d gotten the aqueduct and the east river bridge repaired. He’d re-formed the Civic Patrol and largely restored order. He’d recovered what was left of the treasury in order to pay the patrollers and to pay for the supplies needed to make the repairs. Except for the Pharsi women and a few others, it seemed as though, no matter what he did, someone was unhappy.

No wonder some governors find a way to pocket everything they can. Since they please no one, they might as well please themselves.

He pushed those thoughts aside because they wouldn’t help and took out the master ledger just to see how actual expenditures compared to what he’d estimated and how much was left in the provincial treasury.

Less than a quint later, before he’d finished his calculations, Skarpa knocked on the door and stepped inside.

“Thought you’d like to hear what happened.”

Quaeryt gestured to the chairs.

Skarpa smiled as he seated himself, a folder in his hand. “As soon as the companies appeared, the troublemakers slipped away. Pharyl’s patrollers nabbed a couple who had weapons, and I ordered Jusaph to have his company patrol the square for the next glass, and the others to sweep through the city. All the reports are that the shops are open, and nothing seems much different from any other market Samedi.”

“How long will it take not to have to use troopers?”

“Not too much longer, I’d guess. We barely had to show up. Pharyl’s whipping the Civic Patrol into better shape.”

“Still … we’ve been fortunate to have you here this long. Why do you think that is?” asked Quaeryt. “I’d have thought Bhayar would have ordered you to Ferravyl sooner.”

The commander shifted his weight in the chair and offered a slight frown before speaking. “I’d guess that he wants to leave Third Regiment as long as he can. He knows things can’t be settled in a month. But he’ll need us before we can do all that needs to be done here. That’s why you’re governor.”

“Go on,” suggested Quaeryt.

Skarpa shrugged. “I don’t claim to know much about governing, except it’s not often done well. The men who govern aren’t idiots, no matter what anyone says. That tells me that it’s not near as easy as it looks. There aren’t many who want good governors. Most want a governor who will help them. You’re not like that. I think Lord Bhayar wants you to clean up the place, but he doesn’t know how bad it got. No one would have dared to tell him. So he’s thinking that if you’ve got a regiment for a month or maybe two, you can take care of things. After that, sir, you’re on your own.”

“I’m getting that feeling.” Quaeryt paused. “Who’s likely to be the best officer here at the post for training? Once you depart, we’ll need more local troopers.”

“I’d try Undercaptain Shanyt. Came up the long way.”

“You already asked around, didn’t you?”

“Now, sir … would I be a decent commander if I didn’t learn the lay of the land?”

Quaeryt grinned, almost laughing at the mock innocence in Skarpa’s voice. Then he shook his head. “Thank you. And have you suggested to him that he start recruiting?”

“I think he might have lined up a score or so…”

Quaeryt was going to miss Skarpa, far more than he’d realized. “I appreciate that. We’ll need them.”

“He’s a good man. Make a good captain.”

In short, promote him, you idiot. “If you’d have your clerks draw up the papers … if you haven’t already.”

Skarpa extracted several sheets from the folder. “As a matter of fact, sir…”

“And there are several others there as well, I take it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, sir.”

Quaeryt laughed.

After Skarpa had left, Quaeryt took a deep breath. He’d been kept out of more trouble by a few others-Skarpa, Aextyl, Pharyl, for starters-more times than he wanted to count, and some of those he’d lost or would soon lose. He just hoped he’d learned enough.

After finishing the discouraging business with the master ledger, he decided to take a break and try to come up with at least a few thoughts for a homily. He pushed away the nagging feeling that he should already have paid a visit to meet with Siemprit’s junior chorister.

What was the man’s name? Quaeryt struggled to recall, then nodded. Neoryn.

Next week. He’d get to it next week.

Then he tried to think about the homily.

More than two quints later, he finally came up with something, and when he finished, he looked down at the few sentences he had written.

A man I did not know long or well died this past week, but he was a man whom I respected, and who suffered because he was honest and he held to his principles. He was willing to help me up to the day of his death, and he saved me from making several mistakes …

His eyes strayed from the paper on the desk to the study window of the villa, still without hangings, out into the bedraggled remnants of what had once been a garden …

What else can you say?

After a time, he added a few more lines.

He agreed to help me because he thought it was right, not for the fame or fortune that had bypassed him. He will not be lauded, except by me and a few others. Nor will his name be praised unto the generations, outside his family, yet I will remember and respect his dignity and honesty …

Quaeryt nodded. He needed more, but he had a good beginning for the homily.