Rex Regis

23

Quaeryt didn’t sleep all that well Jeudi evening, what with visions of Imagisle flitting through his dreams, and with unseen imagers imaging away buildings as soon as they were constructed … not to mention a raging flood that inundated everything. He woke up with a start and covered in sweat. Beside him, Vaelora was asleep, apparently peacefully. He eased the sheet away and just lay there cooling off, trying to compose himself, mentally going over the code of laws that he and Vaelora had begun putting together. He wished he had the treatise on law and justicing that he’d briefly borrowed from Aextyl, the old high justicer of Montagne, who had helped him so much before his death … a death, Quaeryt recalled with bittersweet clarity, for which he had been blamed, even while the dead justicer’s family had been appreciative of all that Quaeryt had done for their father.

Still, with the centuries-old law code Vaelora had unearthed from somewhere, and from what they both recalled, they’d made a decent start on a basic code of laws for the land that Bhayar hoped would be Solidar before too long.

“What are you thinking?” asked Vaelora, breaking into Quaeryt’s reverie.

“About the law code. I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was … until you started sighing so loudly.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We both ought to be up-” Vaelora raised an arm. “That’s not what I meant.”

“After last night…” Quaeryt began suggestively.

“Last night was last night. We both have too much to do today.” Vaelora sat up in the wide bed.

Quaeryt tried hard not to look too closely.

“I said enough … dearest.”

The “dearest” was offered warmly enough that Quaeryt didn’t feel quite so rejected as he got up to wash and dress.

When they sat down to the cool breakfast delivered to their quarters, he looked to Vaelora. “Has your brother mentioned anything about Myskyl?”

She shook her head.

“I think I’ll tell him how we’re coming on Imagisle-”

“Don’t call it that yet.”

“I won’t, except to him. I can report and then ask about Myskyl.”

“He’ll know what you’re doing.”

“Of course. But he did ask to be kept informed.” Quaeryt ate a bite of the cool egg toast. The sweet syrup helped in getting it down, and the tea was at least warm.

Immediately after breakfast he made his way to Bhayar’s study, where Bhayar was looking out the west window.

“What is it now?” asked Bhayar.

“I just thought you’d like to know that we cleared all the ruined buildings from the isle of piers. There are two sturdy warehouses we can convert to barracks, and an old anomen that shows possibilities. The rest wasn’t worth saving. I’ve got Lhandor working on plans for the isle. We’ll have to build up parts of it so it doesn’t suffer in the spring floods.”

“You won’t have to be there all the time now, then?”

“I wouldn’t think so, but I’ll likely have to be there a bit of most days for a time to make sure things go as planned.”

“You didn’t when the chateau was rebuilt.”

“That was because Voltyr was there. He’s in Antiago. Once we get started here, though, I think Baelthm and Horan can keep matters in order.”

“Good.”

“Have you heard anything from Submarshal Myskyl?” Quaeryt asked.

“No … and neither has Deucalon.”

Or Deucalon says he hasn’t. Quaeryt wasn’t about to verbalize that thought.

“Why are you so concerned? I didn’t hear anything from you and Vaelora all winter.”

“We were in Khel and in Antiago, much farther away, and it’s approaching summer, and you haven’t heard from Myskyl in more than two months.”

“What do you suggest I do? Send you to see what’s happened?”

It might not hurt. “That’s your decision, sir.”

“I’ve thought about it … If there’s no word in another week, we’ll have to consider it.” Bhayar shook his head. “It’s not like Myskyl.”

To the contrary, it’s very like him. He only communicates when it suits him … or when he has to. “That is a bit worrisome.”

“Quaeryt … I know you distrust Myskyl, but he has yet to prove that he is not to be trusted.”

He can be trusted to serve his own ends. “For your sake, sir, I hope that such proof never occurs.”

“Enough. Just go on and get your isle in order so that you can spend time administering all the troubling details that are cropping up.”

“I will … but you could send some of them to Vaelora right now.”

“I already have, but I’d feel better with both of you working on them.” Bhayar paused. “When will you have the draft of that codex done?”

“In a few days, we hope.”

“What about tariff schedules?”

“We’re working those out as part of the code.”

“And the tariff notices?”

“There’s no way we can send those yet, but they’re not due until the end of Erntyn.” Almost four months away. “We don’t have enough dispatch riders yet, and no dispatch stations, and we’re still working on a census of High Holders. The ones we’ve met with know what’s expected, and what happened to those who didn’t pledge allegiance should encourage all of them to pay. The factors already know they have to send them in.” Because we made that clear in every town through which we passed.

“We need dispatch rider stations to the west first. We have them along the River Aluse, all the way to Solis.”

“We could set the ones in the west up if we could use a battalion from the marshal’s forces,” observed Quaeryt.

“You plan where they should be. You’re the only one who’s ridden the entire way to Liantiago.”

“We can do that. I’ll have a recommendation for the locations for you by Lundi.”

“Good. That’s the sort of thing I expect from you.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was still barely before eighth glass when Quaeryt reached the headquarters holding and met with Khaern, Calkoran, and Zhelan. He asked all three for their thoughts on where the dispatch rider stations should be located. All of them agreed on the main locations in Eluthyn, Laaryn, Daaren, Croilles, and Kephria, but after that, there were other considerations.

“Talk it over with your experienced majors and captains, and the most senior squad leaders. I’d appreciate your complete recommendations by fourth glass this afternoon … if you can. Lord Bhayar is interested now…”

All three officers nodded.

Then they discussed the plans for the following week and other matters.

Next came a meeting with the imagers. Quaeryt began by saying, “After today and tomorrow, you’re all going to be working more on your own to build and rebuild the isle of piers. Lord Bhayar has made it most clear that he needs my efforts at rebuilding the administration of Bovaria. Given the work you did in rebuilding the Chateau Regis, I expect you will do well in rebuilding the isle. It will take longer.”

He smiled, then looked to Lhandor. “How are you doing?”

“I have several rough plans, sir,” offered Lhandor.

“Let’s see them.”

“They’re only rough, sir.”

“I understand. There’s little point in doing more than rough plans until we’ve cleared away the isle … but let me see them, if you would?”

Lhandor extended the sheaves of paper.

Quaeryt looked through them once, noting the careful drafting. He’d seen supposedly finished plans that didn’t compare. Then he went back to one plan and studied it again, placing it on the top of the stack he handed back to the young Pharsi undercaptain. “The one on top is the sort I have in mind. Bring that with you today, so that you can compare it to the lay of the isle.”

“Yes, sir.”

After a brief outline of what he planned for the day, Quaeryt dismissed the undercaptains. While the imagers readied their mounts and the duty company, Quaeryt sought out Gauswn, who had already started the student imagers on their lesson in an empty tack room.

The chorister walked to the door. “You won’t be needing them today?”

“No. Keep them at their lessons. We’re headed to the isle. With some fortune, it shouldn’t be long before we have a functioning anomen for you. We could use it as a place for lessons in the beginning … if that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I doubt the Nameless would object, Commander.” Gauswn smiled. “Undercaptain Baelthm was asking my thoughts about what might be necessary for refurbishing it.”

“Good.” Quaeryt paused, then asked, “How are you finding things here? I apologize for leaving you to your own devices so much. You only got here a few days after we returned from Antiago, and there’s been quite a bit to do.”

“You intend to rebuild that entire isle?”

Quaeryt nodded. “It’s not going to be just a military post, but a community, and that will require not only regimental quarters, but stables and housing for imagers and their families as well as housing for the senior rankers and officers who have families. And the anomen, of course.”

“Lord Bhayar agreed to that?” Gauswn smiled. “Did you give him much of a choice?”

“The situation gives him little choice,” said Quaeryt, going on to explain the difficulties of maintaining order in Lydar over time primarily by the use of or threat of force.

When Quaeryt finished, Gauswn looked evenly at Quaeryt. “And what of you and the imagers? After all the power you have shown … will you be content to allow another to rule less wisely than you might?”

“Content? Possibly not, but that is the only fashion in which Lydar can be ruled. The Naedarans used the power of imagers, and it failed them. Using imagers as a direct arm of the ruler made Antiago weak and a poor place to live.”

“And three heads are wiser than one,” concluded Gauswn.

Quaeryt suspected what the chorister meant, but asked softly, “Three?”

“Lord Bhayar’s, yours, and Lady Vaelora’s.”

“As well as the heads of those we consult,” added Quaeryt. “I already miss Skarpa. He was practical. So was Meinyt.”

“Did something happen to the major?” Gauswn looked concerned.

“Oh … no. Not that I know. He’s a regimental subcommander, and the acting regional governor for the area around Laaryn. But you can’t talk to someone when they’re hundreds of milles away.”

“That was your doing, wasn’t it?”

“Skarpa’s and mine,” Quaeryt admitted. “Meinyt’s practical and fair. He knows what he knows and what he doesn’t, and he’s got two imagers who are also practical to help him.”

“That was your doing.”

“It made sense.” Quaeryt laughed softly and ruefully. “But sometimes what seems to make sense doesn’t always.” He couldn’t help but think about his failure to correct the steward at Laetor, when he’d thought it hadn’t made sense to make what he’d thought was a minor correction in rank. A minor correction … and Skarpa is dead.

Gauswn looked at Quaeryt for several moments before speaking. “Only the Nameless is infallible. The rest of us must do the best we can.”

And sometimes I wonder about just how infallible the Nameless is, thought Quaeryt, if there even is a Nameless.

“Sir…?”

“Yes?”

“Subcommander Ernyld-I understand he is the chief of staff for the marshal-he approached me about conducting services…”

“Go ahead … but you really don’t need my approval. You might let Khaern and our other officers know also.”

“I’d thought to. You aren’t doing services…?”

Quaeryt shook his head. After all that I’ve done…? He forced a smile. “I need to be going.”

Gauswn smiled back.

Quaeryt just shook his head and hurried out to join the imagers and the duty company for the ride south to the north road and then east to Imagisle.

A half glass later, once the imagers were on Imagisle, Quaeryt decided that the first task was to build up the isle, especially the low spots on the east side, rather than have them work on buildings. First, he laid out what needed to be done. Then he undertook some moderately heavy imaging himself in lifting a layer of small boulders and large rocks into the flood pond, leaving a drainage channel and letting the displaced water flow back into the river, until the ground was level with the surrounding area and all the stagnant water was gone. After the other imagers had done another rotation of imaging in fill, he imaged in another large layer of rocky fill.

Before leaving them, he put Baelthm in nominal charge of the work.

As Quaeryt rode back toward the Chateau Regis, he hoped he could keep up that pattern for at least a week. By then, with luck, they might be done with the heavier earthworks, and the imagers could begin to put together the roads and initial buildings the Collegium would need. That will also give you the time to determine what buildings, besides barracks and stables, should be built first … and where. He also wanted to see what settling there might be, although his initial plan was to locate heavier buildings on the rockier and solid sections of the isle.

He reined up in the side courtyard of the Chateau Regis by slightly after first glass, turned the gelding over to the duty ostler, and hurried to the main floor chambers set aside for the Ministry of Administration.

Drawing a concealment around himself, he eased into the first chamber, where Vaelora was going over the ledgers with a pair of new clerks.

“If you have a question about where to make an entry, first look in the instruction book…” Vaelora held up a slim volume bound in red leather.

Quaeryt smiled. The folder had been a sheaf of papers until he bound them by imaging and turned the leather crimson.

He let her finish her instructions before dropping the concealment and clearing his throat.

“You’re back for the day … or just for a while?” she asked.

“For the day, unless Lord Bhayar decides otherwise. I thought we could try to finish the codes … or make an effort on them.”

Vaelora nodded, then turned to the clerks. “Tylasor … you’re to go through those papers and sort out all those dealing with stables, mounts, and fodder and anything else dealing with horses. Remember … the entries have to be in separate categories. Grain and fodder, gear, and that includes shoes and the costs of farriers; and the acquisition of mounts. Don’t forget to debit mounts that die or are sold to the knackers or renderers…”

Almost half a quint passed before Vaelora and Quaeryt were alone in their own ministerial study.

“How are they coming?” he asked.

“Slowly. The army clerks did the best they could, but…” She shook her head. “It will be a year before we have ledgers that are even close to accurate.”

“That’s what happens in a war … and when the land you conquer didn’t have good accounts to begin with … and none of them have survived.”

“Not in readable fashion.” Vaelora frowned just slightly. “I was looking over the part of the code we talked about last night.”

“Limiting the justicing rights of High Holders? What about it?”

“We need to make it clear that Bhayar isn’t really taking away their existing rights, but clarifying what has always been the practice.”

“That’s why we decided to differentiate between high and low justice.”

“There needs to be a better explanation about why the code is just setting forth what the practice has always been,” Vaelora said.

“Even if the most powerful High Holders had a tendency to ignore it?” asked Quaeryt almost humorously.

“That’s why…” Vaelora broke off, shaking her head. “You write it, then.”

“I did. You’re right. It could be better, but you try this time.”

Second glass came and went, as did two revisions of the introduction to the section on high and low justice before they were both satisfied with the wording.

They had turned to the revisions to the definitions of high crimes and treason when there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Quaeryt managed to keep the irritation from his voice.

“Commander, sir … Lord Bhayar would like to see you at your earliest convenience.”

“Me? Or Lady Vaelora? Or both of us?”

“You, sir. He didn’t say why.”

“I’ll be right there.” Quaeryt sat up, laid his pen on the rest, and looked at Vaelora. “You know more about this than I do anyway.”

“You write better.”

Quaeryt shook his head, then stood. “You write better. I write more plainly.”

“You don’t write that plainly. Neither of us does. That’s part of the problem.”

She’s right about that. “I’ll be back as soon as I can be.”

“I’ll not be holding my breath, dearest.”

They both smiled, and then Quaeryt walked to the study door, opening it behind him, closing it, and nodding to the waiting squad leader.

When Quaeryt entered the study, Bhayar looked up from the conference table, stacked with papers … and an old map. “When will you be able to take over the Bovarian treasury?”

“At least a month, and that’s if we can use Deucalon’s guards.”

“Why can’t you just use your troopers?”

“Because that’s a very bad idea, and it will be worse once things on Imagisle become obvious. I don’t think you want the head of the imagers having physical control of the treasury. It’s one thing to keep records and set forth the laws, but you need control of those golds here. Everyone should know that they’re your golds, under your control, and that they’re not being passed out by a Pharsi imager.”

“For an officer Deucalon worries about being too ambitious, you certainly aren’t grabbing at golds or power.” Bhayar’s voice was dryly sardonic.

“I want enough power to protect the imagers and to set up the Collegium so that future imagers will always be protected by their service to the ruler.”

“That’s another question. I can’t really go on being Lord Bhayar of Telaryn, Tilbor, Bovaria, and Antiago … and Khel … if that idiotic High Council ever agrees to terms.”

“You’ve already said that the combined lands would be called Solidar. Why not call yourself ‘Lord Bhayar, Rex Regis’? That way, you’re still Lord Bhayar, but you’re asserting that you are the rex of all lands.”

“Hmmm…” Bhayar fingered his smooth-shaven chin. “That might work. I’ll have to think about it, though.”

Quaeryt waited.

“This imager business,” mused Bhayar. “I must say that I have my doubts about why this Collegium is necessary.”

“It’s most necessary, sir. Where do your doubts lie?”

“You and most of your imagers can do great things, yet you continue to insist that they need the protection of your Collegium. I’m hesitant to dispute you. I’ve learned that you are usually right when you feel strongly. Could you explain why you feel this strongly? In a way that I could explain to others?”

“I will, but I would prefer that you keep the complete explanation between you and Aelina … and Clayar, when he is older. I trust you will see why when I finish.”

“So do I,” replied Bhayar dryly.

“The imagers who serve you now-except for the student imagers-are the survivors. They’ve survived being distrusted and attempts on their lives before they became undercaptains. A number survived by living away from others, and some of the undercaptains didn’t survive the battles. Akoryt died because he couldn’t learn new skills quickly enough. Shaelyt died because he was required to do more than his body could take. I suspect two or three times the number of imagers we have gathered likely died all across Lydar just during the time these wars have gone on. Baelthm is an accomplished and precise imager of smaller things, and he might be able to protect himself against single assailants, but not against many or for long. As I told you weeks ago, even I would have trouble protecting myself day in and day out against the threat of attacks. None of the student imagers could come close, and if young imagers are killed year after year before they can protect themselves, where will the imagers come from to support and protect Clayar? The Collegium can protect its own, especially with guards from the regiments for the first years, until the Collegium is established, but there will never be enough imagers born, even across all of Lydar, to pose a threat to the land. The land is what poses the threat to the imagers.”

Bhayar nodded slowly. “I must confess, after seeing the destruction you created, I had not considered that side of matters.”

“It’s like Clayar. You protect him while he is young so that he can grow to be strong. The same is true of the imagers. Why do you think so many parents have given up their children when they learned there might be a place for them? Even in Antiago, parents felt that having a child serve the Autarch as an imager was a better life for them-and he kept them under lock and key much of the time.” Quaeryt cleared his throat before going on. “Part of the problem is exactly what you observed. People see what the strongest of imagers can do, but they don’t think about how unprotected the weaker imagers are. By necessity, those remaining undercaptains are the strongest-and there are just nine of us left.” Ten, if we count Elsior. “Nine in all of Lydar. Without keeping them together and training the young ones, in less than a decade there would be few left, and you would again have to be especially concerned about ambitious commanders or marshals like Rescalyn … even more so, given the size of Lydar.”

“You give me few choices, Quaeryt.”

“A fool has many choices, a wise man far fewer.”

“Sometimes … talking to you can depress and discourage a man. There are times when I wish you were in places like Antiago or Khel.”

Quaeryt nodded. “That’s another reason why you need me as maître of the Collegium, busy on Imagisle and not too close to you, but close enough that you can call upon me and the Collegium as necessary.”

“Enough of that. What am I to do with Telaryn … and Aelina?”

“You could send Commander Pulaskyr to Solis as a submarshal and as regional governor … That will free Aelina to join you here.”

“Why Pulaskyr?”

“Who else could you trust?”

“Do you trust him?”

“Far more than any other commander you have, except my two, and Meinyt, and my two aren’t experienced enough for anything like that. Meinyt’s better as a regional governor where he is.”

“There are others I trust besides Pulaskyr.”

“Such as?”

“Am I ruling … or are you?”

“You are, but I’d like to know. I don’t know all the commanders.”

“Justanan and Moravan are both trustworthy.”

“Is either here?”

“They’re both with Myskyl.”

Quaeryt noted that Bhayar hadn’t mentioned Luchan. “Then my recommendation of Pulaskyr stands, sir. But you asked. I suggested. The choice is yours, sir.”

Bhayar shook his head. “At times, you remind me of my father, and you’re younger than I am.”

Not by that much. But Quaeryt wasn’t about to say that.

“You might have something there. I’ll think about it. Now … you said you’d have recommendations for setting up dispatch stations…?”

“On Lundi, sir. Some of the locations are obvious. Others…”

Bhayar nodded, but his question reminded Quaeryt that he would have to ride back to headquarters to see what his officers had come up with in recommending dispatch rider posts.

After a moment Bhayar grinned. “That’s enough for now. I’m looking forward to reading that code of laws. No one will be pleased, you know, if you and Vaelora do a good job on it.”

“We’ve considered that.”

“We’ll have a family dinner tonight.”

“No High Holders?”

“There aren’t any left near here that I haven’t seen enough of, not that matter. I’ll see you two later.” Bhayar turned toward the window.

Quaeryt slipped out of the study, heading back to Vaelora … and the issues of high crimes and treason.