Rex Regis

53

As before, Quaeryt did not see Seliadyn again on Meredi evening, or on Jeudi morning, when Northern Army left Vaestora. He did inquire of Wereas about Seliadyn’s health, and the steward replied that the High Holder was no better, but neither was he worse, and that he would prefer not to meet with Quaeryt unless the matter was urgent. While not encouraging, that news was better than it could have been … and Quaeryt had nothing of urgency to impart.

Despite skies that became increasingly cloudy, over the next three days, they made good time, and on Solayi evening, Northern Army camped on the grounds of a long-deserted high holding some fifteen milles south of Ariviana. Less than two days later, by midafternoon, Northern Army had settled into the inns and the buildings around them in Yapres, with Quaeryt again at the Copper Tankard.

When he and Justanan had taken care of the necessities, Quaeryt asked Calkoran to provide a squad and to accompany him on another visit to High Holder Caemren. Less than a glass later, they reined up outside the entry gates.

Once more, there was a single guard standing behind the iron gates and in front of the small guardhouse. While the guard wasn’t the same one who had challenged Quaeryt earlier, he looked at the commander, then offered a resigned look.

“I suppose you want to see the High Holder.” Without waiting for an answer, the guard walked to the middle of the gate, unlocked the chains, and then pulled the gate open.

Quaeryt, Calkoran, and the troopers rode up the stone-paved drive and reined up before the small covered receiving portico. A single functionary stood there, wearing the gray livery with white piping.

“If you’d announce me to High Holder Caemren. I’m Commander Quaeryt.”

In only a few moments, the footman returned with Caemren. Quaeryt was moderately surprised to see the High Holder in just a white shirt and gray trousers, rather than the colorful outfit he had been wearing on Quaeryt’s first visit.

“The word is that you seem to be in charge of the army of the north and that you’re leading the regiments back to Variana. Is that true?” asked the white-haired High Holder.

“You got the word rather swiftly,” replied Quaeryt.

“Since you’re here-again-you might as well come in.” Caemren turned and walked to the door, where he waited.

Quaeryt shook his head, dismounted, and handed his mount’s reins to the ranker who had moved up to take them. He motioned to Calkoran and the two officers walked to the entry.

“This is Subcommander Calkoran. High Holder Caemren.”

Caemren nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Subcommander.” He turned.

The two followed him to the terrace off the small salon on the northwest corner of the main section of the dwelling. All three sat down around the small circular table.

“You’re Pharsi, too, aren’t you, Subcommander?” asked Caemren.

“Khellan,” replied Calkoran.

Caemren nodded and turned to Quaeryt. “What do you want this time?”

“I thought you’d like to know what happened, but you apparently already know some if not all that occurred.”

“I understand that those of Kharst’s imagers who survived persuaded the submarshal to take you on. There’s a rumor that Erion arrived and destroyed them.”

“Let’s just say that their imaging was turned against them and the submarshal and that the hold house burned to the ground.”

“What about Lady Myranda?”

“She escaped. If she ever turns up, I imagine Lord Bhayar will have her executed.”

“That would be too merciful,” replied Caemren, his voice coldly sardonic.

“I wouldn’t know. I never met her. The events around her were less than favorable.”

“They seldom have been.”

“Tell me more about Seliadyn. About what happened to his family.”

“He has never spoken about them. His daughter and his wife died in a boating accident. They were both good swimmers.”

“Kharst’s imagers?”

“That was the supposition. He did not remarry. After his daughter died, he was … different.”

“His people seem very loyal to him,” observed Quaeryt.

“He is known for treating with them fairly. Anyone who succeeds him will need great experience. Seliadyn takes a lower tithe than most High Holders.”

“But if they produce more…”

Caemren smiled. “That blade has more than two edges, Commander, and all of them are sharp.”

“What do you know about Magiian?”

“You think I would know about him?”

“I think you would know about any person of power within fifty or even a hundred milles of Yapres. You could tell me the annual income of the Copper Tankard, I expect, and the wealth of the largest factors in Yapres.”

“I suppose I could come close.”

“Magiian,” prompted Quaeryt.

“He has extensive lands. Except for crops to supply the holding, his tenants plant oilseeds. Most of his flax is for linseed oil, but some goes to a small linen mill. He avoided Kharst. Kharst never paid much attention to him. Magiian cultivated the impression of being the descendant of a grower who stumbled into being a High Holder.”

“And he’s anything but, with the best mills and crop yields?”

Caemren nodded.

“How old is he?”

“Younger than I. We’ve met but a handful of times. I’ve never been to his place. I understand it’s modest.”

“Heirs?”

“He has two sons and two daughters. His wife always pled that she was carrying a child when she was invited to Variana. Since she did have a few, Kharst never pressed.”

Even after asking more questions, Quaeryt still hadn’t learned that much, and he finally asked, “What about you? You’ve avoided talking about your holdings and family.”

“There’s little enough to say. The holding has enough land to provide timber to Yapres, and we’ve got a clay quarry and brick kilns, and the east lands are wet and flat enough for maize. A little of this and that, but not enough of any one thing. Two sons, no daughters. One handles the brick-making and timber, the other the crops and tenants. My wife died ten years ago.” Caemren shrugged, as if to indicate there was little left to say.

Quaeryt didn’t feel like pushing. Instead, he stood. Caemren and Calkoran did as well, although a quick look of puzzlement crossed the High Holder’s face. Caemren gestured toward the door from the terrace to the salon, then led the way back to the main entry. Quaeryt could not help but notice how quiet the house was, as if inhabited only by Caemren and a few servants.

When they reached the portico, Caemren looked to Calkoran. “A pleasure meeting you, Subcommander.” His eyes flicked to Quaeryt. “And to see you and learn your mission was successful, Commander. I’d have been surprised if it hadn’t been.”

“I appreciate your confidence,” replied Quaeryt.

“Not confidence, just knowledge.” Caemren watched as the two officers mounted and then led the squad down the paved drive toward the gates.

Quaeryt thought over the brief meeting, which had only reinforced his feelings, about both Caemren and the High Holders of Bovaria.

“What did you think of the High Holder?” Quaeryt asked Calkoran.

“He is smart, and he will not cross you. He will only do what he must, but he will do it promptly. That is so he does not call attention to himself.”

“And he’s one of the better holders.”

“That surprises you?”

“No,” replied Quaeryt wryly, “but I could hope.”

Calkoran laughed.

After a moment so did Quaeryt.