Antiagon Fire

11

Quaeryt and Vaelora did not return to the canal boat until well after sixth glass and only ate lightly, given that High Holder Cleotyr’s “refreshments” had been endless and lavish. Solayi morning, they set out early because they had to cover more than six milles to pass through the two locks at Eluthyn and cross the Phraan River in order to meet Skarpa’s Southern Army and the Eleventh and Nineteenth Regiments by eighth glass.

They had covered close to three milles before they encountered the first of the grain boats heading eastward, followed by several others, which slowed their progress. The lockmasters did give them priority, that being assured by Zhelan riding ahead with a squad of first company, so that they cleared the second lock slightly before eighth glass.

At a quint past eighth glass Skarpa arrived at the moving canal boat and swung himself onboard. As he entered the salon, Vaelora began to rise from where she had been reading while Quaeryt sat at the narrow salon table, poring over a map of the lands of Khel.

“Please don’t leave because of me, Lady,” Skarpa said immediately. “As an envoy you need to hear anything I say. If you do not, then Quaeryt will not have your best judgment for counsel.” He held up a hand. “Do not tell me that you are but a woman or some such nonsense.”

Vaelora laughed. “I will not.” She moved to seat herself at the table beside her husband.

“How did matters go after we departed?” asked Quaeryt.

“Quietly.” Skarpa barked a harsh laugh. “You two terrified them, you know?”

“Cleonie was wary,” said Quaeryt.

“Her husband was far more than that. When he said good evening to me last night, he offered some words to the effect that he had seen more capability in his salon yesterday than in the entire Chateau Regis in the past ten years.”

“That has to have been an exaggeration. A number of the Bovarian officers were quite good tacticians and strategists,” returned Quaeryt dryly. “I know, unhappily. So do you.”

“That’s not the same thing,” interjected Vaelora. “A bad ruler can have good officers.”

“Especially lower-level senior officers,” pointed out Skarpa, with a quick look at Quaeryt.

“At times.” Quaeryt’s words were equally bland.

“You two.” A certain disgust colored Vaelora’s short response. “What else did he say?”

“He suggested, very indirectly, that when an effective commander married to a ruler’s sister was not a marshal, that alone was enough to treat the ruler with respect. He did say that sending you as an envoy, Lady Vaelora, showed a ruler well in control of his land.”

For now. Quaeryt did not voice that thought

“That is a useful impression,” she said.

“What else?” asked Quaeryt.

Skarpa smiled. “We did get quite a lot of supplies, especially grain for the horses. Sometimes, respect pays in more than words.”

“Not often enough,” replied Quaeryt, “but it’s good when it happens.” He fingered his chin. “I fear that the farther we travel from Variana, the less people, even High Holders, will know, and the less respect we will receive, and the more power we will have to display.”

“Even along the Great Canal?” asked Vaelora.

“Even here as we go west,” replied Skarpa. “As Cleotyr pointed out, the High Holders with the most power were gathered in the Chateau Regis. They would be the most knowledgeable. Few Bovarian officers survived the battle, and news travels slowly. More slowly here than in Telaryn, except along the Aluse.”

“The roads…?” inquired Vaelora.

“Your brother, your father, and your grandsire spent golds on good roads,” replied Skarpa. “Except for a few roads along the River Aluse, more and more we are discovering that Rex Kharst and his forbears did not.”

Vaelora looked to Quaeryt. “You wrote about roads and canals.”

“They date back to the Naedarans, and they are all along the River Aluse. Kharst and the Bovarians only used them, and the Naedarans never ruled even as far west as Variana.”

“But how could he rule so vast a land…?”

“Through the High Holders, I would judge, although that is just a guess. He had nothing like your brother’s provincial governors. That is why he needed a corps of trained assassins-and a spymaster-to assure that the High Holders followed his dictates … at least mostly.”

At that moment Quaeryt realized where else he had heard the name Ryel-from Lady Fauxyn after he had crippled her husband-and that mention had been anything but favorable.

After that, the three of them looked over the canal map and discussed possible stops on the way to Laaryn and then the possibilities for heading downriver.

After Skarpa departed, Quaeryt looked to Vaelora.

“You’re worried about something else, aren’t you, dearest?”

“Why do you say that?”

She just looked at him, her brown eyes conveying amusement.

He shook his head. “Several things. First, I read over the documents appointing us as envoys again this morning-very carefully.” He nodded to the document on the table.

“And?”

“I’d like you to read this section. The same wording is in your document, by the way.” Quaeryt pointed, then waited as Vaelora read through the words.

… he is empowered to treat for and make agreements with those required or empowered to make and comply with terms of allegiance to Lord Bhayar of Telaryn, save that no terms hereunto entered into may be construed as limiting the existing powers and authorities of Lord Bhayar …

She looked up, puzzled. “He’s just saying that we can make agreements for him, but those agreements can’t limit his existing powers in Bovaria and Telaryn.”

Quaeryt nodded. “But … what’s interesting is that those powers are not limited to dealing with Khel. They would also allow us to gain agreement with High Holders who do not think they are part of Bovaria, or…”

Vaelora’s eyes widened. “You don’t think?”

“I don’t know what to think, except he is very careful about what power he grants. And he did say that some of the southern High Holders and some in the north may not have paid tariffs in years. You see why I was concerned?”

“I can see that, but it may never come to such. What else?”

“I need to ride with first company and the regiments, at least for most of the day.”

“We’ll ride with them. I’m an envoy, too.”

“Only when you feel good. If you don’t…”

“I promise.”

Quaeryt had his doubts about that, but refrained from voicing them.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” pressed Vaelora.

“Nothing I can put a finger on … I still feel uneasy. Have you had any farsights?”

“Besides the one where I saw you surrounded by ice? I’m not so certain I want to see any more like that … except…”

“That farsight saved my life, dear.”

“I know. That’s why I said ‘except.’”

Quaeryt frowned. “You didn’t answer my question. Have you-”

“Yes … but I’m not going to talk about it. You know why. Anything you say about it might color what I recall-and that would be dangerous because I might not recall it accurately when the time comes to understand what it means. That was something Grandmere was very firm about.”

“She was firm about many things, I have no doubt.”

Quaeryt rose. “Are you ready to ride?”

“Are you?”

They both laughed.