Ordermaster

XXXIV

The next two days were filled with audiences. Standing beside Hagen, Kharl watched, and occasionally made quiet observations to the lord-chancellor as Lord Ghrant heard the pleas of those lords who had not been so loyal as they might have been. The one guilty lord who did not appear before Lord Ghrant-and Kharl and Hagen-was Azeolis.

Several glasses after the last audience on sevenday, Kharl and Hagenwere sharing a small evening meal in the lord-chancellor’s study. Kharl’s thoughts went back to the last audience, the one for a Lord Benin, a round-faced man who had seemed more ineffectual than lordly to Kharl. As he had with the others, Ghrant had found Benin guilty of not fully supporting his Lord, had pardoned Benin, and like the others, required a slightly higher annual tariff from the lord for the next five years.

“How much longer will he hold audiences?” Kharl asked, after taking a sip of the lager he preferred over wine-at least the wine he had tasted at the Great House. “There can’t be many lords left, guilty ones who are still alive, anyway.”

“There’s only Azeolis,” Hagen said. “His audience will be the very last. For the first days on the coming eightday, Ghrant will be seeing the loyal lords-and the regents for those who were killed by the rebels for being loyal. He will praise them and honor them.” Hagen’s voice turned sardonic. “He will try not to have to honor them excessively, or with more golds or lands than he plans to take from the estates of the rebel lords.”

“Am I to be there?”

Hagen laughed. “How could you not be there? The most powerful mage in the history of Austra? That is part of the performance. You will not have to say anything, unless you discover something that is highly untoward, but part of the reason for the audiences is to remind each lord of what happened to the rebels.”

Kharl could see the need for that-unfortunately. “What about Azeolis?” He had an idea, but he was still learning about the politics of governing, and he felt more comfortable having Hagen explain than trying to guess.

“There will be one long audience to deal with the dead rebel lords, and their heirs-and with Azeolis. Lord Ghrant wants the most unpleasant aspects handled at one time.”

“Will he take all their lands?”

Hagen paused to take a mouthful of the duck confit before replying. “He has already let that be known, if quietly.”

“So that the heirs will leave Austra? Isn’t he afraid that they’ll plunder their estates to raise golds?”

“There are guards at all the rebel estates. If the heirs slip away … so long as the estates remain intact …” Hagen shrugged. “Most of the value is in the lands and the livestock and equipment.”

“He’d prefer that they leave, rather than being exiled?”

“They will be exiled, and if they try to remain, they face a lifetime in gaol.”

Kharl found that he had little sympathy for the rebel lords, or for their heirs. They had all held great wealth and lands, and the heirs had enjoyed that wealth as well. Lord Ghrant, while not the most prepossessing of men, had certainly not acted cruelly or wantonly, not from what anyone had said. Nor had Kharl found chaos or evil within the young ruler. He did worry that Ghrant was not so strong as a ruler should be; but after having suffered under the cruel strength of Lord West and his son Egen in Brysta, Kharl was willing to deal with a ruler who did not rely solely on the iron fist or the whip.

At that thought, his lips curled slightly. He had provided that sort of force, if only against the rebels and the Hamorians. Force had its necessary place, but it was a question of balance. He almost laughed. For a man who had never thought about balance, he had come to consider its place in everything in recent eightdays.

“You find the exile amusing?” asked Hagen.

“No, ser. I was thinking about force, and how it must be balanced. I was also wondering why men with so much wealth and such great lands would revolt against a ruler who had done nothing to them.”

“He seemed to show weakness. Weakness-or the appearance of weakness-is an invitation to some. That is why Azeolis’s audience will be the last.”

Kharl sensed the darkness behind Hagen’s words. “He’ll be made an example, then.”

“Yes. It will be ugly-and unhappily necessary.” After a pause, the lord-chancellor asked, “How do you like the duck?”

“Very much. I’ve never had it before, not like this.”

“I persuaded the cooks to try an old family recipe.”

“It’s good.” The mage could tell that Hagen was not pleased with the idea of making Azeolis into an example, and yet that the lord-chancellor was convinced that it was necessary. Or was it that Hagen was disturbed that such an example was required?

He hesitated to ask the next question, knowing the answer already. Still … “You haven’t any word from the Seastag?”

“No. We won’t unless they port in Lydiar at the same time as the Seasprite. You worry about the boy, I know, but …”

Kharl nodded. Warrl should be safe with his aunt and uncle, but Kharl would have felt much better to have his son at Cantyl. Yet there was no way he could travel to Nordla, not at the moment.

He glanced down at the remaining portion of the duck on the green-bordered white bone china. Finally, he took another sip of the lager, then slowly cut a thin slice of the duck.