Ordermaster

LIX

Sevenday morning was quiet, and after writing a reply to Luryessa, the Sarronnese envoy, Kharl dispatched Erdyl with the missive. The fact that the envoy was a woman confirmed in Kharl′s mind that Sarronnyn, along with Southwind, was a land that still followed the Legend of ancient and vanished Westwind. The invitation, merely for afternoon refreshments, also raised the question of what the envoy wanted. Did she wish merely to learn more about Kharl and what was happening in Austra? Somehow, Kharl doubted that. The invitation had been too immediate.

Once Erdyl had left to tender the acceptance, Kharl went looking for Undercaptain Demyst and found him inspecting the unused barracks section of the space over the stables.

“What do you think?” Kharl asked.

Demyst turned, slowly. “They kept the place clean. Not much wear. Even has an armory off the back hall.”

“Ah … ser …″

Both Kharl and Demyst turned. Fundal stood at the end of the hallway.

“Yes, Fundal?” said Kharl.

“I couldn’t help but overhear what the undercaptain said, Lord Kharl. I’m gratified that he finds the barracks space here clean.”

Kharl repressed a smile. “It wasn’t clean when Lord Hensolas left?”

“No, ser. It was more like a hog pen.” The steward shook his head. “Too many armsmen.”

At Fundal’s expression, Kharl had another thought. “Did you do the cleaning up and the painting by yourself?”

“Mostly, ser. After they all left, things were quiet. Thought it was best to put matters to right. No sense in having someone else do it. Besides, I was worried about the coins.”

“You did a good job. We couldn’t even tell there were so many here.”

“Far too many,” Fundal replied. “At the end, there were almost threescore armsmen packed in here. Some of them couldn’t even speak properly. Mercenaries. I suggested to Lord Hensolas that it might be wiser to quarter some of them elsewhere, but he just put me off. ‘We’ll talk of that later, Fundal.’ Then, one twoday, they all left, and Lord Hensolas with them. He didn’t even leave any extra golds in the residence account. Drew out all the golds he could. The armsmen left some blades and a half score of rifles in a crate that they hadn’t even opened. I sold all that and put the golds in the account. Even with that being so, it barely lasted till you got here.”

Kharl could sense that the steward was telling the truth-and that he felt strongly about the situation. “Did they leave anything else? Other weapons? Tools?”

“Just an unopened keg of cammabark.” Fundal shook his head. “Cammabark, in a place where folk live. Didn’t get a bad price for it, though, but half of that went to Guarlt because I had to go through the Armorers’ Guild.”

Cammabark? A keg of it? In quarters over a stable where it could explode and burn down both the stable and the envoy’s residence? That bothered Kharl, not because it confirmed Hensolas’s treachery, but because it was so at odds with everything he had heard about the lord’s caution. “I’m glad you took care of all that.”

“That’s what a steward’s for, ser.” Fundal smiled, if faintly.

“Did you ever find out where all the mercenary guards came from?”

“Seemed like they came from everywhere. I heard one say he was fromJellico, and another was talking about being glad to leave Analeria. The others … they could have come from anywhere.”

″Thank you.″

“If you’ll not be needing me …″

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything,” Kharl promised.

He moved on toward the back hall. As Fundal had said, the armory had been repainted recently, and there was but the faintest sense of chaos in the space. In less than half a glass, Kharl finished going through the barracks and retainer quarters, and he and the undercaptain made their way back to the library in the main residence.

Kharl closed the door before speaking. “What do you think about what Fundal said?”

“He was telling the truth, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Cammabark? Be an idiot to keep that except in an underground and stone-walled armory, even with what it’s worth.”

“He didn′t take it with him,” Kharl mused. “I’d wager he didn’t buy it, either.”

“Why didn’t he sell it, then, the way Fundal did? Why did he leave the rifles?”

Those were good questions, especially since Hensolas had taken out all the golds he could. Kharl could only shrug.

He walked to the study window, the one nearest the rear of the dwelling, and looked out at the corner of the formal gardens. The white roses were in bloom, as were the lilies. One of the gardener’s boys was following his father, picking up the clippings that fell from the shears as the older man trimmed the boxwood hedge.

Beyond the garden and the grounds, through the trees, Kharl could just make out a far larger dwelling. For all that he had lived in Brysta most of his life, this was a section of the city about which he knew little.

“Ser?” asked the undercaptain.

“We need to take a ride,” Kharl said. “A carriage ride through and around Brysta. Mantar can tell us everything he knows. We need to learn more about Brysta.” Especially the parts that Kharl had never frequented.

“I suppose so, ser.”

“We might not have time, later.”

Demyst nodded.

“If you would tell Mantar to ready the carriage, then find Erdyl.”

“Yes, ser.” Demyst bowed, then turned.

Kharl had his reasons for the ride. First, he did want Demyst and Erdyl to see more of the city. Second, he wanted to see what had changed. Third, he wanted to see if he could sense any more concentration of chaos. And finally, he wanted to see where the other envoys were, as well as where the lord justicers and others of power and wealth lived. As he’d realized, looking beyond the residence gardens, those were parts of Brysta he’d never known, because the wealthy buyers of his barrels had always sent their retainers to pick up the cooperage-and what cooper ever had time to walk around the city?