Ordermaster

LXXIII

Once he returned to the residence, Kharl went to the library to await Erdyl’s return from the Sarronnese envoy’s. He and Gharan-and Jeka-had worked out a pattern for Cantyl-one that could be woven in linen or wool. Kharl had ordered forty yards, in various weights and fabrics-enough to reupholster the not-quite-threadbare chairs in the dining room. Doubtless it was an extravagance of sorts, but Gharan had stood by him when few had.

As for Jeka …

Kharl walked to the window overlooking the garden. He shook his head. He’d forgotten her eyes … and her directness. It didn′t matter to her that he was now a lord, and she’d suggested from the beginning that he was more than a cooper. Her insight and directness-those he had missed. And for all her blunt talk, she saw more than the educated and lordly young Erdyl. All that was fine. What had bothered him had been his physical reaction. He’d wanted to sweep her into his arms, to never let her go. It wasn′t just that he hadn’t been with a woman in a while, either. Herana-the second mate on the Southshield-had been attractive and had made a play for him. So had ser Arynal’s daughters, especially Meyena. But Jeka … she was a good ten years younger than he was, maybe fifteen. She was older than she let on, probably close to five or six years older than Arthal … than Arthal had been.

Abruptly, Kharl turned and began to rummage through the stack of papers on one side of the desk, until he came up with the listing of cases before the lord justicers. His eyes ran down the sheet. Werwal’s trial was set for fourday. Kharl would be there. What he could do for the renderer who had once befriended him was another matter.

At the rap on the door, Kharl turned. “Yes?”

“Ser …” Erdyl took a step into the chamber.

“I’d like to hear what you found out. She was there? The assistant?”

Erdyl nodded.

“Ah … you’d better have the undercaptain join us, too.”

“Yes, ser.”

When Erdyl returned momentarily with Demyst, the three settled into chairs around the desk.

“What did you find out from her?” asked Kharl.

“Jemelya?” Erdyl’s voice was casual.

“You like her?”

Demyst smothered a grin at Kharl’s question.

“She’s years older than I am, ser.” Erdyl smiled sheepishly. “She is beautiful, though.”

“Beautiful women are dangerous,” suggested the undercaptain. “Then, maybe all women are.” He laughed nervously.

“What did she say?” asked Kharl.

“She didn’t say all that much. Well … she talked a lot, but … She knew about the patrollers’ barracks. She said that the one in the harbor has an armory, and that there are three companies billeted there, and none of the patroller rankers can have consorts.”

“She said it that way?” asked Demyst.

“Yes, ser.”

“They think of them as armsmen, then,” Kharl said.

“She never said that … oh, I see … companies … billeted … rankers … armory …″ Erdyl nodded.

“What about the other barracks in the south?”

“She said that held five mounted companies and another four arms companies. She also said that there was another new barracks to the east, just off Angle Road. I’m sure she said Angle Road. That only holds six foot companies, but there’s an armory there that also has cannon.”

“Loaded with grapeshot,” Kharl suggested.

“She didn’t mention that.”

“No, but it makes sense. That’s the road that Osten and Vielam would have to use to bring their armsmen back to Brysta,” Kharl pointed out.

“It’s not a Hamorian barracks,” Erdyl said.

Kharl shook his head. He’d never said anything to them about his suspicions. Should he? He fingered his bare chin. There was no point in hiding his thoughts now.

“Ser?”

“I’ve been thinking about all this. All those patrollers are nothing more than a small army. They all report to Captain Egen. He’s Lord West’s youngest son. He’s moved the regular lancers and armsmen-the ones that might be more loyal to Lord West or Overcaptain Osten-to the quarry fort in the south. That means they’re farther from Brysta, and his patrollers control who travels south, or who can do so quickly, anyway.”

“That means they can′t know what’s happening in Brysta, not soon,” suggested the undercaptain, “unless this Egen wants them to know.”

“Egen’s also the one dealing with the Hamorians.”

“You think he’s trying to get rid of his brother and succeed his father?” asked Demyst.

“I don′t know. He’s an evil little bastard, and he wouldn’t hesitate to do something like that if he thought he could get away with it. He’s also tightenedup the laws and is having the lord justicers sentence more men to work in the quarries and, I’d guess, on that road as well.”

“The Hamorians are backing him?” Erdyl moistened his lips.

“The cloth for the patroller uniforms comes from Hamor. There are only Hamorian ships in the harbor. The Hamorians are supplying engineers, and they’re often in the south.” Kharl paused. “And more than half the envoys from other lands have left Brysta, for one reason or another.”

“When is something going to happen?” asked Demyst.

“Soon, but how soon, I don’t know. I’m hoping I can find out more from Lord West tomorrow.”

“I’d better see about looking into hiring a night guard or two,” suggested the undercaptain. “We can afford that, can’t we?”

“You think they’ll come after an envoy?” asked Erdyl.

“Egen will come after anyone he thinks he can best.” Kharl snorted.

“You know a lot about him?” Demyst frowned.

“Enough.” More than enough, Kharl added to himself. “The guards are a good idea. I should talk to them before you hire them, though.”

“I’d planned on that, ser. Mantar has some cousins, used to be armsmen. Thought I could talk to them first.”

“You might have Enelya get a look at them, too.”

Erdyl and Demyst exchanged glances.

“She knows about some of the worst ones.” Kharl looked to Erdyl. “Did Jemelya tell you anything else we should know?”

“She said that the roads to the east weren’t usually passable during the late-summer rains. Not with any speed, leastwise.”

“I think she’s suggesting that when the rains finally come, so will trouble,” ventured the undercaptain.

That made an unfortunate kind of sense to Kharl. “Anything else?”

“I can′t think of anything. I mean, she talked a lot, about everything from the good taverns to Overcaptain Osten’s consort only giving him three daughters and Egen not having a consort, and Vielam’s consort and children dying last summer when their coach went off the road and into the river …″

Kharl winced.

“Ser?”

“I’d wager that the coach accident was planned. That leaves no heirs.”

“Planned by who?” asked Demyst. “Egen or the Hamorians?”

“I’d say Hamor. That’s just a guess.” Kharl’s eyes rested on Erdyl once again.

“That’s all, ser. I think. If I recall anything else, I’ll tell you.”

Kharl stood. “After we eat, Erdyl, I’d like you to make the rounds of the envoys’ residences. Ask for the secretaries or assistants. If they’re there, ask about the date you’ve chosen for our function. What I really want to know is how many of them are still in Brysta and how many have left or are planning on leaving soon.”

“Yes, ser.”

“When you get back, you and I will go over what I’ll need to expect when I present my credentials tomorrow. And some good meaningless phrases.”

Erdyl bobbed his head.

“I’ll start on trying to find some guards, ser, this afternoon. Unless you need me,” said Demyst.

“Not this afternoon.”

After Erdyl and Demyst left, Kharl paced back and forth across the residence library. Everything seemed calm in Brysta, but beneath that apparent calm everything was unsettled, and likely to get more so in the days ahead. He paused and looked out the window. The sky was still clear. So far.

Before long, Khelaya and Enelya would be serving the midday meal. Kharl wasn′t that hungry, but he supposed that he needed to eat. The way matters were going, he might have to do magery at any time.

He tried not to think about Jeka, but the image of her eyes, and the sound of her laugh, remained with him.