Rex Regis

13

By leaving Berryhyl early on Solayi and putting in a long day, although only one minor bridge repair was required, and by leaving the small hamlet of Souwal early on Lundi morning, first company came into sight of Semlem just before second glass that afternoon. Even the southern outskirts of Semlem were anything but inspiring, with houses that were little more than large boxes with single-slant roofs and overlapped plank walls with peeling gray-washed walls and small windows.

“The men will like the extra time in a town,” said Khaern from where he rode beside Quaeryt.

“Even in this town?” asked Quaeryt.

“After all the hamlets, any town will do.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Quaeryt could see the faintest headshake from Vaelora.

The not-quite-ramshackle dwellings on the south side of Semlem slowly gave way to roughly dressed stone-walled homes and shops as they neared the center of Semlem-a stone-paved square with yet another statue in the middle.

Is the worship of the Nameless only a pretense here? Quaeryt wondered, especially when he saw a large anomen a block north of the square. Or did those who had been Rex of Bovaria believe that Naming was not a sin for rulers?

On the north side of the square was the inn, a structure smaller, if not by much, than the inn in Berryhyl, but one that was equally old, but more imposing by virtue of its gray stone construction. Quaeryt turned his mount toward the inn, and the necessary process of obtaining food and lodging for sums that would not exhaust his limited funds, but which would not also amount to outright commandeering of what he needed for men and mounts.

Once he had settled matters with the innkeeper, who seemed, if not agreeable, grudgingly accepting of Quaeryt’s offer for lodging and fare, Quaeryt relayed the billeting orders to Zhelan and the two subcommanders, then returned with Vaelora to talk with the innkeeper in the main entry hall.

“Who are the High Holders here?” Quaeryt asked.

“There’s Lenglan of Norwal. The old holder died in the battle at Variana. He’s the heir. So he’s the one owns the mines in the hills east of here. Got a hold house just north of town on the river. Then there’s Patarak. He doesn’t leave his place much, not since he got thrown in the hunt a few years back. Must be sixty if he’s a day. His estate is southeast, if you take the lane off the south pier for two milles.”

“Are there any others?”

“Depends on whether you count High Holder Farlan. Has a summer hold maybe ten milles north, right on the river. Don’t know where his main hold is, except it’s somewhere near Eluthyn.”

When Quaeryt finished with the innkeeper, he walked with Vaelora up the steps, following an inn chambermaid to their rooms.

“I think we’ll send a message to High Holder Lenglan, saying that we’ll be paying him a call between fourth and fifth glass.”

“If you’re going to give notice, I think you should bring a full company and the imagers.”

“I’d thought that. While you’re getting washed up and changed, I’ll talk it over with Zhelan, Khaern, and Calkoran before I decide on the company.”

“Changed? Into what?”

“Your best riding outfit.”

“None of them…” She shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll work something out.”

After leaving Vaelora in their chamber, Quaeryt returned to the main level of the inn, sent a trooper with a message that he needed to meet briefly with his senior officers and the imager undercaptains, and repaired to the otherwise empty public room for Zhelan to gather the imager undercaptains and for Calkoran and Khaern to join them.

Calkoran was the first to arrive. Then came Khaern, followed by Zhelan and the undercaptains.

“Thank you all for coming quickly. This won’t take long. It’s only rumor, but I’ve been led to understand that High Holder Lenglan is a less than golden heir of a thoroughly disreputable sire who was a close acquaintance of Rex Kharst. The sire was at Variana and perished with Kharst. The father maintained an inordinate number of armsmen and specialized in the overt kidnapping and subsequent use of attractive young women who were never seen again. Lady Vaelora and I intend to pay a call on the High Holder between fourth and fifth glass. I need a company to deliver the invitation. The imager undercaptains will accompany the company and will provide the necessary persuasion. That persuasion is to be applied gradually, beginning with the removal of gates and walls and proceeding to the removal of guards and functionaries only as necessary. You undercaptains will need to shield yourselves and the company because I want no injuries or wounds to our troopers. Is that clear?”

The four undercaptains and Elsior nodded.

“Subcommanders?”

“We would be pleased,” offered Calkoran. “It would be a pleasure to deliver such a message to a Bovarian High Holder.”

“Thank you. We’ll await the results of your visit.”

Quaeryt spent another quint inspecting the inn and checking the stables and the progress of billeting before returning to Vaelora.

From the window in their inn chamber, Quaeryt could see the center of the town, with the usual square. To the west, if he leaned forward, slightly out the open window, he could also see the two river piers, but the upriver pier was unlike any he’d ever recalled seeing. It was U-shaped, and there was a flatboat tied in place, its stem firmly against the middle shore section of the pier. From the inn window, Quaeryt watched while two dray horses pulled a narrow but strongly constructed wagon up a ramp from the flatboat and onto the pier, and then up a paved ramp to the main street. As the wagon passed below, he could see that it was empty.

“What are you watching?” asked Vaelora from where she stood before a mirror and worked on her hair.

“An empty wagon coming off a flatboat. They must cart ore or rough metal north somewhere, and then return the horses and wagons by flatboat.”

“What would they do with the flatboats?”

“I don’t know, but there must be some use for them.”

A glass later, a ranker knocked on the door and informed Quaeryt that Calkoran’s company had returned. Quaeryt hurried down to the public room, where the undercaptains and Calkoran waited.

“How did it go?” asked Quaeryt.

Lhandor and Khalis exchanged glances. Horan shook his head ruefully.

Finally, Calkoran spoke. “The hold has large iron gates. There is a wall all around the house and the other buildings. The guards at the gate refused to speak to me. So Landor removed the gates. Then some crossbowmen fired at us. Horan shielded us. Khalis imaged away their crossbows. I said that they should convey your invitation to the High Holder. Someone rang a bell. Before long two squads came charging at us. The undercaptains imaged pepper and smoke into their ranks. That stopped most of them. The head of the guards threatened us. He used vile language. So I called on Baelthm. He put out both his eyes with silver daggers. I told him we were doing our best to convey a polite invitation. He wasn’t listening. His squad leader was. I told him that we really didn’t want to kill them all, but that they weren’t leaving us much choice.” Calkoran shook his head.

“And?”

“He laughed,” said Calkoran. “So I called on Khalis. He removed his neck and let his head fall on the ground. He stopped laughing. So did the others. The crossbowmen ran, and the riders rode away. The guards said they would convey your message.”

Quaeryt nodded slowly. “It appears as though I’ll need you all when we call again on the good High Holder.”

“It would be our pleasure again,” insisted Calkoran.

“We’ll leave in a quint.”

When Quaeryt returned to the chamber, Vaelora immediately asked, “Well? Was he receptive?”

“Not in the slightest.” Quaeryt conveyed what had occurred.

“You’re not going to level the place?”

“Not yet. I’ll give the High Holder a last chance. Some of them do learn.” Besides … we don’t want to get in the habit of leveling every hold for reactions based on what they did in the past. We’d have to level too many of them.

* * *

Two quints later, Quaeryt, Vaelora, Calkoran, and the undercaptains rode up to the stone wall and the gate pillars that marked the entry to Norwal.

Four mounted guards with sheathed blades were stationed inside the walls.

While Quaeryt was ready to order the imagers to destroy a good section of the holding walls if there happened to be the slightest sign of resistance, the lead guard immediately called out, “High Holder Lenglan bids you welcome to Norwal.”

Then the four guards turned and rode slowly up the gray-stone-paved lane that led to the long two-story dwelling situated on the top of a rise overlooking the Phraan River to the west. The entry portico was on the east side.

“Subcommander,” said Quaeryt, “if you and the undercaptains will follow and remain in position near the hold house. Undercaptains, you’re to provide shields if there is any indication of trouble. If we do not return, although I do not expect that, you are to reduce the entire holding to rubble.”

“Yes, sir.”

Two footmen stood at the top of the steps leading up to the portico. When Quaeryt and Vaelora reined up, one announced, “Holder Lenglan awaits you.”

Quaeryt dismounted and held out the hand, his good one, that Vaelora did not need as she followed. They walked up onto the portico. Standing at the far side, just outside the open double doors to the hold, was Lenglan, a man of moderate height, with comparatively short brown hair, brownish hazel eyes. He wore a rich brown jacket over an ivory shirt, with trousers that matched his jacket, and well-polished brown boots. His welcoming smile included his eyes. The smile alone made Quaeryt exceedingly wary.

“The lady and the commander,” offered Lenglan in a warm and welcoming tone, after a bow. “I presume, Lady, that you must be a relation to Lord Bhayar, his sister, perhaps, since it is known that his wife remains as regent of Telaryn.”

That suggested to Quaeryt that Lenglan’s sire, and perhaps Lenglan himself, had indeed possessed a close tie to the late Rex Kharst.

“His youngest sister,” returned Vaelora.

“And returning from Khel as his envoy to the High Council,” added Quaeryt.

“Ah hah … most interesting, and I would love to hear more. If you would join me in the salon. I would wish to provide my own lady, but I cannot, for I have not yet wed. I saw little purpose in that while my father was yet a strong and vigorous man.” He gestured toward the doors, then turned to lead them inside.

Quaeryt made certain his shields covered Vaelora, then nodded to her. They followed, matching Lenglan’s measured pace. Inside the doors was a large, but not overlarge, circular receiving hall with a lightly domed ceiling finished in smooth white plaster. The lower walls, up to the simple goldenwood crown molding that separated them from the ceiling, were covered in pale goldenwood paneling set off by goldenwood faux columns. The floor was composed of alternating squares of polished white and gray marble. There was a small closed door on each side of the hall and a large archway at the end of the hall. Beyond the arch was a long corridor that appeared to stretch the length of the house in each direction, and directly opposite the archway was another set of open double doors, leading into a long and narrow room with wide windows at the end, clearly overlooking a formal garden, with a less formal garden set out on the slope leading down to the river and an elaborate boathouse flanked by two piers.

In the space short of the windows, the young holder, certainly not any older than Vaelora, stopped and turned. “Whatever seating arrangements you prefer.”

“Why don’t you sit there,” suggested Quaeryt, pointing to the chair at a right angle to the gray velvet couch.

Lenglan stood by the chair, but did not seat himself until Vaelora settled into the far end of the couch. Quaeryt took the other chair, the one facing the holder, then removed his visor cap and set it on the low corner table.

Neither Lenglan’s eyes nor his expression changed as he looked at Quaeryt, although there was the faintest hint of a nod.

“I would offer refreshments, and will if you wish, but I doubt that such was the primary purpose of your call. Might I ask the purpose of your visit?”

“My brother has suggested that, in the course of our travels, we visit the more notable High Holders as we can,” said Vaelora. “We were fortunate enough to arrive in Semlem early enough to see you.”

“Notable? I fear not. What have I done, save inherit the holding?”

“The holding is considered to be quite notable, according to those up and down this part of the Phraan River,” said Quaeryt mildly. “You have silver mines, and it would appear that you also quarry stone.”

“The copper mines produce more, but there are costs that are not inconsiderable.”

“You reduce the ore and ship it north, but refine the silver here?”

“That is so.”

“What do you do with the flatboats once they return here?” asked Vaelora.

Lenglan smiled. “We sell them to High Holder Nephyl at a slight profit.”

“And he uses them to ship his bricks farther downriver.”

“I presume so.”

“Most efficient,” said Quaeryt, “in addition to being notable.”

“Notable … a rather interesting word.”

“Apparently, your sire had quite a reputation.”

“Am I to be judged for what he did? Are the acts of the father the acts of the son?”

“Not unless the son does as his sire did,” replied Quaeryt. “Your father paid for his close support of a reckless and poor ruler. You will not be held responsible for his support … so long as you pledge allegiance to Lord Bhayar, who has already proven both more successful and responsible … and so long as your conduct meets the standards that he has set for High Holders. At present, there is no evidence that you have failed in either allegiance or in conduct. Lord Bhayar would prefer that you do not fail.”

“Oh? How sure of that can one be?”

Vaelora smiled, then said sweetly, “It is so tiresome to remove High Holders and replace them. The commander has removed five since the beginning of the year, and destroyed their holds, but allowed one heir to retain the lands and rebuild. He has also found a number of other holders well suited to retaining their lands.”

“How many, pray tell?”

“Something like a half score are hale and well … of those we have visited,” replied Quaeryt. That was likely technically a slight exaggeration, because they had not visited some High Holders whose reputations had seemed adequate. “And only those High Holders in Antiago, Shahibs they call themselves, who fought and died in battle were removed, only to be replaced by their heirs. So far, anyway. But Quaeryt doubted that Skarpa would remove anyone without extreme cause.

Lenglan frowned. “Antiago? What might Antiago have to do…”

“Our pardon,” said Vaelora quickly, before Quaeryt could reply. “You have not heard? Antiago is now under the rule of Lord Bhayar. The commander and Submarshal Skarpa destroyed the Autarch and his forces. The commander and I are returning to Variana to provide details to my brother.”

Lenglan looked hard at Quaeryt. “Might you be the commander said to have destroyed the forces of Rex Kharst?”

“He is,” replied Vaelora. “Twice. At Ferravyl and at Variana.”

“And you are here talking to me … a small High Holder along a modest river in the hinterlands of Bovaria?”

“It is the quickest way back to Variana. It has also allowed us to repair bridges and roads as part of an effort to restore the roads of Bovaria. My imagers do not just destroy. They also build.”

For a long moment the young High Holder sat immobile. Finally, he said, “I must thank you for your forbearance.” A rueful smile crossed his face, one that Quaeryt trusted not at all. “What else might you require of me, other than pledging allegiance … and respectable conduct.”

“In time, if you have not done so already, Lord Bhayar will require a onetime token tariff of one hundred golds for this year. He knows you or your sire already paid the annual tariff, but he is incurring significant costs in his efforts to rebuild Bovaria and deal with many aspects of the land that have been neglected.”

“I will pay you now…”

Quaeryt shook his head. “You will discover who to pay and when. We thought you should know.” He glanced to Vaelora.

She gave the briefest and smallest of nods.

Quaeryt rose, extending a hand to Vaelora.

“It has been a pleasure to meet you, Lenglan of Norwal,” she said. “I trust we will hear nothing but good of you in the months and years to come.”

Lenglan rose quickly. “I will do my best to meet those expectations. Let me see you off properly.” He turned and moved toward the grand entryway.

As they followed him, Quaeryt eased forward and said in a low voice to the young holder, “There is one other thing. I think Lord Bhayar would be very disappointed if any more young women disappeared from the streets of Semlem. I know Lady Vaelora and I would be, and I’d very much not wish to make a special trip here to deal with the situation. I’ll also be letting it be known that such is our feeling to those in certain positions in town.” Quaeryt smiled as warmly as he could. “I just thought you’d appreciate knowing that.”

Lenglan flushed slightly and looked at Quaeryt as if to say something.

Quaeryt projected power and certainty.

The young High Holder paled, but said in a low voice, “I do appreciate your kindness in letting me know quietly. There will be no more instances of such, overexaggerated as such reports doubtless were.”

“I’m glad to hear that such rumors were exaggerations, but I did wish you to know, as we have informed other High Holders that Lord Bhayar expects a far higher standard of conduct and behavior from all his High Holders, both here, in Antiago, and in Telaryn. He crushed those in Tilbor and those in southern Bovaria who failed to understand that.”

“Why do you tell me this, then?”

“He also believes in giving High Holders an opportunity to show their allegiance and worthiness.” After a moment Quaeryt added, “Once.”

Lenglan nodded. “I believe I understand.”

“I believe you do.”

The young holder, clearly uneasy, stepped aside, but walked beside Quaeryt and Vaelora to the portico steps, then watched as they mounted and rode back down the wide stone-paved drive.

Once they were on the river road back to Semlem, the sun hanging just over the trees on the west side of the Phraan River, Quaeryt turned in the saddle. “What do you think?”

“He’s a spoiled brat, but he’s a very intelligent spoiled brat. You won’t have changed the way he feels, but there won’t be any trouble with his tariffs or with the local women.”

“He’ll seek out women elsewhere?”

“I think not. I suspect he’ll have an inordinate amount of serving maids who are paid rather better than the local wages. Some may leave his service, but they will leave alive and in health. He likes being High Holder far more than he likes any other personal pleasure, and you frightened him to his core.”

“But…?”

“It might not hurt to send him a missive every so often, inquiring about his health.”

Quaeryt nodded, knowing that his problems in dealing with High Holders and others of position were only beginning … especially if he continued to be successful. He reminded himself that he needed to write a short missive to High Holder Patarak, regretting that the nature of their travel to Variana made a visit impossible, but trusting that Patarak’s allegiance to Lord Bhayar remained firm.