Rex Regis

20

Vaelora had barely joined Quaeryt for breakfast in their sitting room when she announced, “There are no tables or chairs or even cases in the studies we’ll be using.”

“We also don’t have golds for them.”

“Skarpa sent a paychest with you,” she said.

“That’s from Southern Army.” Quaeryt paused. “I suppose we could lend from it to the Bovarian Ministry of Supply. There must be a hundred golds left, and Bhayar did say he’d pay for our expenses.”

“Good. I’ll come with you to headquarters and get the golds.”

“And take a squad and one of our supply wagons with you?”

“Why not? Is anyone else using it?”

“No.” Quaeryt laughed. “Just purchase or order solid and simple table desks, chairs, or cases, and chests? Where, might I ask?”

“You’re almost being disrespectful, dearest. I have made inquiries of the staff and the serving maids.”

“Aren’t most of them from Paitrak’s house holding?”

“Not all of them. Some came from other High Holders. Some are locals who heard that Bhayar was fair and paid as promised.”

You should have known. “Why don’t you come with me when I leave for headquarters, then?”

“Thank you for asking, dearest.”

Quaeryt winced at the cool edge to her voice. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about how we need to get the roads and bridges finished before something else happens.”

“Did you have a dream or a farsight?”

He was relieved to hear curiosity. “No … but it seems as though, whenever things are quiet, it doesn’t last.”

“So we should enjoy the quiet while it lasts.”

“So we should.” He smiled at her, then took a swallow of the lukewarm tea, before picking up a biscuit, splitting it, and slathering it with mixed berry preserves.

Before all that long, they rode north to the headquarters holding, accompanied by a half squad of duty troopers, where Quaeryt made arrangements, including disbursing golds, for Vaelora’s logistics expedition. After seeing her off, he met quickly with the senior officers, and then headed out with the imagers and the duty company toward the north bridge over the River Aluse.

Under a sun that was much warmer than on either Solayi or Lundi, by two quints past third glass, Quaeryt could tell that the imagers were exhausted. He couldn’t complain. They’d imaged a solid bridge across the Aluse and finished the rest of the north road so that it ran smoothly all the way from the chateau to the bridge and across it. The Bovarians or the factors of Variana could Namer-well make improvements on the east side. They’d even replaced the south bridge, and completed a few hundred yards of stone paving heading west from the bridge. Further roadwork would have to wait until Meredi, and Quaeryt hoped that the imagers could begin work on the isle of piers on Jeudi, beginning with a permanent bridge.

With those thoughts in mind, he gave the orders to stop imaging and to form up for the return to the headquarters holding.

“Have you heard anything from Submarshal Skarpa, sir?” asked Khalis as he rode up to rejoin the others.

“No. I wouldn’t expect a message or a dispatch anytime soon. We’ve been here less than a week, and it would take almost that long for a rider to reach Kephria from Liantiago. Even with fresh mounts, without established posts along the way, dispatch riders couldn’t make the rest of the ride to Variana much more quickly than a week less than it took us.”

Khalis nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“We don’t because dispatch stations exist all over Telaryn.” Just another thing that we need to establish here. Quaeryt mentally noted to add that to his list of logistic improvements needed in Bovaria.

“Do you think we’ll be called to build some of them?”

“I hope no one thinks of that immediately. We need to get started on the isle before anyone gets any ideas of what else we might build.”

“So that imagers have a place that’s theirs?”

Quaeryt nodded.

A heavyset man, a merchant of some sort from his jacket, hurried toward Quaeryt as he rode at the head of the column past a cluster of shops on the section of the south road that they had not rebuilt. “Officer! Sir? Will you be repairing this road the way you did the north road?”

Quaeryt slowed the gelding, but immediately checked his shields, hoping that the man wasn’t a diversion for an attack. “Why do you ask?”

“Because folks have already stopped using the south road.”

Quaeryt smiled. “We’ve already replaced the south bridge and some of the south road. If there’s no trouble, we should finish this part of the road all the way to the circle around the Chateau Regis in the next few days.”

“It wouldn’t hurt if the west river drive got stone paving, sir,” suggested the merchant.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t, but we can only do so much.”

“Thank you, sir.” The corpulent merchant, breathing heavily, inclined his head and stepped back.

Quaeryt looked to Khalis.

The young Pharsi undercaptain shook his head. “Everyone always wants more, don’t they?”

“When did you not notice that?” asked Quaeryt dryly.

Khalis laughed.

A good two quints passed before Quaeryt reined up in the rear courtyard of the headquarters holding. The Eleventh Regiment duty squad leader hurried toward Quaeryt.

“Sir … there’s a chorister waiting for you in your study.”

“A chorister?”

“He says he served under you in Tilbor.”

“Gauswn? He’s here?”

“Yes, sir … Some others as well. Youths.”

Imager students? “I’ll see him. If you’d see to my mount. I’ll be needing him later to ride to the Chateau Regis.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt dismounted and hurried across the courtyard. Why is Gauswn here? Has Tilbor turned against the young imagers … or just the scholarium?

Quaeryt had barely stepped inside the study when he was greeted exuberantly.

“Commander!” Gauswn’s eyes widened slightly as he took in Quaeryt, but that was the only indication of surprise. He remained slender, but he was clearly a chorister in gray and with the short black and white traveling scarf. “I see you’ve been promoted since your last letter.”

“Such can happen in wartime. How are you? Why are you here?” Quaeryt’s eyes went to the four youths standing behind the chorister, whom he had once thought of as a young officer, yet Gauswn was at least ten years older than Khalis and Lhandor were. The four youths looked to range in age from around ten to twelve or thirteen. Two wore the student browns of the scholarium in Tilbora.

Gauswn half turned to the students. “This is Commander Quaeryt. He is also a scholar, and as I’ve told you, if he wished, he could be the best chorister in all of Lydar.”

“Your chorister is too free with his praise,” demurred Quaeryt, “and he’s a fine chorister in his own right.”

Gauswn extended a sealed envelope to Quaeryt. “This is from Governor Straesyr. It might be best if you read it first, sir. I can answer any questions after that.” He turned to the four youths. “Wait outside in the corridor. Don’t stray. This is an army post, and you could get hurt … or worse.”

“Yes, sir,” came the chorused response.

Quaeryt opened the letter and began to read.

Dear Quaeryt-

I won’t even attempt a title. You’ve had so many in such a short time. I’ve made the decision to suggest that Chorister Gauswn and his two students travel across Telaryn and Bovaria to meet you in Variana. I’ve supplied mounts and golds, and they will ride with our dispatch riders.

I have my doubts that the scholarium here is the best place for the students, and Gauswn is wasted there. With what I gather is your objective, you’ll need someone like Gauswn, and you will certainly need the imagers, as will Lord Bhayar, and any others that Gauswn can find along the way.

Mistress Eluisa D’Taelmyn sends her regards and her appreciation for your redressing a situation that she could not. Her father, if he is still alive, is Taelmyn D’Alte, and her youngest sister is Rhella. She would be pleased if you would contact them, if it is possible.

Try not to destroy more than necessary in seeking your aims.

Quaeryt couldn’t help but smile at the last line. He had to admit that he missed Straesyr, even though they had not always seen eye-to-eye, especially in the beginning, but he’d learned a great deal from the governor. And you should have learned more. The message from Mistress Eluisa was definitely unexpected, but welcome … and a good suggestion. He tucked the letter inside his uniform shirt.

“Do you have any questions, sir?”

“About the letter? No. I take it that matters at the scholarium did not turn out as you might have wished?”

Gauswn smiled, slightly ruefully. “The governor is overly concerned. The scholarium will survive. It will likely prosper modestly … so long as…”

“The scholars are not required to deal with imagers as students?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why did you leave … or are you planning on returning?”

“No, sir. Not if you can find a position for me as a chorister.”

Quaeryt burst into a grin. “I’d be glad to have you as a chorister. Not only that, but we might just have an anomen, in a few weeks, for you.” He went on to explain about his plans and the ruined anomen on the isle of piers.

After he had finished, Gauswn said, “I still might request an occasional homily from you.”

“Very occasional … if matters work out.” Quaeryt made the qualification because matters hadn’t yet worked out in the fashion he’d anticipated. “We’ll have to find temporary quarters for you and the students, but we can call them trainees, and no one will complain. And since Eleventh Regiment has no chorister…”

At that moment there was a solid rap on the door.

“Yes?”

Begging your pardon, sir,” came a voice from the corridor, “but there’s a junior squad leader here with dispatches for you personally. They’re from Liantiago. He’s most insistent.”

“If they’re from Liantiago, it’s urgent,” replied Quaeryt. “Show him in.”

The young squad leader who entered the study looked totally exhausted, with deep circles under his eyes. Even so, he looked askance at Gauswn as he handed the two sealed envelopes to Quaeryt.

“Captain Gauswn was one of my officers in Tilbor,” Quaeryt explained. “He’s acted as escort for some student imagers.”

“Yes, sir. The top dispatch is from Undercaptain Voltyr, the other one, sealed in green, is from Subcommander Alazyn. I have another for Marshal Deucalon, but he is at the Chateau Regis with Lord Bhayar. He’s not expected back soon.”

“Is the other also from Undercaptain Voltyr?”

“I don’t know, sir. It’s sealed. Twice.”

Quaeryt felt a cold chill. “It will take you close to two quints to reach the Chateau Regis. You’d best hurry.” He offered a smile he didn’t feel. “Thank you.”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as the squad leader left, Quaeryt used his belt knife to slit the envelope, opening it quickly and unfolding the sheets within.

Commander-

Submarshal Skarpa is dead. He was killed by a man named Chaellonyt, who claims to be the heir of Chaelaet, the former High Holder of Laetor. Chaellonyt used a small crossbow from cover when the submarshal left a staff meeting, from which we were excluded. We could not move quickly enough to shield him because of where we had been placed as a result of Commander Kharllon’s concerns about our reporting on the meeting. Threkhyl imaged a block before Chaellonyt’s mount, and we captured him. The assassin stated that he killed Submarshal Skarpa because the submarshal had personally destroyed his holding and ruined his father, who died in the battle for Barna …

Quaeryt paused. Personally destroyed? Then he swallowed as he recalled that the assistant steward had called him “submarshal,” and he had not corrected the man. The assistant steward must have passed on that the “submarshal” had personally destroyed the hold. And Chaellonyt thought that Skarpa had done it.

“Sir?” asked Gauswn.

Quaeryt looked up from the partially read dispatch. He swallowed again. “Skarpa. He was killed by the heir of a rebel High Holder because the imagers and I leveled his hold house and forfeited his lands to Bhayar.”

“But you were under Commander Skarpa’s orders, weren’t you…”

Quaeryt shook his head. “My command was independent. Skarpa agreed reluctantly, but it was my decision and my act. And he paid for it.” All because you didn’t correct a misunderstanding. But that was something Quaeryt couldn’t afford to admit publicly, because it would reflect badly on Bhayar. Are you sure? Was there any doubt? Deucalon, Myskyl, and Kharllon would all use any admission against Bhayar … and Quaeryt and the imagers. And you can’t afford that. “Excuse me. I need to finish reading the dispatch.”

… Commander Kharllon has assumed the position of acting governor of Antiago.

Under the command of Subcommander Alazyn, Nineteenth Regiment and first company have removed from Liantiago to Westisle, where we have begun to establish a Telaryn base to assure that Lord Bhayar retains control of the port at Westisle. I felt that accompanying Nineteenth Regiment was in accord with your orders, but do not hesitate to change those orders as you see fit. I did inform Commander Kharllon of your orders and that I would request your confirmation or change to them.

For your information, we have also obtained two trainees, and may receive a third in the next week.

Quaeryt’s smile was bittersweet. Voltyr had more nerve than Quaeryt might have had in his position, and both Alazyn and the imagers were far better off separated from Kharllon. Even so, Voltyr would have his hands full. He slipped the sheets back into the envelope and then slit open the one from Alazyn.

Commander-

Submarshal Skarpa was killed by a Bovarian High Holder’s son earlier today. With his death, Commander Kharllon assumed command of Southern Army. He insisted that Nineteenth Regiment was under his command. I noted that Nineteenth Regiment was assigned to the envoys directly, and that you and Lady Vaelora had requested that the regiment support Submarshal Skarpa. With his death, command reverted to you or those under you.

The compromise we reached, until we receive orders from you or Lord Bhayar, is that Nineteenth Regiment and first company would invest the port of Westisle to assure that Telaryn controls all major ports of Antiago, save Hassyl. The imagers have begun to convert old warehouses adjoining the port quarter into barracks and facilities. These can be used by any Telaryn forces as necessary.

I felt you should know these facts in order to present them, as you see fit, to Lord Bhayar and Marshal Deucalon.

Obediently yours.

The signature was that of Alazyn Zyntarsyn, Subcommander.

Quaeryt quickly folded the sheets and stuffed them back in the envelope. “I’m going to have to leave you. But let’s get you and the boys settled for now.” He stood and headed for the door.

Gauswn followed.

Quaeryt quickly explained the situation with Gauswn and the new trainees to the duty squad leader, since Zhelan was not immediately available, gave him instructions, then reclaimed his mount.

As he rode quickly toward the Chateau Regis, Quaeryt thought about the dispatches. Both had been dated the nineteenth of Maris. That meant the dispatch riders had covered the distance in a little less than three weeks. Quaeryt shook his head. They could have covered the same distance in Telaryn in less than a week. A week and a half. The roads aren’t that straight. Then there was the fact that the dispatch rider hadn’t said anything about a dispatch to Bhayar … and Skarpa-and thus Kharllon-reported directly to Bhayar.

Did Chaellonyt kill Skarpa because he thought Skarpa was me? Or because Skarpa was in command? Or for both reasons? Why did it have to happen that way? And then there was the problem of Voltyr and Threkhyl not being able to protect Skarpa because of Kharllon’s concern about the imagers finding out something. Quaeryt didn’t think that was an excuse by Voltyr. Voltyr had never made excuses. Threkhyl, perhaps, but not Voltyr.

Two rankers were waiting at the side entrance to Chateau Regis to take Quaeryt’s mount.

“Lord Bhayar is in his study, sir.”

“Thank you.” Quaeryt dismounted. “Is the marshal there?”

“No, sir. He left half a quint ago.”

Quaeryt held back a frown. He hadn’t seen Deucalon or any riders on the road from headquarters. “Do you know where he went?”

“No, sir, but he was riding west.”

“Thank you.” Quaeryt hurried through the oak door and then down the lower-level hall to the circular staircase that rose two flights to the upper level of the chateau.

The ranker by the study door opened it for Quaeryt even before he reached it. He stepped inside.

Bhayar was indeed waiting, pacing back and forth in front of the windows. “I sent for you, but I see you already know. When did you find out?”

“Two quints ago. The dispatch rider said that he had a dispatch for Deucalon, and I’d heard he was meeting with you.” Quaeryt wondered why he hadn’t seen a rider heading for headquarters.

“He had dispatches for both Deucalon and me. They were both the same … from Kharllon. Acting governor Kharllon.”

“I didn’t see any rankers riding to headquarters,” Quaeryt said blandly. “Or Deucalon.”

“I’m not surprised. Deucalon asked permission to send a courier a back way.”

“To see how soon I’d arrive?”

“I imagine.” Bhayar smiled faintly. “Would you care to read my dispatch?”

“I would. I thought you might read the two I received.”

“Two?”

“Voltyr and Alazyn.”

“Ah … yes.”

Quaeryt extended both dispatches and took the one Bhayar handed him.

Both men began to read.

Quaeryt had no doubts as to how the matter would be presented, except how delicately Kharllon would do so.

Lord Bhayar,

Lord of Telaryn, Bovaria, and Antiago

It is my sad duty to report to you that Submarshal Skarpa was murdered earlier today by one Chaellonyt, who claims to be the heir to a holding in southern Bovaria and who was disinherited for his father’s failure to pledge allegiance to you. The assassin escaped the notice of both the imagers and Submarshal Skarpa’s men and killed the submarshal with a single shot. The submarshal’s men did capture the assassin, and he will be executed once we have extracted as much information as possible.

I must report, regretfully, that Subcommander Alazyn insisted that his orders from Commander Quaeryt did not place him under the direct command of Southern Army, but only as a supporting regiment under independent command. I did not choose to contest this after first company and the imagers also supported this convoluted interpretation of the chain of the command. As a temporary measure, subject to change upon receipt of your direct orders, Nineteenth Regiment and first company, supported by the imagers, are investing the port of Westisle to assure its loyalty to you. This action, of necessity, has left Southern Army’s main forces without the capabilities of the imager undercaptains, a fact I must reluctantly emphasize …

Quaeryt shook his head but continued to read the remainder of the dispatch, which consisted of a report on the status of the six regiments now commanded by Kharllon and the progress Skarpa had made in returning Liantiago to some semblance of order in the nearly three weeks between the capture of the city and Skarpa’s assassination.

Quaeryt lowered the dispatch and waited for Bhayar to speak.

“You’d best keep these for now,” said Bhayar, extending the two envelopes and their enclosures to Quaeryt, “but if you or Vaelora would make me copies, I would appreciate it.”

Quaeryt understood exactly what Bhayar’s request meant. “You’ll have copies tomorrow.” He handed back Bhayar’s dispatch.

“What would you recommend that I do in Antiago?” asked Bhayar.

“Confirm Kharllon as acting governor, but don’t make him a submarshal for now, and inform him that he reports to you and that you will assure that any dispatches he sends to you will also reach Marshal Deucalon. Tell him that governors always report directly to the lord.”

Bhayar nodded. “And Alazyn?”

“Let him hold Westisle. That’s also a good place for the imagers.”

“I thought you wanted them all here.”

“What happened in Antiago changed my mind. I think there should be two Collegiums. Or rather one Collegium with two locations. That way, you’ll have two bases of power. Also, you could tell Kharllon that he can certainly call upon the imagers for specific tasks, but not for continuing duty. That way…”

“I understand that much, Quaeryt,” Bhayar said sardonically. “Unfortunately, so will Deucalon. What else did Alazyn do? Not that avoiding orders wasn’t enough to enrage Kharllon … and Deucalon.”

“During the campaign, Alazyn pointed out some discrepancies in Kharllon’s views … or rather how he tended to position himself and his forces in ways most favorable to himself, and how his reports were not always in accord with how events had actually happened. Both Skarpa and Subcommander Paedn supported Alazyn. I also observed that Commander Kharllon’s view of matters accorded more with what he wished to believe than the situation that often faced Southern Army. Subcommander Alazyn made the mistake of observing that publicly once.” That was stretching matters slightly, but only a bit.

Bhayar smiled sardonically. “I thought as much. That was why I wished to see you without Deucalon present. He was most proper in hearing my decision to discuss matters with you alone.”

“He didn’t like it, but respects your decision.”

“I’m not sure he even respects it.” Bhayar paused. “I suppose I should promote Voltyr … to major, you think?”

Quaeryt thought for a moment. “For now, that would be good. Once the Collegium is established, I don’t think imagers should have military rank at all.”

“You’d give up being a commander?”

“For being the maître of the Collegium? Absolutely.”

“What if I made you a submarshal?”

Quaeryt shook his head. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I believe that would be unwise.”

Bhayar laughed, a short and harsh sound. “When a man refuses promotions and honors, and means it, I should heed his advice.”

“Can I instruct Voltyr to build and plan for a branch of the Collegium in Westisle?”

“You can. I will also send him a dispatch telling him that in all matters involving imaging and imagers, you remain his superior.” Bhayar fingered his chin, then looked back to the windows. “You are not to discuss the events in Liantiago with Deucalon. I have already told him he is not to question you about them. It would be better if you busied yourself with imager efforts for the next few days. I will confirm that, for the next few months, Subcommander Alazyn will govern the isle of Westisle, supported by the imagers. After that … we shall see.”

“You have not heard recently from Submarshal Myskyl, have you?”

“No.”

Bhayar’s tone told Quaeryt to drop that subject. So he said, “If the weather holds, we will finish the road from the avenue around the Chateau Regis to the south bridge in the next few days. We’ve replaced both the north and south bridges.”

“The imager roads are a great improvement. We will need more … in time. How are you coming in setting up your ministry?”

“Vaelora went looking for tables and furnishings for the studies … And ledgers and chests. I have had Zhelan and Khaern making discreet inquiries about clerks.”

For the next quint, the two discussed Bhayar’s requirements for the new Ministry of Administration and Supply for Bovaria.

After leaving Bhayar’s study, Quaeryt walked to the east side of the chateau, but Vaelora was not in the quarters. He found her on the main level, working with three troopers in arranging writing tables and chairs, and stacking chests.

“You’ve been busy,” he observed.

“We can’t do much until we have the furnishings and supplies.”

He glanced around. “Are you about finished for now?”

“Just about.” Vaelora looked at him. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”

“There’s nothing we can do at this moment. I’ll tell you when you’re finished.”

Less than a quint passed before Vaelora dismissed the rankers, and the two of them walked up the main staircase to the upper level of the chateau and to their quarters. Quaeryt had barely closed the door to the sitting room when Vaelora turned to him.

“Something from Antiago?”

Quaeryt nodded. “Skarpa was assassinated. Read these.” He handed her the two dispatches and let her read them before he went on to tell her what had happened at Chaelaet and then about his meeting with Bhayar. “I didn’t tell him about my not correcting the steward.”

“You were right not to. That would only make matters worse without benefiting anyone.”

“I should have corrected the steward. I should have.” Quaeryt shook his head.

“How were you to know?” asked Vaelora. “Besides, it might not have changed anything at all. Skarpa was the submarshal in charge of Southern Army, and all the dispatches you sent to the High Holders said that Skarpa and I would receive the allegiance of the High Holders.”

“But it might have,” said Quaeryt.

“You can torture yourself about that forever, dearest, and it won’t change anything.”

“I know that. You know that. Skarpa would probably even have said that. But it doesn’t make it right.”

“Will telling anyone but me make things better? Here? Or in Antiago?”

He shook his head. “It’s just that I owe so much to Skarpa.”

“He owed much to you.”

“I put him in danger.”

“He would have been in danger without you, and he might well have died in battle without everything you did. It’s not as though you gave an order that caused his death. And you weren’t the only one, dearest. Kharllon made it impossible for the imagers to protect Skarpa. Don’t forget that.”

Quaeryt just stood there for a moment. “That’s true … but he wouldn’t have needed protection-”

“Are you sure of that? He was still the submarshal. In the minds of all the southern High Holders, he was the one responsible. Also in the minds of all the surviving Shahibs of Antiago.”

Quaeryt said nothing.

Vaelora stepped forward and put her arms around Quaeryt. “You’re upset. You made a mistake. It was such a small mistake. How could you have known? But he was your friend, and you feel like all the blame is on you. I understand.”

For a time, neither spoke.

Finally, Quaeryt stepped back. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore right now.”

Vaelora nodded, then asked, “Do you think that it’s wise to set up two separate locations for your Collegium?”

“I thought I’d prefer one location, but what happened with Skarpa made me think differently. The imagers will always be vulnerable if they and those who lead them are in one place.”

“And Voltyr is the best one to lead the imagers in Antiago. That was what you had in mind, wasn’t it?”

“I did, but I was thinking of months, perhaps a year, when I did. Now…” Quaeryt shrugged, then shook his head. “Oh … with what happened to Skarpa, I forgot to tell you. Gauswn showed up this afternoon. Straesyr sent him and four student imagers.”

“That’s just the beginning,” said Vaelora.

Quaeryt hoped so, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Skarpa.