Rex Regis

59

Slightly before seventh glass on Vendrei morning, Quaeryt approached the half-open door to Bhayar’s study, half wondering with what sort of mood the ruler of Telaryn, Bovaria, and Antiago might greet him.

When Quaeryt stepped into the study and shut the door behind himself, Bhayar stood from behind the table desk and smiled warmly. “Good morning, Quaeryt.”

“Good morning.”

Bhayar gestured to the conference table. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. It’s good to be back.”

“Vaelora worried about you.” Bhayar slipped into his chair.

Quaeryt took the chair on the other side of the circular table from Bhayar. He could see that Bhayar looked less worried, and that the circles under his eyes were much less pronounced. “I worried about me, too. I’m just glad matters worked out.”

Bhayar laughed softly. “You usually find a way to work them out … if not always in the fashion I might have originally preferred. I’ve gotten used to that … mostly. I already sent off a dispatch to Subcommander Ernyld announcing that with the success of the campaigns in Bovaria and Antiago, Marshal Deucalon has stepped down to a full stipend and will be shortly awarded a high holding for his long and devoted service, and that a new marshal of the armies will be determined within the next week. I also wrote that in order to assure a proper transition High Holder Deucalon will not be dealing with any issues of the armies, and that all inquiries will be handled by his chief of staff.”

“That leaves Ernyld in charge.”

“No. I also said that he was to refer any decisions to me until the new marshal is appointed. Now … yesterday, you recommended Commander Justanan as the successor to Deucalon as marshal. Why? I’d like to hear more about that.”

“There are several reasons. First, because he is the senior commander of Northern Army, and he’ll keep its commanders in line in a quiet way … and you need quiet. He also knows more about Bovaria than Pulaskyr, and you need Pulaskyr as the governor of Telaryn.” Quaeryt grinned. “You won’t be able to keep Aelina and Clayar and your other children in Solis all that much longer.”

“Did Vaelora tell you that?”

“No. I guessed that from what she’s said before.”

“I’ve gotten several letters along those lines. That’s another reason why I need to decide the marshal’s position.”

“You should talk to Commander Justanan by yourself … and then decide on whether he or Pulaskyr would make a better marshal … or if there is a better commander for the post.”

“You’d do a better job at it.” Before Quaeryt could say anything, Bhayar held up his hand to stop Quaeryt from replying. “I know. Appointing you would work for a while and then cause more and more problems.”

“Either of the two would do well.”

“Especially since they know you’d be looking over their shoulders.” Bhayar offered a smile. “But then, any marshal would know you’d be watching, and for now that’s probably just as well. What else?”

“Whoever you send back to Solis, though, should go with three regiments, perhaps four. That will reduce the strain on quarters and golds here and give the governor of Telaryn a little additional power.”

Bhayar nodded. “In time, we will need to reduce the size of the armies. But not yet. I know you want to devote more of your time to being maître or whatever you want to title yourself as head of your imagers’ Collegium, but until we hear from the Khellans, I need you as a commander.”

“I can do both. Vaelora’s obviously able to handle being Minister of Administration for Bovaria.”

“She’s managed to set up courier stations on the Aluse River road between Ferravyl and Variana, and along the Great Canal to Laaryn. She says that the stations between Eluthyn and Kephria will be operating by the end of Juyn.”

While Vaelora had not mentioned the courier stations, her progress didn’t surprise Quaeryt in the slightest. Nor did her decision to use the older but shorter route. We’ll need to use imaging to improve the road even more once things settle down, though. “In time, she ought to be Minister of Administration for all of Solidar.”

“It would be best not to use that name until all of Lydar is under one rule,” said Bhayar. “Do you think the Khellans will really accept terms?”

“They’ll try for the best they can get, but I think they will.”

“So long as you’re around.”

“No. There are five or six imagers now, who can wreak a fair amount of destruction.” Quaeryt paused. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“It would be better if it doesn’t, but I intend to keep the armies ready until it’s clear that they’ve accepted terms and are complying.”

Quaeryt nodded.

“When do you think Justanan and Northern Army will arrive?”

“Unless there’s a heavy rain, I’d judge it will be tomorrow afternoon.”

“Then I’ll have a courier waiting for him.” After the slightest pause, Bhayar added, “By the way, the three of us should have dinner this evening, and you can fill in all the other things you learned on your way to and from Rivages.”

“Sixth glass?”

“That will give you plenty of time,” replied Bhayar with a nod. “What do you plan for the rest of the day?”

“To ride to Imagisle and see how Baelthm, Horan, and Khaern have done in getting the place in shape. We also may have to plan for more imager students, Vaelora tells me.”

“She did say something about that.” Bhayar stood. “I won’t keep you. Until tonight.”

Quaeryt rose as well. “I look forward to dinner.”

“So do I.”

As he walked down toward Vaelora’s ministry study, Quaeryt couldn’t help but wonder what had changed Bhayar’s attitude so much. Just time and a good night’s sleep?

When he walked into the study, Vaelora looked up from her table desk. “How was brother dear this morning?”

“Very warm and cheerful. He asked us to dinner with him tonight. We talked about Justanan and Pulaskyr … and you. He said that you’d almost finished arranging for courier stations to Kephria and that we now have dispatch service to Laaryn, thanks to your efforts.”

“We do.” She paused. “Actually, we received a dispatch last night from Eluthyn. No one wanted to disturb us. So I didn’t see it until this morning. A squad from Calkoran’s second company have been escorting the Khellan envoy and his party to Variana from Kephria. The envoy will likely arrive next Mardi or Meredi.”

“Were there any details?”

“No. You can read it for yourself.” She reached down and handed the single sheet to Quaeryt. “I’ll have one of the clerks copy it and then take it up to Bhayar.”

Quaeryt scanned the sheet, but it said little more than what Vaelora had already told him. He handed it back to her. “I need to go and see what’s happened at Imagisle.”

“You’ll be surprised … and pleased, I think.”

“You won’t tell me?”

“No. You’ll picture what I tell you the way you want to-”

“Just as with a farsight,” he finished with a smile.

“Dearest … that is close to being disrespectful.” Her smile was wide and happy.

“I’ll be even more disrespectful, then.” He wrapped his arms around her, and their lips met.

For a time they remained locked together. Then Vaelora disengaged herself, gently but firmly. “You need to see Imagisle, and I need to get this copied.”

“Yes, dear.” Quaeryt grinned.

“You’re still impossible.”

“At times.”

She shook her head.

After another long look at his wife, Quaeryt turned and left the study, walking quickly to the rear courtyard door. As he stepped out into the already warm morning, with a clear but hazy sky promising a blistering summer day, Calkoran walked toward him.

“I didn’t expect to see you here this morning,” offered Quaeryt.

“I knew you would want to see all that has happened at the isle. So I brought a squad to escort you.”

“A full squad?”

“It seemed … prudent, once we heard that Marshal Deucalon had been relieved and stipended.”

“Does everyone know that?”

“Some things cannot be kept quiet for long, sir.” Calkoran smiled. “Especially when they show that Lord Bhayar did what was right.”

Quaeryt waited to see if the Khellan officer said more. Calkoran did not. So Quaeryt went on. “I hoped that he would, after I reported on what happened, but the decision was entirely his … as it should have been.”

“You will not be marshal, then?”

“No. That would be a mistake, both for me and for Lord Bhayar.”

Calkoran nodded. “For a son of Erion, it would doom you.”

“Even for an imager who might not be a son of Erion, it would doom me.”

“You will see others make mistakes you would not, and you will think that you could have done better,” said Calkoran.

“Any man who is good, intelligent, and hardworking will see that in others, but no man can do everything, and one who tries will do all of what he tries poorly. What I can do best is guide the imagers. So that is what I should do.” Before Calkoran could say more, he added, “Even if there is no glory and my name will be lost to those who follow.” He grinned. “Ride with me. We can trade platitudes on the way to Imagisle.”

Calkoran smiled.

One of the rankers led Quaeryt’s gelding, already saddled, toward him, and he realized, as he had not for a time, how that signified how much matters had changed over the past two years. From an impoverished scholar too poor to purchase a mount to a commander living in a palace married to a ruler’s sister with others grooming and saddling a fine mount for you. And yet, at that moment, all he could say was, “Thank you,” and mean it.

He took the reins and mounted, then rode to join Calkoran. “Was this your idea or Zhelan’s?” he asked with a smile.

“We both had the same idea. I told him that since I outranked him, I would take charge of the first duty. He insisted that we alternate until we are most certain that all is safe.” Calkoran paused, then added, “We know that you can protect yourself, sir, and even those close to you, but it would be best that no attacks even be attempted.”

Quaeryt couldn’t disagree with that. “What do you think of what the imagers have accomplished on the isle?”

“They have done much, but the question is what you think?”

“You’re not saying what they’ve done, then.”

“No, sir. As you have indicated by all your acts, the deeds should first speak for themselves.”

Quaeryt laughed softly. Trapped by your own words and acts. “Ready to head out?”

“Yes, sir.” Calkoran flicked the reins of his mount and ordered, “Column! Forward!”

Once the squad was on the road to the Nord Bridge, where they would turn south on the west river road, Quaeryt asked, “Did Subcommander Khaern say anything about the marshal’s being stipended off?”

“He said that it was too bad that Deucalon had changed from a good commander to one more concerned with preserving his own power.”

Quaeryt nodded. “And the submarshal?”

Calkoran snorted. “No officer with brains would mourn him.”

Unfortunately, there are some senior officers who would, and Justanan or Pulaskyr-or whoever else Bhayar chooses-will have to deal with them.

Once the squad was on the west river road, Quaeryt kept looking toward Imagisle, but not until they were almost abreast of the northern tip of the isle did he begin to distinguish additional changes, most notably that Horan had clearly finished the gray granite river walls that now appeared to completely protect the isle.

Then, when they approached the bridge, he saw that the shoulders of the causeway had been cleared and reshaped on both ends.

“This way, sir,” said Calkoran as they rode off the end of the bridge and turned to the north along a paved way that Quaeryt did not recall. To the east, if west of the rebuilt barracks and some other new structures he could not make out clearly, he could see the old anomen, totally restored, if not rebuilt and better than it ever could have been.

Then they rode east before turning south. Some hundred yards east of the river wall stood four barracks, two on the east side and two on the west side of an area that had been planted with grass and flowers-vegetation that was admittedly struggling-and bordered by solid paved roads. Not only that, but to the south of the green area was another smaller and single-story building. Even farther to the south of the complex were two other long buildings, apparently stables. All the buildings were of gray stone and roofed with slate tiles. To say that Quaeryt was astonished was an understatement. He looked to Calkoran. “It’s amazing…”

“Horan and Baelthm said that they had to earn their keep.”

Quaeryt also noted a long cottage-like building adjoining the anomen, and he suspected that it might well be for the students. He didn’t see buildings that looked like the cottages Lhandor had provided plans for, but that was more than understandable, given all the two had done.

They rode past the barracks toward the small building to the south of the barracks and facing north onto the area with the struggling vegetation that eventually would be a green.

“That’s the new administration building for the Collegium,” said Calkoran, pointing to where the other officers under Quaeryt’s command-five imager undercaptains, Khaern, Zhelan, Eslym, and Ghaelyn-stood in two ranks on the steps. To their right stood nine boys, dressed in gray trousers and shirts, with Gauswn, in his chorister’s garb, standing beside them.

Quaeryt reined up before them. For several moments, he struggled with what he felt and what he should say. After a time, he finally said, “I want to tell all of you that, without all that each one of you has done, and that includes those who are not here, we would not have this chance at a future for you, for those you love, and for those who will follow us. Without what Khalis, Lhandor, and Elsior did in Rivages, I would not be here. Without what Horan and Baelthm have accomplished while we were in the north we would have no place to which we could return … and I am truly astounded at what you two have done-”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” interjected Baelthm, with a slight smile, “we didn’t do it alone. All of the student imagers helped as they could. We just followed the example you set for teaching them … excepting that we tried to have them strengthen their imaging in building … hoping you don’t mind that.”

“Not at all! We’ll be needing to do more of that in the weeks and years ahead.” Quaeryt shook his head.

“Some of the buildings aren’t finished on the inside like they should be,” added Horan. “We really missed Lhandor in that.”

Quaeryt couldn’t help but shake his head in wonderment. “Truly amazing…” After several moments, he went on. “Lord Bhayar has agreed to the Collegium, and that means that before very long those of you who have wives or children can send for them … if they wish to come. There are some details we need to work out, and it may be a week or so before I know those…” He grinned. “We will need to build some cottages … but I doubt that will be much of a problem for you.”

That brought smiles to most faces.

“I’ll be meeting with each of you either today or over the next few days. Oh … I know some of you are interested, but Lord Bhayar has not yet informed me of his choice for marshal. That may be a few days because he will be meeting with various senior commanders once Northern Army returns to Variana.

“And now … I think we’ll ride to those new stables … they are stables, aren’t they?”

“Yes, sir!” Horan called out.

As Quaeryt urged the gelding toward the stables, Calkoran cleared his throat.

“Yes?”

“I wondered, sir … will you and Lady Vaelora be living in the Chateau Regis … for long, that is?”

“For now. Once I’m no longer needed as a commander and am just the maître of the Collegium, then we’ll worry about quarters here. Right now, it’s more important to make sure the quarters for the imagers and men are finished.”

Calkoran merely nodded.

Once Quaeryt had stabled the gelding, he had Baelthm and Horan give him a tour of all that the two-and the student imagers-had accomplished. That took more than two glasses, and Quaeryt was impressed with the quality of the work-despite the concerns that Baelthm had expressed.

When the tour was over, and the three stood on the steps of the small building, which they had informed Quaeryt was the headquarters of the Collegium, complete with a room for a modest library and several private studies as well as a spacious conference room, Quaeryt looked to Horan and Baelthm. “Did you two ever sleep?”

“We slept well, sir, and we didn’t have to worry about anything except building the Collegium. Subcommander Khaern and the chorister took care of everything else.”

“Some of the students must have talent with imaging.”

“They all do,” replied Baelthm. “Some are better at small detailed imaging, and some look to be strong like Horan.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done.”

Horan looked at Quaeryt. “Sir … you let me do what I could. You didn’t press me to do what would have hurt me more than you know. How could we not?”

“That is the idea of the Collegium,” Quaeryt admitted, “but you’ve put it into practice.”

The two smiled.

After that, Quaeryt met with all the officers. The meeting was short, and he simply told them what he knew, including the fact that there was an envoy from Khel and that no one knew exactly what that meant. When he finished informing the officers, he walked to the anomen to find Gauswn.

The young chorister was giving lessons to the student imagers, but excused himself, and the two walked to the small study that held a table desk and two chairs. All three were plain, but appeared sturdy.

“Chartyn and Doalak imaged those for me,” said Gauswn. “They’ve also managed bed frames and tables for the other students.”

“I can’t believe all that everyone has managed.”

“All of them would likely die for you, sir.”

Quaeryt wasn’t so sure that Threkhyl would, but he was likely to be Voltyr’s problem for some time to come. If not for as long as the Westisle part of the Collegium exists. “That may be an exaggeration.”

Gauswn shook his head. “You’ve risked your life time after time for them.”

“I risked it so that Lord Bhayar would succeed, because that is the only way imagers can have a chance at a better life. And I’ve asked them to risk their lives time after time, and some of them died following me.”

“You’ve given them pride and hope … and a sense of being able to control their own future. No one has ever done that for imagers.”

Except perhaps the Naedarans … and that might be doubtful. “What else could I have done?”

“What Myskyl and Deucalon tried … to seek power and fill your wallet. You didn’t.” Gauswn smiled, almost ironically, yet gently. “In turning from that kind of power, you may have become the most powerful man in Lydar, simply by refraining from excesses … from Naming.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” said Quaeryt quietly.

“How many men would recognize that?”

“There must be some.”

Gauswn shook his head again. “Calkoran talked to me last night. The Khellans believe that you’re the son of Erion. So do some of the imager undercaptains. I hope you won’t disappoint them.”

Someone else had said similar words. After a moment Quaeryt realized who it had been … and that recalled what Skarpa had said about Gauswn. In turn, that reminded Quaeryt all too clearly of how a single failure to correct a misconception had led to Skarpa’s assassination … all because Quaeryt had failed to do the littlest thing. With that jumbled recollection, Quaeryt found his eyes burning,

“What is it?” asked Gauswn gently.

For a moment Quaeryt could say nothing. Then he shook his head. “You never escape the past … and within us, it’s never really totally past.” And Erion told you that would be so.

Gauswn smiled, sadly. “No … it is only never past for those who understand.”

“You may be right about that.” Quaeryt forced a smile. “I did say you’d be a good chorister, and I think you’re also going to be a good head of studies for the young imagers…” Even as he forced himself to concentrate on what he needed to tell Gauswn, Quaeryt still found himself thinking of Skarpa … and wondering why Gauswn’s words, echoing those of Phargos, another chorister, had brought on such strong and bittersweet memories.