Rex Regis

10

Much as he wanted to stay in bed on Meredi morning, Quaeryt was up early, worrying about everything from provisions to getting to the factors’ council. While he still had over three hundred golds from what Skarpa had sent, that was not much, even if he spent it only on supplies, not for fifteen hundred troopers. And he was only paying half the going rate. He didn’t want to commandeer the provisions, but he also wanted to get the point across that the merchants and factors would have to shoulder some costs beyond token tariffs.

Accompanied by a half squad from first company, he did manage to rein up in front of the small, two-story brick building off the lower main square in Daaren just before eighth glass. There was no sign or inscription on the structure, but Quaeryt recalled it from the last visit, if only because it was the sole unidentified building around the square. That, in itself, suggested the power of the factors.

Before he dismounted Quaeryt surveyed the square, an area paved with rough cobblestones, unlike the smoother paving blocks used in Telaryn or in the ancient Naedaran roads. In the center was a square pedestal, and on the pedestal was a statue of a man, cast in bronze old enough that it held a patina of brown and green. Presumably, the man depicted was a former rex, since Kharst had not ruled long enough for a statue that old, and Quaeryt doubted that any local personage would have spent the golds for what would have been regarded as Naming. Apparently, in Bovaria, the rex was above that particular sin.

All that reminded Quaeryt that it had been almost a month since he’d had to conduct a service or deliver a homily. So far … so far, he had to say he didn’t miss it.

He eased off his mount and turned to the squad leader. “Just wait. This shouldn’t take more than a quint or so.”

“Yes, sir.”

Holding full shields, he walked up to the door and opened it, stepping inside. Once in the entry hall, he tucked his uniform visor cap into the crook in his left arm and crossed the open space to the front table.

The clerk behind the table looked up … and seeing the uniform, and most likely Quaeryt’s unnaturally white hair, nails, and dark eyes … froze.

“I’m here to see Factor Palumyn. I assume he’s here.”

The clerk swallowed, seemingly unable to respond.

“Where is he?” Quaeryt asked politely.

The clerk grasped a small bell and rang it.

After a moment the leftmost of the two doors in the wall behind the clerk opened, and Factor Jarell stepped out.

Quaeryt wasn’t surprised.

Neither, apparently, was Jarell, who smiled and asked, “What brings you here, Commander?”

“I need to go over a few matters with Factor Palumyn. I assume he’s there.” Quaeryt pointed to the closed door.

“He should be,” replied Jarell amiably, walking to the door and opening it. “Commander Quaeryt is here to see you.” He gestured.

Quaeryt smiled. “After you.”

Jarell stepped into the study, and Quaeryt followed, closing the door behind him.

The study was small, some three yards by four, and held only a writing table and the chair behind it, in which Palumyn sat, almost as if sculpted of marble, and two other armless wooden chairs. Quaeryt did not bother to seat himself.

Palumyn’s eyes fixed on Quaeryt’s midsection, or rather on Quaeryt’s visor cap and the hand and fingers that held it. After a moment he shook his head, then looked up at Quaeryt. “That explains much.”

For the first time, a puzzled expression flitted across Jarell’s face.

“I’ll explain later, Jarell. The commander understands.” Palumyn’s voice took on a resigned tone as he asked, “What brings you here?”

“Lord Bhayar and I require a listing of all the factors and large merchants in Daaren. I’m certain you have such a listing.”

“We have a listing of all those factors who belong to the council. Some merchants do, but not all do.”

“I’d appreciate a copy by the end of the day,” Quaeryt said politely. “Oh … and I’ve had my officers taking a count and notes on every large merchant and factorage in Daaren. Lord Bhayar’s clerks, I’m sure, will be comparing your listing against the tariff rolls you submit and against our census.”

Palumyn stiffened, if but for an instant. “We would expect thoroughness from a ruler as effective as Lord Bhayar.”

“And I expect the same from the noted factors of Daaren. I assume you will have no difficulty in delivering the list by fourth glass this afternoon.”

“I believe we can manage that, Commander.”

“Excellent,” replied Quaeryt.

“Is there anything else you need from us?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then Jarell will deliver the listing before fourth glass.”

“Thank you.” Quaeryt inclined his head politely, then stepped back to allow Jarell to leave the study first.

After Quaeryt had closed the door behind himself, he and Jarell walked several steps farther before Quaeryt stopped.

Jarell said, “Most senior officers wouldn’t worry quite so much about matters such as tariffs.”

“They would if they were married to Lord Bhayar’s sister,” replied Quaeryt. “If they had any sense, anyway. Lord Bhayar expects much from those who serve him, and more than that from those who are close.”

The brown-haired factor smiled ruefully. “I’ve had a few inquiries made. It’s said that you are a fighting commander, and that you are effective. Most effective. From those inquiries and from what you have said, it would appear that Lord Bhayar can be a hard man.”

Quaeryt shook his head. “He makes a great effort to be effective and fair. He has been known to accept honest mistakes. Those who made them often have not remained in his service, or they have had to undertake duties that were demanding and onerous. He does not accept treachery, dishonesty, or duplicity.”

“And you?”

“I’ve been one of those who has made mistakes. I’d prefer not to make others.”

“I see.”

“Perhaps you do, Factor Jarell. It might be wise if you conveyed that understanding to other factors. It might prevent any misunderstandings. Lord Bhayar will not be as tolerant of factor excesses as Rex Kharst was. He has already shown that he will not tolerate excesses by High Holders.”

“Oh?”

“All five of the high holdings just north and east of Kephria have been leveled. Four of the High Holders have lost their lands. Three are dead. The fifth High Holder was removed and his heir installed as his successor. All the High Holders who were closest to Rex Kharst are dead. The factors of Laaryn attempted to deceive Submarshal Skarpa. Their reward was to supply the Southern Army and to support a full regiment quartered there until Lord Bhayar is convinced of their resolve not to attempt any further questionable actions. The leader of the deception fled and faces execution if he returns. His factorage and considerable wealth were seized.”

Jarell tried not to swallow. He did not succeed.

“If you wish to send someone to Laaryn to inquire, by all means do so,” Quaeryt added pleasantly. “As I’ve said, Lord Bhayar has no interest in arbitrarily punishing factors. He just doesn’t like deception … or other actions that suggest a lack of loyalty.” Quaeryt couldn’t say anything about obeying the laws of the land, because Bhayar had essentially repudiated the old privileges of the factors, and Quaeryt wasn’t aware that any new rules or laws had been issued. In fact, in his absence, he doubted that anyone had even considered the matter. Another problem for you to resolve … if he’ll listen and let you.

“Loyalty … that can be an ambiguous term, Commander,” offered Jarell.

Quaeryt faced the factor and projected a combination of power and withering scorn, so much so that Jarell stepped back several steps and paled. “Neither I nor Lord Bhayar care much for weasel-wording factors who seek to hide behind the meaning of words or who use them to shield themselves from punishment for doing what they know is wrong. You know what is right, and it is not always the same as what brings in the most golds.” Quaeryt dropped the projection and said quietly, “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Jarell inclined his head.

Just before Quaeryt turned to leave, he noticed that the clerk who had been at the front desk had fainted. You weren’t that violent.

He didn’t shake his head as he walked out of the building. Why are so many of them always trying to avoid and evade? Is that truly what makes a successful factor? Then he paused, considering. Palumyn hadn’t tried to avoid. He’d been unhappy, and resigned, but he’d given every indication that he would do his best.

Quaeryt smiled ruefully. That suggested Jarell was another Myskyl, a lower-level schemer trying to get to the top by twisting everything to his advantage. And Myskyl is another problem you’ll have to face when you return to Variana.

When he rode into the side courtyard at the Grande Laar Inn, Quaeryt reined up and saw Undercaptain Ghaelyn. “Undercaptain! Do you know if the imager undercaptains have returned?”

“No, sir. They haven’t.”

“Thank you.” Quaeryt dismounted and led his mount to the waiting stable boy.

He needed to write out all the problems he faced-especially a set of rules to make things clear for the Bovarian factors and merchants, because it was all too obvious that the way they conducted business was not what was necessary for better trade between the different lands Bhayar now ruled.

Quaeryt took a deep breath as he walked toward the inn door.