“Yes, ser.”
Kharl turned to Demyst. “You will remind Cevor and Alynar, as well.”
“I have told them both that they will answer to me, to you, and to Lord Hagen if they so much as hint.”
“Good. Thank you.” It might not help, but Hagen had made the suggestion, and usually what the lord-chancellor suggested was wise.
The carriage rumbled up Cargo Lane until it reached Eighth Cross. There the driver turned westward. Eighth Cross sloped upward for another half kay before descending. After the crest, they traveled two long blocks before the carriage slowed, then turned in through a wide brick gate, before coming to a halt in a brick-paved courtyard on the left side of the dwelling.
From the carriage, Kharl took in the residence, a structure a good three times the size of the main house at Cantyl. The walls were of a rough brownstone, with wide mullioned windows, trimmed in dark green. The pitched roofs were of dark slate, and the front wall was of dark red brick, with two gates, the carriage gate, and a smaller gate with a brick archway above it.
A gray-haired man, wearing a black-trimmed green tunic, hurried down the brick walk. He stumbled on a protruding brick, but caught himself.
Erdyl opened the carriage door and stepped out, holding the door for Kharl. The mage and envoy eased through the narrow door and stepped onto the ancient brick pavement.
“Lord Kharl?” The man took in Kharl slowly.
“I am Lord Kharl.” Kharl hated to announce himself as a lord.
“Yes, Lord Kharl. I’m sorry I did not recognize you, but no likeness was sent. I am Fundal, the residence steward.”
“I understand. This is Erdyl, my secretary, and this is Undercaptain Demyst. The two guards I brought are with the baggage wagon. It was following us.”
“Ah … two guards?”
“I thought guards were customary.”
“Yes, ser. Lord Hensolas brought half a squad, added more later, and two secretaries, and his … cousin … Genya, of course.”
Kharl smiled. “Then we should have plenty of room.”
“More than enough, ser. More than enough.” Fundal bowed. “Let me show you the residence.”
Undercaptain Demyst smiled politely. “I’ll be going first, if you will, steward.” He stepped toward the side steps leading up to the covered porch that wrapped around the front of the dwelling.
“Of course, undercaptain, of course.”
His case under his arm, Kharl followed the steward.
“This is the front porch. Lovely in the morning. Lord Isel always took breakfast here. The rear porch, of course, is more private. It has seen many summer functions …”
Kharl said little as Fundal took Kharl through the main sitting room, the front salon, the library, which also served as the envoy’s study, the long dining room, the adjoining breakfast room, the rear salon, which opened onto the covered rear porch, which, in turn, overlooked the small formal garden, the kitchen, and the various pantries. Then Fundal led them to the basement, which held various cellars, as well as a strong room. They returned to the main foyer and climbed the wide grand staircase to the second level, which held five large bedchambers, and two bath chambers, one of which was attached to the envoy’s bedchamber and sitting room. The third level held six smaller chambers, including those for Erdyl and the undercaptain.
“Your guards … now there’s a barracks quarters over the stable … and that adjoins the other staff quarters,” ventured Fundal.
“With only two, it would be better to have them on the third level,” Kharl suggested. “They’d be closer.”
“Yes, ser,” interjected Demyst.
“Third level, it is,” affirmed the steward.
“Do we have mounts for riding?” asked Kharl.
“Why, yes, ser … but for your guards and your secretary. That is, when you need the carriage. The past envoys … they have not ridden in Brysta.”
“I imagine not.” Kharl nodded, but was glad to know that the mounts were available.
While the bags were being carried to the various quarters, and before he did more, Kharl drew Fundal aside into the library.
“Yes, ser?”
“I was led to believe, Fundal, that you were concerned that the residence accounts were short of coins?”
“Yes, ser. I can show you the ledgers. We have less than twenty golds on account at the Factors’ Exchange. Prices … well, for everything … they’ve been higher this year. Almost no produce coming from the south, they say. The brigands … or something. You hadn’t come in the next few eightdays … I can’t say that I could see how we’d have lasted.”
“Leave the ledgers out on the desk here. I’ll look them over after we get settled, and we’ll take care of the accounts first thing in the morning.”
“Yes, ser.” The steward smiled tentatively.
Kharl was glad that he could solve one problem. He had the feeling that, while he didn′t know what others he faced, not in detail, setting Fundal’s mind at ease would be one of the easier tasks before him.
LVII
Kharl should have been tired, he supposed, after the long trip to Brysta, but he hadn’t been. So after unpacking and hanging out his clothes in the capacious wardrobe in his chambers, he had made his way down to the study and gone through the ledgers, line by line. From what he could tell,Fundal was honest, relatively frugal, and probably without imagination or more than modest initiative. Several of the suppliers of provender and other goods for the residence were not sellers Kharl would have chosen, even with unlimited golds, and over time those would need to be changed.
Nowhere in the residence library were there any records of what previous envoys might have done as envoys, nor was there a history of recent events in Brysta. Even the leather-bound volumes on the dark oak shelves were old and stiff enough that Kharl doubted most had ever been read, even when new.
He, Erdyl, and Demyst had taken an early supper, and Kharl had gone back to the library afterward. There, he had drawn up a listing of what he thought needed to be done, based on what he recalled of the verbal instructions Hagen had given him. Doubtless he would miss things. He’d not been raised as a lord.
Then, for a time, he had just sat in the darkness and thought, wondering about Warrl, Jeka, and Sanyle … and, always, there was the sadness about Arthal.
His first inclination was to deal with Warrl and the young women as soon as possible, preferably on the morrow, but, as Taleas the scrivener had pointed out, acting before thinking had been his undoing more than once. Painful as it was, he would do better to proceed carefully. If Warrl remained safe with Merayni and Dowsyl, then rushing in would do no good. If something had happened because of the so-called brigands, whatever Kharl might do was already too late. That thought nagged at him, and he had to force it away.
The same held for Jeka. If she was still working for Gharan as a weaver, then she was safe. If not, he could scour the city for her-or even all of the West Quadrant-and never find her. As for Sanyle, he hadn’t even known where she had gone before he’d left Brysta.
Could he employ Erdyl to look around?
Kharl shook his head. The secretary was likely to be watched in some ways even more closely than Kharl himself, and if Kharl gave any premature indication of interest in his son or the young women, Egen or Lord West would not be above using them against Kharl and Austra, even if they had no idea what the linkage was. Nor would the Hamorians. After Kharl had sent Erdyl on various errands, he might be able to work things in, but not first off. That also meant that, when Kharl acted, he would have to act decisively and quickly.
He did not sleep well. He woke early, washed, dressed, and ate, then went to his study-library.
Erdyl was still yawning when Kharl summoned him into the library.
“Have you eaten yet this morning?”
“Yes, ser. I just finished. What would you like of me?”