“Ser?” Erdyl appeared at the half-open library door. “You have another message, another invitation of some sort, I would judge.”
“Do you know who it’s from?”
“The messenger who rode up with it wore the black and crimson of Hamor,” Erdyl said, extending the envelope that was sealed with black-and-crimson wax.
Hamor? Kharl didn’t want to deal with the Hamorians, but he supposed that, so long as he met with their envoy in a relatively public place and kept his guard up, it was as safe as anything else he had been doing-not at all safe, but unavoidable. He broke the seal and extracted the short missive written on a heavy cream-colored paper, a paper more like parchment, but paper nonetheless.
He read the words slowly.
Most esteemed Lord Kharl,
On behalf of His Mightiness Sestar, Emperor of Hamor, and Regent of the South, I bid you welcome to Brysta and to the community of envoys gathered here to serve their rulers.
The heat and damp of summer are scarce the best time to arrive in Nordla, and for that reason, we would like to tender an invitation for refreshments on sixday afternoon, the fourth glass past noon, here at the residence. With so many of those of interest and power in Brysta gone until the weather returns to a more temperate state, the afternoon will offer time to become acquainted …
As the envoy of Lord Ghrant, you represent a young ruler who has proved that he has resources and wisdom beyond his years, and I look forward greatly to meeting with you.
The letter bore the signature of Whetorak, Lord Councilor. Kharl handed the invitation back to Erdyl. “What do you think?”
After reading it, the secretary looked up. “Ser?”
“He doesn′t expect me to say no,” Kharl said dryly.
“For a social occasion, ser, it might not be-”
“Oh, I know. Telling him I don′t want to see him isn’t wise. I learn nothing, and I just make him mad.”
“And curious,” suggested Erdyl.
There was another aspect to the letter. Whetorak had apologized for there being few others, if any, that he could invite. He was also suggesting that Kharl was unfortunate or unwise for arriving when he had, because so few remained in Brysta during the summer. That was something Kharl never thought about when he had been a cooper. Coopers didn’t retreat to the hills or to anywhere else during the heat of summer. They just kept working.
“I suppose you should write a response to Lord Whetorak,” Kharl said. “Something like the last one, not too flowery.”
“Right now, ser?”
“Please. Use the desk.”
While Erdyl began to write, Kharl made another attempt at perusing the books on the library shelves. The third book was entitled On Philosophy. He read the first page three times before setting the book back on the shelf. It made The Basis of Order seem simple and practical.
Kharl walked to the window and looked out for a time. The green-blue sky was cloudless, but already showing heat haze, and there was not even a hint of a breeze.
“Ser … if you would read this?”
Kharl walked to the desk and took the short reply from Erdyl. He read it carefully before speaking. “That’s fine. I’ll sign it, and you can seal it.”
“Yes, ser.”
After signing the reply and watching Erdyl apply the envoy’s seal, Kharl cleared his throat.
“Erdyl … if you would have Mantar ready the carriage.”
“Yes, ser. Where are we going?”
Kharl grinned. “The undercaptain and I are going to swing by the harbor to check the ships, then go to the Hall of Justice. You are going to come in the carriage so that Mantar can take you to deliver my reply. After that, you’ll locate the residences of the other envoys and make a short call on each, introducing yourself to their secretaries, or whoever acts as such, andfinding out what you can. Then you’ll come back here and make some notes on what you find out. After that, if you have time, go through the books in the library and make a short list of any worth my reading. You can also see if there is anything inside any of them that I should know about.”
“Yes, ser.” The young secretary looked glumly at the shelves.
“You have more learning than I do,” Kharl said. “You can do that far faster.”
Erdyl only looked slightly cheered by his envoy’s words.
“The carriage …” Kharl prompted.
“Oh … yes, ser.” The redhead turned and was gone.
Kharl went back to the window, taking in the formal gardens in the bright light outside. At times, where he was and what he was doing seemed almost unreal, as if he were in a dream. Coopers didn’t become mages and envoys, not in the world in which he had grown up. Except that he had, and the world in which he was living was even more dangerous than that of a cooper had been, perhaps because he’d been raised to be a cooper, not a mage or an envoy.
After a quarter glass or so, Kharl gathered the case he was using for notes, the one that held a portable inkpot, paper, and pens, then left the library.
“Lord Kharl?” Fundal stood in the corridor. “Will you be here for the midday meal?”
“A late midday meal, I’d judge.” Kharl had already decided not to spend the entire day at the Hall of Justice, not as hot as it was looking to be.
“Thank you, ser. I’ll tell Khelaya.”
“Thank you, Fundal.”
The carriage was waiting. So were Mantar, Erdyl, and Undercaptain Demyst. Cevor sat outside in the seat beside the driver.
“Mantar,” Kharl said with a smile, “we’ll start with the harbor, just for a quick look, then to the Hall of Justice. After that, you can take Erdyl to the Hamorian envoy’s residence.”
“The harbor, Lord Kharl, then the Hall of Justice, that it is.”
Kharl settled into the carriage, which, spotless as it seemed, bore a faint odor of mold and age. He rubbed his nose, which had begun to itch, then slid open the side window. Perhaps the movement of the carriage would provide some faint semblance of a breeze, despite the heavy still air.
“You think we’ll see more ships in the harbor?” asked Erdyl.
“This isn’t the time of year for heavy trading,” replied Kharl. “Still, I’d have expected a few more vessels.”
Kharl recalled what Erdyl had said about younger women, and he studied the streets and walks, but he saw none. Then, it was fairly early on oneday, and Kharl didn’t recall ever seeing that many young women out, particularly alone. Had they always had to fear Egen and others? Had Kharl just not noticed that? He didn’t have an answer for that question, and no real way to find out. Not now.
As Mantar turned the carriage onto Cargo Road, Kharl began to study the harbor as he could. By the time they were on the flat south of the lower market, Kharl could see a large merchanter easing into a berth on the other side of the same deepwater pier where Hagen’s ship had been tied up.
Kharl studied the ship, then nodded. “It’s another Hamorian.”
“They’ve got four in the harbor now,” observed Erdyl.
“No ships from any other lands here,” added Demyst.
Kharl had noted that the Suthyan vessel had not stayed long, either. He liked what he saw not at all.
Mantar slowed the carriage and turned in the small square short of the piers, to the south of the new patroller barracks, before heading back up Cargo Road. As Kharl looked back, the lower market seemed smaller, but that might have been because Kharl had changed, and not the marketplace itself.
Before long, the carriage slowed outside the Hall of Justice. Demyst opened the door and stepped out, glancing around, his hand on the hilt of his sabre. Kharl followed.
“When should I return, ser?” asked Mantar.
“A glass past noon.”
“A glass past noon,” repeated the driver. “Very good, ser.”
As the carriage pulled away with Erdyl looking glumly from the open window, Kharl turned toward the main doors of the hall. Undercaptain Demyst hurried forward and opened the left one. Inside was cooler than outside under the hot morning sun, but not all that much so, despite the dimness of the main foyer.