Having no idea who Ryessa might be, Kharl just nodded and took a sip of the white wine.
“Ryessa was the Tyrant of Sarronnyn and the older sister of Megaera. Megaera was a powerful white sorceress in the days of Westwind. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the founding of Reduce, but she …”
“That Megaera? You’re related to her?”
“More to her older sister, according to family stories, but that was hundreds and hundreds of years back.” Luryessa grinned. “Seven hundred and eight, actually.”
Kharl took another sip of the wine, then followed Luryessa’s example and lifted one of the white-glazed pastries onto his small plate.
“Sarronnyn went into a period of great decline after Megaera’s departure,” Luryessa went on. “It was gradual, so gradual that few noticed until just before the great cataclysm. Then the Iron Guard of Fairven and the white wizards began to build the last of their great highways. That was the one through the Westhorns so that they could bring Sarronnyn and all the west of Candar under their rule.”
“But that didn’t last long,” Kharl pointed out, recalling what Tarkyn had once told him. “Only for a few years.”
“Less than that, actually, but that was only because Fairven and most of the wizards were destroyed, not because of any strength of Sarronnyn.”
“No one knows who did that, do they?”
The faintest smile crossed Luryessa’s lips. “It is a fair guess that a renegade black wizard and engineer from Reduce did so. There were … artifacts … left, and they were of black iron. There were also bodies, but to this day, no one knows more than that.”
“I’m sorry. I was asking about your name.”
“The name of the Tyrant who let Sarron fall was expunged, never to be used again, according to her heir. So was the name Ryessa.″
“Why Ryessa? She didn’t have anything to do with the fall of Sarronnyn. She was long dead.”
“The thought was that her handling of Megaera created Recluce and made the rise of Fairven possible. My grandmother disagreed. I was named for Ryessa as a protest. Now … names that suggest that lineage are frowned upon.”
“Just frowned upon?”
“In Sarronnyn, that is as good as an outright prohibition.”
That said much to Kharl. “So you still have a Tyrant?”
“Absolutely. And we still follow the Legend.”
“How long have you been the envoy here?”
“Six years.”
“Isn’t that long for an envoy?”
“It is, but … everyone feels more comfortable with me being here. That includes me.”
“What can you tell me about Brysta that you think I should know?” Kharl took a bite from the pastry. The inside held a pearapple-almond filling. He managed not to lick his lips.
“It seems clear enough that the Hamorians are behind the road-building and the new patroller barracks. They seem to meet mostly with Captain Egen …″
That made great sense to Kharl, knowing what he did of Egen.
“They’ve also been overcharging for the goods they bring to Brysta, and refusing to buy Brystan wares unless they can get them at prices that beggar the sellers.”
“But … people won’t buy then, and they won’t sell.”
“Oh … where will the smiths and factors get iron stock? Or copper? Why do you think Egen has his men patrolling the roads to the south, and why there are some white wizards with his forces? Or why Vielam’s road patrols to the north and east are levying road tariffs on all merchant traffic?”
“It’s that bad?”
“No. It’s worse. More than a half score merchanters have vanished in the past two seasons, all of them nearing or bound for Brysta or Sagana. They were all from smaller lands, places like Suthya and Spidlar.”
“I’ve heard little of that, and neither has the lord-chancellor.”
“He and Lord Ghrant doubtless suspect something. Otherwise, why would you be here?” Luryessa smiled once more, knowingly.
Kharl could not argue with either the logic or the smile, and he had no doubts that everything she had told him was true. He could only worry about what she had not said-or did not know.
“While there are details I may have glossed over, Lord Kharl, that is what we face here in Brysta.”
There were more than a few details missing, but they wouldn’t change the overall view, Kharl suspected as he took another sip of wine. “Could you tell me about the other envoys?”
“I could, but I’d rather not share that information until after you havemet them. Then, you can invite me for refreshments, and we can compare what we have seen.”
Once more, Kharl could detect no evasions, and none of the chaos that generally signified lying or dishonesty. That was more disturbing than a lie would have been. “Then, if you will not share that information with me now, perhaps you could tell me about Sarronnyn, and about how people conduct their lives under the Legend … and how you came to be an envoy.″
“You do not ask for much. Histories have been written about Sarronnyn.”
“But I have not read them.” Kharl smiled. “I have not seen any in Austra, either.”
“That is less than surprising.” Luryessa took a sip of her Shyrlan before continuing. “Sarron is the capital of Sarronnyn, and it is both an old city and a new one. It was founded by the last of the original angels to leave Westwind. That was nearly thirteen hundred years ago. Once it was a craft and trade center, through which flowed all the trade north of the Stone Hills and west of the mountains. In time, the rulers of Lornth decided that Sarron was too powerful and independent. They attacked. They were right. The women warriors of Sarron destroyed the forces of Lornth. From those battles came Sarronnyn …”
Kharl listened intently.
LXV
Threeday night, after refreshments with Luryessa that had lasted until past sunset, Kharl had returned to his envoy’s residence-and to the library, where Erdyl was waiting.
“What did you find out from the weavers?” asked Kharl.
“The cloth didn’t come from Brysta. It was made on steam looms in Hamor. That was what Derdan told me. He said that none of the weavers here in Nordla can make cloth that cheaply. The Hamorian cloth isn’t as good-that′s what he says-and it’s all cotton that wears out sooner.”
“It’s probably more comfortable in summer,” mused Kharl, “but they’ll freeze in a hard winter. Egen wouldn’t care about that.”
“That’s what the factor said, not about Captain Egen, but about the cotton. He said that he’d tried to suggest summer and winter uniforms, but the patrollers said those would have to wait.”
“What about the other weavers?”
“That fellow Gharan-he’s got some quality cloth there. It’s a small place, just him and his consort and one other girl. She looks young, sort of sandy hair. First pretty young woman I’ve seen in Brysta. Good smile.”
Kharl stiffened inside, but managed to reply, keeping his tone wry, “I’m sure there are others.” Even as he spoke, he had to wonder at his reaction. Was it just that he didn’t want young Erdyl thinking of Jeka as just another pretty young thing? She’d saved his life, and she deserved more than being a fleeting pleasure to a young lordling.
“I haven′t seen any others, ser.”
“I’m sure you will,” Kharl replied. “What did Gharan say about the cloth?”
“He said it was decent cotton, but not much more, and that the patrollers would wish for warm wool come the turn of winter. He wanted to know if we were thinking of trying to ship cloth here. I told him that I didn’t know of anything like that. I also said that we didn’t grow cotton or much flax in Austra. Then he wanted to know if we’d like to buy anything. ″
“Did you see anything that caught your eye? Besides the girl?” Kharl wished he hadn’t said the last words, but they’d burst out by themselves.
“He has some wools, lambs′ wool, very soft, and some striking weaves, ser.”
“We should visit, then, if we have some time.” Kharl nodded. “What about Soret?”