“You want me to do that now?”
“The sooner the better. I’m going over to the Hall of Justice for a while. I’d have you come with me, but it would be better if you and Alynar or Cevor rode.”
“Yes, ser.”
Kharl could sense that Erdyl was puzzled, but Kharl didn’t want totell him much, not until he’d talked to Drenzel and reported back to Kharl.
Kharl had to wait half a glass before Mantar had the carriage ready, because he’d forgotten to tell anyone.
After a glass or so that morning in the Hall of Justice library, Kharl slipped back downstairs into the Hall, to hear several trials held by Lurtedd, the other lord justicer, who, as he recalled, was supposed to be more closely tied to Overcaptain Osten. After two very long glasses in the hot Hall, when the second trial was completed, and one Astolan had been convicted of disturbing the peace-and sentenced to a season in the quarries-Kharl had come to two conclusions.
There was little difference between the two lord justicers, and he was not about to find out any more than he already knew from studying what went on in the Hall of Justice.
He left the Hall, and he and Demyst made their way outside, finding a shady spot to wait for Mantar.
“They do it much different here, ser?” asked the undercaptain.
“The procedures are almost the same. I think the sentences are harder.” Kharl really didn’t wish to say more, not where anyone could hear.
Despite the shade, the day was hot, and Kharl was perspiring profusely by the time Mantar returned with the carriage less than a half glass later.
“We’ll take another ride through Brysta, starting at the harbor and working up through all the cross streets,” Kharl told the driver.
“Be a long trip to go a short ways, ser.”
“That it will be, but we need to see some things.” Kharl opened the door and stepped into the carriage, making sure the windows were open.
As they rode, Kharl counted Watch patrollers. In addition to the harbor inspectors, there were four patrollers at the foot of the piers, although there was only one non-Hamorian ship, and that had to be from Recluce, flying as it was an ensign of the black ryall on a white background. There were four patrollers at the lower market square, and two were mounted, the first time Kharl had seen that-ever. The two around the upper square were also mounted, and there seemed to be a pair on foot at practically every other corner of a cross street and road. By the time they returned to the residence, Kharl had counted over a hundred patrollers in an area that amounted to less than a quarter of Brysta proper.
Erdyl was waiting when Kharl returned and entered the library, followed by Demyst. The young secretary stood immediately. “Ser.”
“What did you find out?” Kharl blotted his forehead once more.
“The tanner wouldn’t say much, except that it all depends. Good bull leather, that will take splits, a good hide might fetch almost a gold. Sheep fleeces are cheap, three coppers, maybe a silver.”
“Did he say anything about the Hamorians or Lord South?”
“Said that with the trouble in the south, lots of herders were selling off part of their flocks, those they couldn’t keep under roof at night, and that was driving down prices. Might be why wool prices were going up, too. He claimed he didn’t know anything about the Hamorians, and Lord South, except that Lord South was a doddering old fool.”
“What about the renderer?”
“His place has been closed for an eightday, or thereabouts. The tanner said he was in gaol. Something about tariff farmers. He didn’t let one in, and in the night the patrollers came and smashed up things.” Erdyl shrugged. “That’s what he said. I couldn’t believe that he said the patrollers did that.”
“The tanners and the renderers usually will say more than other crafters,” Kharl said.
“No one else wants to do what they do,” suggested Demyst.
Kharl turned and walked to the desk. Should he? If he didn’t … He looked at Erdyl. “I’m sorry to have you riding all over Brysta, but I have another errand for you, after we eat. You’ll need to go to the Hall of Justice, and see if you can find out what will come before each justicer in the next eightday, or the next two. If Fasyn or the clerks ask, tell them that I’m interested in listening to certain cases, but that, as an envoy, my time is limited. So I wanted to pick those of most interest to me.”
“Ser … will they tell me?”
“They might.” Kharl forced a grin. “They’re supposed to post the dockets, but I’ve never found out where. You could say that, if you need to. Take some paper and a markstick. You’ll probably have to copy them, or take them down.”
“Ser …?”
“A listing of those cases could prove very useful.” One way or another, Kharl thought. “It’s too bad they haven′t kept the case files up to date. It doesn’t help that the newest records are more than four years old.”
“Do you think that’s because the lord justicers don’t want anyone seeing the records of the way they decided things?” asked Erdyl.
“The records only matter if the law means something,” Kharl replied, “and if there’s a way to make sure that the justicers follow the law. If the justicers are twisting the law to do what Lord West wants, they won’t want recent records. Not accurate ones, anyway.”
“You think they’re doing that?”
Kharl nodded, a wry smile on his lips. “We can’t do much about that. Now … let’s get something to eat.”
LXIX
After the midday meal on a hazy sixday, Kharl retreated to the library, waiting for Enelya. He would have liked to have waited longer to talk to her, but he needed to know more about what was happening in Brysta, and he would have felt odd trying to contact other envoys and immediately questioning them. He’d taken off his jacket and was debating whether to shed the waistcoat when there was a timid rap on the doorframe. The door was open.
“Come in, Enelya.” Kharl gestured to the chair across from the desk, then settled into his own chair.
The serving girl sat down on the edge of the straight-backed chair. Her hair was drawn back from her face. She did not look at Kharl, and for the moment, that was fine with the mage. He waited to see what she might say.
″Ser … I’d been meaning to thank you …″
“I’m just returning a favor you did for someone else,” Kharl replied, “and I’m glad that I could. Is your room all right?”
“Oh, yes, ser. Khelaya’s been teaching me cooking, too.” She still did not look at the envoy.
“Enelya … I’d like you to tell me what’s been happening in Brysta.”
“Ser?”
“The last time I was here, I saw girls and women on the streets. There were a few armsmen here and there, and a handful of Watch. Now, thereare no girls on the streets. There are no armsmen, and there are scores of patrollers.” Kharl waited.
“I … never thought’bout such, ser.”
“You were a server at the White Pony. You must have heard something. Something happened to your sister. Was that part of the reason why few women walk alone?”
“How’d you know that?”
“I heard it from a friend of mine.” That was absolutely true, if not in the way Kharl intended the woman to take it.
“Not many folk knew about Josarye.″
Kharl waited again.
″Ser … I served ′em. Sometimes, I listened. Most times I didn’t want to stay close …″
“Especially to Captain Egen?”
Enelya shuddered. “Girls at the Bardo’d hide if they heard his voice. Liked the little ones, and the young ones. Always was hurtin′ ′em. Got him excited.”