Not to mention that most of the chaos-mages were under tight Hamorian control.
Kharl just hoped that he could keep smiling-and not reveal too much to the Hamorian-until he could leave gracefully.
LXX
The first light of sevenday had barely touched the tallest oak on the hill above the Austran envoy’s residence when Kharl swung up into the saddle of the chestnut gelding, awkwardly because he bore the long truncheon in its slightly oversized scabbard. He wasn’t used to riding that much, especially not wearing a weapon. He wore his black jacket and a gray cotton shirt, good garments, but not necessarily lordly ones. Demyst, Erdyl, and the two guards were already mounted, and all bore sabres, but a sabre would have been worse than useless for Kharl.
“Are you sure you would not rather take the carriage, Lord Kharl?” asked Fundal, standing on the end of the brick walkway from the portico.He looked across the five mounted riders, and the sixth saddled but riderless horse.
“The carriage wouldn’t work. Not all the roads outside of Brysta are that good. We may have to ride where the carriage would not go.”
“Yes, ser.” Fundal looked at the envoy glumly. “You don’t know when you’ll be back, I suppose?”
“Sometime before twoday, when I present my credentials to Lord West. It could be late today, or tomorrow, or oneday.″
“Yes, ser.”
Kharl turned his mount and headed down the brick-paved drive toward the open iron-grilled gate. Demyst pulled his mount alongside Kharl’s. Alynar and Erdyl were directly behind Kharl and the undercaptain, while Cevor brought up the rear, guiding the riderless mount, which also held provisions. The loudest sound as the party rode eastward and down the hill toward South Road was that of hoofs on brick pavement.
There were few souls out and about, although Kharl could see the haze from chimneys and smell cooking oil and smoke.
“How far are we going, ser?” asked Erdyl, from where he rose behind Kharl.
“As far as we need to. No one wants to talk about roads or about what’s happening in the south.”
Erdyl was silent, as were the others. Kharl concentrated on riding and not bouncing in the saddle, although his riding was far better than it had been when he had first been required to ride at Dykaru two seasons earlier. He also kept checking the streets, and roads, and the area through which they rode for signs of chaos. He found none; but he was well aware that, even so early in the day, several uniformed patrollers had been watching them.
As they passed the last dwellings of Brysta on the southeast side of the city and began to ride through the small plots that were neither true holdings nor just gardens, the ground grew somewhat more hilly to the east of the road, low hills that were more like rocky meadows, dotted with woodlots and irregular fields. Then the road swung due south-or mostly so in its winding path-to avoid a long ridge that rose a good fifty cubits above the road and angled to the southeast.
A half kay farther south, the packed-clay track turned back southeast, following the curve of a hill below the rocky ridge. At the end of the lowhill the ground to the east of the hill flattened, and Kharl saw more clearly the barracks he had seen from the carriage earlier and heard about-four new plank-sided buildings-and two long stables. On the flat between the base of the ridge and the stables, Kharl could see at least two companies of mounted patrollers drilling.
“Those are lancer drills,” said Demyst quietly.
“I thought they might be. I saw some mounted patrollers the other day-first time I’ve seen them in Brysta.” Kharl had half expected it, but it was still a surprise.
Just past the barracks, the south road was joined by another, narrower road from the east that cut through a low spot in the ridge farther east of the barracks and stables and ran due west on the south side of the patroller buildings, ending where it met the south road.
As they continued south on the main road that would eventually lead to Surien-if hundreds of kays farther to the southeast-the holdings and cots became far less frequent, and the road itself was often bordered by hedgerows and holder fields. Yet they encountered almost no one, except an occasional cart.
Then, less than two kays south of the barracks, the road abruptly changed from packed clay into a gray stone highway. The paving stones were large, two cubits by one, and the road was a good rod wide, with gravel and pebble shoulders.
“This looks new,” Kharl said. It was new, at least since the time a year before when he had walked southward to Peachill to see Warrl.
“It’s cut off sharp as with a knife. Right here. Doesn’t run all the way into Brysta. That doesn’t make sense,” replied Erdyl.
“They’re probably still building it,” Kharl offered.
“There’s no sign of’em doing any more, but maybe they don’t want folks to know about it yet,” suggested Demyst.
Kharl stood in the stirrups of the chestnut gelding, looking ahead, but the pavement stretched out at least three kays ahead before disappearing over a low rise, cutting through the wide curves of the old road like a crossbow quarrel, in places running through meadows and fields. “We’ll see how far it goes.” He eased his mount forward.
On the west side of the road was a stone wall that ended abruptly near the shoulder of the new road, which cut through an irregular corner of what had been a pasture. The stone wall had not been rebuilt along theshoulder, something Kharl certainly would have done to keep in grazing livestock.
He glanced at the cot immediately ahead and to his right. Despite the cool of the early morning, the shutters were closed when they should have been open. So was the door to the small barn to the south of the cot. He could sense no one in the buildings or nearby. Had they protested the loss of their land to the road?
Kharl shook his head, imagining what Egen would have done to anyone who protested. He was just glad that Dowsyl’s orchards were well back from the old main road, and he hoped that they were also well back from the new road.
For the next two kays, they were the sole travelers on the gray stone high road. Perhaps half a glass passed before Kharl saw riders coming from the south, wearing the traditional blue-and-burgundy uniforms and moving in formation.
“Looks like lancers, ser,” said Demyst. “What do you want us to do?”
“Let’s stop here and wait for them. I’d like to see what they have in mind.” Kharl didn′t have any illusions. The only question in his mind was exactly what sort of trouble the lancers posed. He reined up, then turned in the saddle. “Close up. As close as you can get.”
“Ser?” asked Erdyl.
“You heard him,” hissed Demyst.
The others moved in.
Kharl watched carefully as the lancers rode toward them, double file, in good order. The half squad of lancers reined up less than two rods away. All the riders carried not only sabres, but rifles in saddle cases-Hamorian rifles from their order-feel, Kharl sensed. Their undercaptain reined up to one side.
Kharl eased the chestnut forward.
“Hold it right there, fellow!” snapped the undercaptain.
“I didn’t want you to have to yell.” Kharl reined up slowly, so that he was almost a rod closer to the officer.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” announced the undercaptain. “The south road is closed.”
“There were no signs or barriers,” Kharl replied politely. “Might I ask why?″
“That’s ser, to you, fellow, and no, you can’t ask why.″
“No one in Brysta said that the road south was closed,” Kharl said, his eyes and senses on the ten lancers, all of whom had their hands on their rifles, clearly waiting for a command. He’d wondered about riding south, but, since no one had been able to tell him anything, he’d felt that waiting would not be wise. Now he was seeing why. He almost smiled at the thought. He’d never liked waiting.