“She never said that … oh, I see … companies … billeted … rankers … armory …″ Erdyl nodded.
“What about the other barracks in the south?”
“She said that held five mounted companies and another four arms companies. She also said that there was another new barracks to the east, just off Angle Road. I’m sure she said Angle Road. That only holds six foot companies, but there’s an armory there that also has cannon.”
“Loaded with grapeshot,” Kharl suggested.
“She didn’t mention that.”
“No, but it makes sense. That’s the road that Osten and Vielam would have to use to bring their armsmen back to Brysta,” Kharl pointed out.
“It’s not a Hamorian barracks,” Erdyl said.
Kharl shook his head. He’d never said anything to them about his suspicions. Should he? He fingered his bare chin. There was no point in hiding his thoughts now.
“Ser?”
“I’ve been thinking about all this. All those patrollers are nothing more than a small army. They all report to Captain Egen. He’s Lord West’s youngest son. He’s moved the regular lancers and armsmen-the ones that might be more loyal to Lord West or Overcaptain Osten-to the quarry fort in the south. That means they’re farther from Brysta, and his patrollers control who travels south, or who can do so quickly, anyway.”
“That means they can′t know what’s happening in Brysta, not soon,” suggested the undercaptain, “unless this Egen wants them to know.”
“Egen’s also the one dealing with the Hamorians.”
“You think he’s trying to get rid of his brother and succeed his father?” asked Demyst.
“I don′t know. He’s an evil little bastard, and he wouldn’t hesitate to do something like that if he thought he could get away with it. He’s also tightenedup the laws and is having the lord justicers sentence more men to work in the quarries and, I’d guess, on that road as well.”
“The Hamorians are backing him?” Erdyl moistened his lips.
“The cloth for the patroller uniforms comes from Hamor. There are only Hamorian ships in the harbor. The Hamorians are supplying engineers, and they’re often in the south.” Kharl paused. “And more than half the envoys from other lands have left Brysta, for one reason or another.”
“When is something going to happen?” asked Demyst.
“Soon, but how soon, I don’t know. I’m hoping I can find out more from Lord West tomorrow.”
“I’d better see about looking into hiring a night guard or two,” suggested the undercaptain. “We can afford that, can’t we?”
“You think they’ll come after an envoy?” asked Erdyl.
“Egen will come after anyone he thinks he can best.” Kharl snorted.
“You know a lot about him?” Demyst frowned.
“Enough.” More than enough, Kharl added to himself. “The guards are a good idea. I should talk to them before you hire them, though.”
“I’d planned on that, ser. Mantar has some cousins, used to be armsmen. Thought I could talk to them first.”
“You might have Enelya get a look at them, too.”
Erdyl and Demyst exchanged glances.
“She knows about some of the worst ones.” Kharl looked to Erdyl. “Did Jemelya tell you anything else we should know?”
“She said that the roads to the east weren’t usually passable during the late-summer rains. Not with any speed, leastwise.”
“I think she’s suggesting that when the rains finally come, so will trouble,” ventured the undercaptain.
That made an unfortunate kind of sense to Kharl. “Anything else?”
“I can′t think of anything. I mean, she talked a lot, about everything from the good taverns to Overcaptain Osten’s consort only giving him three daughters and Egen not having a consort, and Vielam’s consort and children dying last summer when their coach went off the road and into the river …″
Kharl winced.
“Ser?”
“I’d wager that the coach accident was planned. That leaves no heirs.”
“Planned by who?” asked Demyst. “Egen or the Hamorians?”
“I’d say Hamor. That’s just a guess.” Kharl’s eyes rested on Erdyl once again.
“That’s all, ser. I think. If I recall anything else, I’ll tell you.”
Kharl stood. “After we eat, Erdyl, I’d like you to make the rounds of the envoys’ residences. Ask for the secretaries or assistants. If they’re there, ask about the date you’ve chosen for our function. What I really want to know is how many of them are still in Brysta and how many have left or are planning on leaving soon.”
“Yes, ser.”
“When you get back, you and I will go over what I’ll need to expect when I present my credentials tomorrow. And some good meaningless phrases.”
Erdyl bobbed his head.
“I’ll start on trying to find some guards, ser, this afternoon. Unless you need me,” said Demyst.
“Not this afternoon.”
After Erdyl and Demyst left, Kharl paced back and forth across the residence library. Everything seemed calm in Brysta, but beneath that apparent calm everything was unsettled, and likely to get more so in the days ahead. He paused and looked out the window. The sky was still clear. So far.
Before long, Khelaya and Enelya would be serving the midday meal. Kharl wasn′t that hungry, but he supposed that he needed to eat. The way matters were going, he might have to do magery at any time.
He tried not to think about Jeka, but the image of her eyes, and the sound of her laugh, remained with him.
LXXIV
Kharl stood in the library on twoday morning, waiting for Mantar to ready the carriage to take him to present his credentials to Lord West. He hoped he could remember all that Erdyl and he had gone over the evening before, especially all of the phrases and courtesies.
On Erdyl’s advice, he wore his second-best finery, a silver-gray shirt, black jacket trimmed in green, and black trousers and boots. His eyesdropped to the silver box on the desk, shimmering from its recent polishing. The box had had been Hagen’s suggestion for a token to Lord West. A handspan in length and half that in height and width, it was ornately chased silver, with three narrow courses of stone inset as a border on the hinged top. The outer course and the inner courses were black onyx, and the middle course was lapis lazuli. In the center was a silver replica of the seal of the West Quadrant.
“Something tasteful, but not something he can convert easily into golds,” Hagen had said. “One never gives such to another lord. It’s in poor taste and imprudent, besides.”
Kharl had understood that well enough. He smiled at his recollection of Hagen’s dry words. He eased the gift into a plain pouch of new soft calf leather, then slipped the pouch into the elaborately carved leather case that held his credentials as envoy. He set the case on the corner of the library desk and turned toward the window, looking out at the dark clouds to the west. Were the late-summer rains finally arriving, or would the clouds blow over and leave Brysta hot and close for another eightday?
What did he expect to find out from meeting Ostcrag, the present Lord West? Did Ostcrag know what Egen was planning? Did Osten? Did they have plans of their own? If the reception and presentation allowed any questions at all, Kharl might get a better idea about Hamor and Nordla.
All that wouldn’t help with Jeka, though. There, he was at a loss. He’d worried about her, but he’d been stunned to feel his own reactions to her. That was something he’d never expected. He just hadn’t, and he was thinking about her when he should have been worrying about Lord West and Egen.
Warrl-what had happened to his youngest also lay close to the surface of his thoughts, with the sadness sweeping over him when he least expected it.
“The carriage is ready, ser,” Demyst announced, from outside the library.
Kharl picked up the elaborately tooled leather case with his credentials. As he stepped out of the library, he saw three men awaiting him-Erdyl, Demyst, and Alynar. He raised his eyebrows.