Quaeryt smiled politely. “I might send Major Heireg to see him, but my business is with the High Holder.”
“Sir…”
“I don’t believe that you offered me the chance to make myself clear. As the new governor of Montagne, I am here to see High Holder Chaffetz. If I find it difficult to see him, in turn, he will find it difficult to see me.”
The man froze for a moment.
“It might be best if you looked more closely inside the holding to see if he might be found to be available.” Quaeryt’s voice was pleasant. “Oh … and since my wife accompanied me, perhaps the lady of the chateau might wish to meet her while I discuss various matters with the High Holder.”
“I will inquire within, Governor, to see if I might have been mistaken. In the meantime, if you would care to enter…”
“I will wait. There is little point to entering if Lord Chaffetz cannot be found.”
When the door closed behind the functionary, Quaeryt turned and walked back to where Vaelora remained mounted.
“If he does not find the High Holder, and quickly, he is more of an idiot than he first appeared,” murmured Vaelora.
“It is clear that the post of governor here has not been what it should be. That is something we must remedy. Now … under the guise of chatter…”
“I’m to let slip who I am and that you are a longtime boyhood acquaintance of my brother,” finished Vaelora.
“Exactly … and anything else that will quietly terrify his wife or daughter or whoever entertains you.”
Vaelora just smiled.
Less than half a quint passed before the iron doors-both of them-opened, and a man and a woman appeared.
“Governor … Lady … welcome to Chaffhyem,” declared the man, his voice a resonant tenor. “We had not expected you, or we certainly would have prepared a more appropriate welcome.”
Quaeryt held out a hand for Vaelora to dismount. She did so gracefully, and delicately, rather than in the athletic and more powerful manner with which Quaeryt was most familiar. Then the two of them advanced.
“High Holder Chaffetz, I am Quaeryt, and this is my wife, the Lady Vaelora.” Quaeryt could sense the puzzlement behind Chaffetz’s polite smile as the High Holder took in Quaeryt’s brown scholar’s garb. “We arrived in Extela late on Mardi, and this is the first moment we have had to call on you. I do apologize for the suddenness, but I fear that you and I have matters of a less than routine matter to discuss. My wife prevailed on me to let her accompany me, and since it has been many years since she was last here, I had hoped that she and your lady might have a chance to become acquainted while we discuss more serious matters.”
“Of course … of course. Do come in.”
Quaeryt ignored Chaffetz’s forced heartiness, and he and Vaelora followed the couple inside the chateau. He did keep light shields around them both, just in case, although he doubted that Chaffetz was likely to be hasty in any action.
Once inside, they stood in an entry hall some five yards wide and less than ten deep, with a polished floor of black stones set in white mortar. Beyond the entry hall was a grand staircase and, just before it, a corridor that ran the length of the chateau, one branch to the left, the other to the right.
“If you would accompany us…” Chaffetz gestured to the staircase.
“Thank you.”
At the top of the wide staircase, also of black stone, if with balustrades of well-polished and ancient goldenwood, the High Holder’s wife escorted Vaelora to the left.
Chaffetz led Quaeryt to the right, past two closed doors and to a third that was open to a long and narrow study. Only the side walls held floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and the wood was of old oak. There were three wooden armchairs, if with leather padded seats, around a small table at one end of the chamber, and a desk with a similar chair behind it at the other end. Chaffetz gestured to the table and took one of the chairs, seating himself easily and immediately. Quaeryt took the one that left the third chair between them.
“For a call of courtesy, Governor … ah…”
“Quaeryt.” Quaeryt ignored the fact that Chaffetz had not offered any form of refreshment.
“Governor Quaeryt,” Chaffetz continued smoothly, “I am surprised that you found it necessary to bring such … an entourage, and even your wife.”
“As you may have heard, the lava rendered the old palace and the governor’s quarters uninhabitable, and I thought my wife might appreciate seeing a place of more refinement than the senior officers’ quarters at the south compound.”
“Ah … yes.” After the briefest hesitation, Chaffetz went on. “I don’t believe I’ve ever known a governor who had your apparent … training.”
“As a scholar? No. There have been few.” None, in fact, of whom Quaeryt knew. “But Lord Bhayar felt my background would be useful here in dealing with the problems.”
“Where were you before, if I might inquire?”
“I was princeps of Tilbor.”
“Ah … that explains it. You have both knowledge and experience in dealing with supplies and disorder. Tell me. Have you known Lord Bhayar long? In a close personal sense, I mean? I can recall when he summered here as a youth.” Chaffetz smiled warmly, but condescendingly.
“Not that long compared to some,” replied Quaeryt thoughtfully, letting the silence draw out for several moments. “Fifteen or sixteen years. We had the same tutor in Solis. He was trained in warfare and politics. I was trained at sea and in scholarship.” Every word he spoke was true, if not quite in the way he implied.
Chaffetz continued to smile, but Quaeryt sensed that the High Holder was far warier than he had been moments before.
“Might I ask … if you would not mind, what forces you brought-you did bring forces, did you not? — to restore and maintain order in Extela?”
“At present, we have two battalions. Within a few days we will have a full regiment.” Quaeryt smiled. “We came ahead while the engineers were repairing the main bridge in Gahenyara.”
“And what is this matter of less than routine that brings you to Chaffhyem?”
“Grain and supplies, both for the garrison and for the city.”
“I am always most willing to supply both. Of course, in a time when both are difficult to find…” Chaffetz shrugged. “We all do what we must.”
“I am most certain, and in complying with Lord Bhayar’s commands, I will also do what I must. I am seeking several hundred barrels of flour and an equivalent amount of potatoes…”
“They can be had … of course … but I must insist on payment in hard coin.”
“You will receive payment in such … but I do doubt that Lord Bhayar would be pleased with the term you used … that you must … insist.”
“A figure of speech, surely.”
“I understand that the winter price of flour was eight silvers a barrel.”
“That was before the difficulties in Extela, Governor.”
“So it was. So it was. And for that reason, I will buy four hundred barrels of flour from you at nine silvers a barrel … and the flour will be the best you have. As for the potatoes, I will buy five hundred bushels at five coppers for every two bushels.”
Chaffetz’s mouth dropped open. “Those terms are preposterous … Governor. When grain is so dear…”
“There are costs, and there are costs,” Quaeryt said gently. “If people get so desperate that those remaining leave the city and seek food where they can find it … that will ravish the small holders who have no walls and armsmen. In turn, that will reduce the tariffs I will have to collect for years to come. I will, of course, have to explain to Lord Bhayar that the desire to extort exorbitant profits on the part of the High Holders was the cause of this disaster, and I am rather loath to do this. Nor do I wish to use soldiers against poor starving people. If that were to occur I would lose some soldiers and blacken Lord Bhayar’s name.”