“We received word that the rest of the regiment should arrive sometime late tomorrow. They had more trouble with the bridge in Gahenyara than they anticipated. The river had washed out most of the base of one of the stone piers, and they had to reinforce it before they could put the planks in place.”
“Tomorrow, we’re going to begin restoring order to Extela. We can’t afford to wait until we have the Civic Patrol back on the streets.” He paused. “Have the engineers started on repairs on the factorage?”
“Major Dhaeryn says they’ll begin tomorrow. They found a mason and some helpers. He thinks they can keep the materials to less than ten golds.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes, sir. Rather not have the men spending too much time riding the streets.”
“That’s why I didn’t want to have you sending out more than a few patrols until we could provide some food as well.”
“They’ll still fight over the food,” predicted Meinyt.
“No … they won’t. We’ll take enough men to protect the wagon, and we’ll make everyone line up if they want the bread. We’ll have men every ten yards in each area, and they’ll have orders to stop anyone who tries to steal from those given bread. If they have to kill a thief, so be it.”
“People won’t like that.”
“If we don’t do it, then whoever gets food will likely be robbed or end up killing those who try to rob them. Oh … I’ll be with you, and I’ll make an announcement first about how things will work.”
“That will help … for about a quint,” replied Meinyt.
“Then I’ll make it again after we make an example of someone, as many times as we have to. I just hope it doesn’t happen too often.”
“You do have a way of persuading people, sir, “ offered Meinyt, “but still…”
“I know. It won’t be easy, but it won’t get easier, either, especially if we wait any longer. But if we establish order that way, the Civic Patrol, once it’s back on the streets, shouldn’t have quite so much trouble.”
“I hear we’ve already gotten more supplies,” said Fhaen. “How did you manage that?”
“I just told them that Lord Bhayar wouldn’t be very happy if they tried to profit excessively when his ancestral home had been prostrated … and that I’d make sure he knew it, if it came to that.”
“That won’t make you popular with the High Holders, sir.”
“No. But I’d rather have them unhappy than have Bhayar being the unhappy one.” Especially now and in his ancestral home.
Meinyt gave a sardonic laugh. “That’s being caught between lava and a flood.”
Quaeryt didn’t dispute that.
26
In the end, on Samedi morning, Quaeryt decided to take twenty bushels of potatoes along with all the bread that the bakers had turned out and, just in case someone wanted it, two barrels of flour. The column left the post later than Quaeryt had planned, partly because he had to draw out golds for Major Dhaeryn for the Civic Patrol building repairs and go over the notices to the former patrollers with Jhalyt. Even so, it was just before eighth glass before they reached the point on the avenue a mille north of the post gates, where the dwellings began to cluster together-what most would have called the southern edge of the city proper. The two majors and Quaeryt had determined that he and Meinyt and the troops would ride to the south market square first, where they would surround the wagon and then let small numbers of people walk inside the perimeter of mounted troopers to the wagon to get bread … and potatoes, if they wanted them.
As he rode beside Meinyt, with a company directly behind them, followed by the heavily laden wagon, flanked by men with bare sabres, and then by another company, Quaeryt could see that the sky over Mount Extel was clearer than it had been since he had arrived, and the air was cool, but not chill. The patrols that he had sent out on the previous days appeared to have had some impact, because the sidewalks were largely swept clear of ash, although the occasional puffs of cool wind blew ashes off the slate roofs. There were a few people-invariably men-moving about, if with deliberate caution. Some second-story windows were unshuttered, but most ground-floor shutters remained fastened.
“How many do you think will come out?” asked Meinyt.
“Very few to begin with. Then we’re likely to be swamped, and that’s when the trouble will begin.” As a boy in Solis, Quaeryt had seen how mobs behaved … and later as an apprentice quartermaster when his ship had docked in Liantiago during the rice riots there.
“That’s the way I see it. The men will be ready for anything. Told ’em that things would start slow.”
A gray-faced woman with stringy hair scuttled along the stone sidewalk, trying to keep pace with Quaeryt, who wondered from where she’d appeared so suddenly. “Food! Food … please, sir!”
“We’ll be providing bread at the south market square,” Quaeryt called out. “The south market square. If you want food, meet us there!”
On the other side of the avenue, beyond Meinyt, an old man cackled. “Food … they got food.”
People began to appear, staying well clear of the armed troopers, but following the column and the wagon toward the square.
“Word spreads fast,” observed Meinyt.
“Especially if they think they don’t have to pay for it. That’s why we’re only doing this once. On Lundi, we’ll be selling bread, flour, and potatoes in both the main market square and the south market square at the same prices as before the trouble.”
“Some folks will be unhappy that it won’t be free,” said Meinyt.
“Some are always unhappy, and that includes High Holders as well as the poor,” replied Quaeryt dryly. “We’ll give out some bread to women with children, maybe outside the post gates, and from a wagon when we’re selling.” He paused. “Do you think your squad leaders will have trouble keeping it to ten at a time?”
“There don’t look to be as many as there could be. I told them not to hesitate to use their blades, flat side if they can, edge if they can’t. Can’t let a mob get out of control.”
More than several hundred people were already waiting when the wagon, surrounded by two companies of armed troopers, pulled into the center of the square.
As Meinyt supervised the deployment of troopers in a perimeter around the wagon square, Quaeryt rode over to the squad leader in charge of distributing the food. “You set, Squad Leader?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d like you to pass the word to everyone who gets food. They can buy bread, flour, and potatoes…” Quaeryt repeated what he’d told Meinyt. “We won’t be passing out much free food after today, and they need to know that.”
“Sir?”
“We’ll still give some to women with infants, but we can’t feed the whole city, even part of the city. Not for long. We will keep the prices as they were.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll tell ’em.”
“Thank you.”
Making sure his shields were firm, Quaeryt rode out through the troopers on the west side of the square and reined up. Using his imaging, he did his best to project the words he’d already discussed with Meinyt. “We’ll let a few of you at a time past the troopers, and we’ll start with women and children. We’ll start with you.” He pointed toward a woman with two children, one in her arms, and one who clung to her free hand. “No more than ten. No one else gets past here until someone leaves. Every time a person leaves, someone else gets in.”
Then he rode to the north side, the east, and then the south, delivering the same message, before returning to a position near the wagon, but from where he could observe both those approaching the wagon and those in the square beyond the troopers.
After watching for more than a quint, Quaeryt was surprised that while groups of men gathered beyond the square, some of them gathering and then separating, there were no efforts to break the perimeter. Nor did any of the men attempt to attack others-not within sight of the troopers. Most people who received food made a show of eating it inside the perimeter, although Quaeryt noted that more than a few women surreptitiously hid bread in their garments. He could also see that almost all the women also accepted the potatoes, and several had bags that they used to take flour.