After a moment Quaeryt turned and mounted, then rode back up the drive to rejoin the squad. As he rode back to the post, Quaeryt had to admit that he was amazed at Hyleor’s arrogance and effrontery, but he hadn’t really wanted to throw a factor-even one of dubious reputation-into one of the Civic Patrol gaol cells. But why doesn’t he want to testify? Because he doesn’t want to get on the bad side of a High Holder and his bastard son?
Either way, Hyleor’s attitude was going to make life more difficult for Quaeryt.
It was half past four when Vaelora returned to the post, and Quaeryt was waiting in the courtyard as she dismounted. She wasn’t smiling, and he decided not to ask anything. He just smiled warmly. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“It’s not as if I’d been traveling to Solis and returned.” Her voice was edgy. “It feels that way. It took me half the day to arrange for linens-bed linens, towels, table linens, napkins … even blankets. Half a day! I could have done it in a glass or two in Solis.”
Quaeryt nodded, not wanting to point out the obvious-that they weren’t in Solis, but in a much smaller city recently devastated by an eruption and earth tremors. “I know. It’s much harder to get things accomplished here.”
“Everything is an endless chore!”
“It does feel that way.”
“Stop humoring me. You sound more condescending than Aunt Nerya at her worst.”
“I do understand. I’m paying more for timbers, and they take longer to mill. I can’t find an honest justicer … and I just got a dispatch from your brother.”
Vaelora looked ready to snap back at Quaeryt until she heard his last news. “What’s the matter?”
“Let’s go up to our quarters, and I’ll tell you. It’s not terrible, but it’s not as good as it could be.”
“Tell me now.”
“In the quarters.”
“Fine.”
Quaeryt didn’t bother to hide his wince at the coldness of her tone. Unless he could calm Vaelora down, it was likely to be a long evening. He had to walk quickly to keep up with her as she marched across the courtyard and up the outside stairs. The heel of the boot on his bad left leg caught on one of the steps, and he barely caught himself.
Vaelora didn’t even look in his direction.
Only when the quarters door was shut did she turn. “Well?”
“You don’t have to shout at me,” he said quietly.
“I hate it when you get that condescending tone in your voice. And then you refuse to tell me…”
“Did you ever think that I’d rather not say what he wrote in the courtyard with troopers all around?”
“You still didn’t have to be so condescending.”
“I shouldn’t have been.”
“No … you shouldn’t, not with everything I’ve gone through today. And Grelyana showed up at the villa. She was so falsely sweet, and it was as though you and I had tortured her for those few pieces of furniture, and she wasn’t using them. They would have dry-rotted away in the cellars of her palace. There was so much dust on them. That’s where they had to have come from because they were so filthy.…”
Quaeryt listened for close to a quint before saying a word, deciding against mentioning what Aextyl had said about Grelyana as Vaelora moved on to detailing other problems. Then, when she paused, he said, “Bhayar requires Third Regiment leave Extela no later than the sixteenth of Mayas, but they have to be ready to ride out on notice from him any day after the fifteenth of Avryl.”
“That’s only ten days away! The bridge isn’t finished. The residence won’t be ready. You can’t find trustworthy guards that soon…”
“The Bovarians are moving thousands of troops toward Ferravyl.” From Bhayar’s dispatch, Quaeryt didn’t know the precise number, but it had to be thousands, if not more, given that there were already thousands of Telaryn troops already there.
“Oh…”
By the time they headed down to dinner, Vaelora was at least talking in a level, if slightly cool, tone of voice, and she was charming to the officers in the mess.
Quaeryt still knew it would be a long night, and he hadn’t even mentioned his problems with Hyleor and justicing.
40
By late on Vendrei evening, Vaelora’s coolness had warmed, and on Samedi, Quaeryt arranged for Vhalsyr to be transferred from the post brig to a cell at the Civic Patrol gaol. Then he and Vaelora both accompanied the contingent of troopers to the market squares and watched the sale of flour and potatoes. What struck Quaeryt was the range of people who came to purchase the goods, from those who appeared barely able to scrape together the coppers necessary to those who wore good linens and fine wool garments. That suggested to him that the prices he’d set were the lowest available, and that he might need to raise them before long.
Later on Samedi, both Vaelora and Quaeryt spent time at the villa, and on Solayi, Quaeryt read through another third of Ekyrd’s treatise, concentrating on the procedures for handling a justicer’s hearing … and the recommended sentences for various offenses. After that he managed, somehow, to come up with another homily-this one on vanity, how the excesses of attire, either being too elaborate or putting on a pretense of not caring, were both forms of Naming.
Vaelora left the post on Lundi morning to meet with Shenna and a group of women who provided goods to the poor, so that she could work with them to provide some of the coppers from the offerings at the anomen to the most deserving women, before going to the villa and looking into possible furnishings. After she departed, Quaeryt met with Jhalyt and Heireg to complete the final transfer of twelve hundred golds to Factoria Grelyana, then rode over to the patrol station, accompanied by a squad he likely didn’t need, as well as the four troopers who’d been mostly involved in the incident between Versoryn and Hyleor. He doubted he needed that many troopers, since he’d continued to be most scrupulous in his use of and practice with his shields, but Skarpa felt the escort of a full squad was necessary.
While he didn’t relish the idea of being a justicer, he also couldn’t put off the hearings, not with Vhalsyr’s “uncle” getting involved, if through an advocate, not to mention the limited number of cells available or the fact that Hyleor refused to testify. He wasn’t looking forward to conducting any of the hearings, not at all, but he was especially dreading the one for Vhalsyr.
Pharyl came out to greet him at two quints before eighth glass, and the two walked back to the larger of the two studies in the building.
“The hearing room is ready, and I posted the notices where we could, and on the board outside. I put Vhalsyr first. His advocate has already been in to talk to him. He’s still there.” The chief looked quizzically at Quaeryt.
“You’re still wondering why I’m going ahead with the hearings? Because I don’t see any good justicers coming along anytime soon, and I don’t want people saying that we’re just locking people up and throwing away the key, especially High Holder Cransyr. Also, if some of them are innocent, unlikely as that may be, we don’t want them locked away any longer than necessary. Also … since Hyleor isn’t likely to show up, you may have trouble proving that Vhalsyr actually assaulted anyone.”
“I’ve thought of that. If the patrollers had arrested him, that could be a problem. The older patrollers have the attitude that anyone they bring in is guilty. Since Vhalsyr was caught by troopers … if it turns out that way, it won’t be quite that bad.”
“The patrollers are likely right about that. Vhalsyr’s guilty. I know that. So do you, but proving it with a High Holder’s advocate defending him and ready to report any irregularity is another question.”
“For the other three … what range of sentences are possible?” asked Pharyl. “Are they like in the regiment?”
Quaeryt realized, belatedly, that Pharyl was probably less aware of nonmilitary justicing than Quaeryt himself. The half blind leading the blind. “The possible sentences for conviction of lesser offenses-the first time-are various degrees of flogging and imprisonment, plus branding on the back of the hand for anything but misdemeanors such as public nuisances or drunken disorderliness. For a second conviction, much more of the same. A third offense merits death. Are any of the three branded?”