The rest of the day was as quietly busy as the beginning, and Quaeryt was more than ready to retreat from the post to the villa, where Vaelora was pleased to inform him that she had located a matching settee and chair for the salon-which would, of course, require the use of a wagon to transport from the shop in Extela to the villa.
Still … it was pleasant to eat with just Vaelora and to linger over the evening meal that was neither bland nor overcooked … and the quiet of the villa was welcome as well. He also had to admit, if only to himself, that he was definitely enjoying the larger bed and the privacy of their own dwelling, governor’s residence or not.
Shortly after eighth glass on Meredi morning a messenger arrived at the post and delivered Aramyn’s rebuttal to Ceasyt’s petition, and Quaeryt immediately read it. He ended up going through both the original petition and the rebuttal several times before he began to write his recommendation to the High Justicer in Solis, a recommendation he suspected Aextyl would have to rewrite considerably.
By just before the third glass of the afternoon, he had finished his final draft and was riding back out to Aextyl’s dwelling. Several men and women on the avenue waved to him, and he inclined his head in return.
Even Aextyl’s daughter greeted him with a cheerful, “Good afternoon,” when she opened the door to let him into the justicer’s dwelling.
The old justicer smiled warmly, as well, when Quaeryt entered the small study. “It’s good to see you, Governor.”
“It’s even better to see you.” Quaeryt set the stack of three papers on the study desk. “The short document on top is my draft recommendation. Beneath that is Aramyn’s rebuttal, and beneath that is Caesyt’s petition. Caesyt did not inform Aramyn. I did not put that in my draft, because I didn’t know whether that was legally applicable, based on what you told me on Lundi.”
“It’s a common courtesy, but it’s not required. It is required that you assure that Aramyn is notified, which his brief will substantiate that you have done. You will need copies of both the brief and the rebuttal to be sent to Solis with your recommendation.”
“I hope asking you to redraft my recommendation isn’t too much of an imposition.”
“Nonsense. It’s good to have something productive and useful to do.”
Quaeryt eased the two golds onto the desk. “If you think your work is worth more…”
Aextyl laughed. “You’re overpaying me, but I’m glad to take it. I would judge I’ll be finished by midday tomorrow, but give me until third glass, just in case.”
“I can do that. If I schedule a hearing for eighth glass next Mardi, would you be willing to come an advise me?”
“If I’m feeling well … and I should be.”
“I would appreciate it. You know how I feel about Advocate Caesyt.”
“I felt the same way when I was high justicer. I can’t imagine his presence is any more pleasant these days.”
Quaeryt stepped back and inclined his head. “Then … here, tomorrow afternoon?”
“I’m not likely to be anywhere else,” replied Aextyl cheerily.
Quaeryt made his way to the entry hall, where the justicer’s narrow-faced daughter stood, waiting.
“Thank you … Governor.” Her voice was low.
“Thank me? He’s the one helping me.”
She smiled softly. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. He misses being a justicer.”
Quaeryt thought he understood. Aextyl was too frail in body to remain a justicer, and too alert in mind not to suffer the loss of being one. “I’ll be relying on his advice so long as he’s willing to provide it.”
“As long as he can, he’ll appreciate being able to do so.”
Left unspoken, Quaeryt thought, was the daughter’s appreciation of the fees Aextyl received for that advice … but that was fine with him. After a parting smile, he stepped out into the gusty wind that had appeared from nowhere and untied the mare. He glanced northward toward Mount Extel, but while he could not see the truncated peak because of the trees, the sky appeared clear of ash or the waviness of hot air.
He mounted quickly and turned the mare back toward the post.
45
Quaeryt and Vaelora sat at the table in the private dining chamber, eating breakfast. Quaeryt was enjoying a puffy almond pastry and sipping truly hot tea when Vaelora, who had appeared pensive since before the two had seated themselves, set down her cup and looked at her husband.
“Dearest … I’m worried.”
“So am I … about quite a number of things. So are you. This sounds like a specific worry. What is it?”
“We’ve been here a month, and we haven’t received a single invitation to dine anywhere.”
Quaeryt managed not to laugh or grin … barely. No invitations to dine when a quarter of the city had been buried in lava and ash? When he’d had to detail troopers to patrol the streets to restore a semblance of order. “We’ve only been here a month, and for the first few weeks, I doubt anyone was hosting dinners.”
“Shenna tells me that there have been a number of dinners. We should have been invited. We weren’t.”
“It could be that you’re being snubbed because you married a scholar,” suggested Quaeryt.
“A scholar who is a governor and who has been a princeps … and who’s wed to the sister of Lord Bhayar,” Vaelora replied. “This is where I was born. It’s not right.”
“Grelyana, you think? Should we have pushed as we did on the furnishings?”
Vaelora tilted her head. “I wouldn’t think so … but…”
“Why don’t you see if Shenna can find out?”
Vaelora laughed softly. “She’s been trying, but it’s not something anyone’s talking about, and there are only a few people she can ask directly.”
Quaeryt nodded and took the last sips of his tea. Even after working in the Telaryn Palace as a scholar and then as princeps, he’d never realized just how complicated being a provincial governor would be, especially in a partly destroyed city.
Although it was Jeudi morning, there were no hearings scheduled, and Quaeryt didn’t rush in riding to the post. He did have the feeling that it wouldn’t be long before his Mardi and Jeudi mornings, if not part of the afternoons on those days, would be taken by hearings … at least until he could find an honest justicer. And that was another task he needed to get on with. He did enjoy the ride, since the air was warm, if slightly damp, and the trees were beginning to leaf beyond mere buds, and even a few early flowers were peering out.
He glanced to Mount Extel, but the peak showed no signs of throwing out ash or even hot gases, and that was good.
After he arrived at the post, he went looking for Pharyl because he wanted to talk to the Civic Patrol chief about scheduling the hearing on Caesyt’s petition, but Pharyl was already on his way to the Civic Patrol station. So he stopped to see Skarpa.
The commander looked up from what appeared to be a sheaf of papers containing rosters. “Haven’t seen you around much lately, sir.”
“I’ve been around … more places than I’d like at times and then spending more time than I’d ever thought likely on various things I never thought I’d have to deal with-from buying a governor’s residence to acting as a justicer … and a supply quartermaster for the poor.”
“That seafaring background still shows through.”
“Oh…”
“For cavalry and foot, a quartermaster is supply. A supply quartermaster is redundant.”
“Whereas for those of us who’ve trod the pearly deep, or some such, a quartermaster is a navigator. Old habits die hard.” Quaeryt smiled, then asked, “How are the night patrols going?”
“We haven’t had any more trouble, but the squad leaders are reporting that they’re being watched, especially in the areas where the Civic Patrol isn’t going yet.”