“I’d be surprised if there’s any more trouble in the north, but Bhayar is also going to be unhappy because he’s going to have to realize that the land he rules is too big for him to control it just by personal maneuvering and intrigue.”
“You’re right. I’ve been saying things along those lines, and he’s been close to dismissive.”
“Have we heard anything from the Khellan High Council?”
“Not a thing, but it might be another month … if they have to consult with all the local councils.”
That requirement had skipped Quaeryt’s mind, but another thought struck him after Vaelora nodded to the guard at the base of the narrow circular staircase and he followed her up the steps. “How did you get that dispatch?”
“Major Voltyr sent it with instructions that if you were not present, it was to go to me, and if I were not present, to Bhayar directly. It arrived last Lundi. The one you read is a copy. I even forged Voltyr’s signature. After reading the original, I made the copy and gave the original to Bhayar. Otherwise, he might have been misled by reports that were sent to Deucalon. He is still less than pleased.”
“Do you know what he told the marshal?”
“No. He said that matters would remain as they were until he had a report from you. He did say that Deucalon agreed that was for the best.”
“Deucalon is trying to maintain a position where he hasn’t committed himself.”
The eyes of the guard outside Bhayar’s study widened when he saw both Vaelora and Quaeryt as they walked from the top of the staircase toward the half-open study door.
“If you’d announce us,” suggested Quaeryt, removing his sweaty visor cap and tucking it under his arm.
“Yes, sir, Lady…” The guard turned. “Commander Quaeryt and Lady Vaelora, Lord Bhayar.”
“Send them in and close the door.”
Once more, the dark-haired Lord of Telaryn and Rex of Bovaria was standing by the open window. Even from across the study Quaeryt could see the dark circles under his eyes. Bhayar did not speak until the door clicked shut.
“You could have sent a dispatch.” His words were flat.
Quaeryt recognized the anger behind that flatness. “Not without risking your life and rule. And that is something I would not do.”
“You could have sent it with a full squad.”
“Against all of Deucalon’s regiments? I came ahead of Northern Army with my two companies. I doubt that a squad could have traveled that much faster.” Quaeryt gestured to the conference table. “I suggest we sit. I need to tell you what happened and show you some dispatches of interest.”
“Before we sit … what was Myskyl doing … if anything?”
“Plotting with Lady Myranda of Fiancryt, three imagers who served Kharst, and Marshal Deucalon to remove me and turn you into their puppet, if not to replace you completely. Shall we sit?”
“It might be best, brother dear,” said Vaelora. “I doubt that the story and all the details can be conveyed all that briefly.”
Bhayar’s face remained impassive as he walked toward the table.
Once the three were seated, Quaeryt began. “I’m going to relate events as they happened. Not the mundane business of what the companies did each day, but the events relating to what Myskyl and Deucalon, and others, did and were planning.”
“Should I summon Deucalon to hear this? It appears you are making a charge against him, and he has served Telaryn long and faithfully.”
“I think you need to hear and see what evidence I have. If you have questions about my recollection, you can question any of my troopers, imagers, or officers.”
Bhayar nodded. “Go on, then.”
“We left Variana on the seventeenth of Avryl. Nothing untoward occurred until the twenty-second of Avryl. We were some fifteen milles south of a town called Roleon when the rear guard intercepted a courier from Marshal Deucalon. This is the dispatch he carried.” Quaeryt eased the dispatch from the case and passed it to Bhayar, then waited as he read the dispatch.
“It only gives the date when you left Variana,” said Bhayar, laying the sheet on the table.
“It also points out that Deucalon has ‘obvious reasons’ for not asking about my destination, and states that Myskyl would find the information useful. Later on in the dispatch, you will note that Deucalon states that he agrees with Myskyl’s suggestion that when speaking to High Holders they should always refer to the power of Telaryn and its forces and never mention any individual by name or position. That way, he writes, their allegiance is to Telaryn and not to any individual.”
“Your point is?” asked Bhayar.
Quaeryt wondered if Bhayar were baiting him or being deliberately obtuse. “My point is that Rescalyn never mentioned you by name or position when addressing his officers in the entire time I was in Tilbor. I don’t think that is coincidence, not when Myskyl was Rescalyn’s deputy and was also submarshal under Deucalon.”
“Go on,” said Bhayar.
Can he really not see what was happening? Quaeryt cleared his throat. “When we questioned the dispatch riders, they informed us that they were ordered to avoid our forces and that more than three dispatch riders had arrived from Northern Army in the month before we set out. The courier knew them by name. Yet, according to what you told me, Deucalon said he had received no word from Myskyl since winter.”
Bhayar nodded again, and Quaeryt continued, detailing the information he had received from various sources and High Holders along the way.
“… about fifteen milles north of Yapres, on the twenty-eighth of Avryl, we encountered and had to restrain with imaging another courier. He and his trooper escorts had been dispatched from the high holding of Fiancryt north and west of Rivages by Submarshal Myskyl. They were given specific orders to avoid at all costs any Telaryn troopers.” Quaeryt extended the second dispatch, again waiting for Bhayar to read it.
This time, he did see a hint of a frown, perhaps when Bhayar reached the part that mentioned that Myskyl was effectively holding on to ten thousand golds in tariffs from the factors and High Holders of the north.
“He seems preoccupied with the safety of the golds. By the way, what happened to them?” asked Bhayar.
“They are safe, being transported and guarded by Commander Justanan’s forces. They should arrive here in a day or two. I strongly suggested that he deliver them here.”
“Strongly suggested?”
“He does outrank me,” Quaeryt pointed out
“Who are the others with whom Myskyl was negotiating?”
“Most likely the three remaining imagers who served Kharst, based on what occurred later. All the commanders of Northern Army knew Myskyl was meeting with men they suspected were imagers.” Quaeryt paused, then added, “You might also note the line about ‘those who have usurped the powers of the marshal.’”
“I can read, Quaeryt. Continue.”
Quaeryt did so.
Surprisingly, Bhayar did not interrupt as Quaeryt relayed what had happened on the approach to Rivages, including an entire regiment being deployed to detain or capture him and his troopers, and then how Myskyl had attempted to murder him with the imagers and the metal-lined room and the oversized blunderbuss, ending with, “… After the hold house burned, I met with the two surviving senior commanders, Justanan and Nieron. Once the fire had died to ashes we inspected the remnants of the house, and they verified that there was indeed a blunderbuss mounted in the wall and that the so-called officers’ salon was metal-lined to keep me from imaging-”
“Why didn’t that work?”
“It would have if my imagers hadn’t kept Myskyl from closing the door…” Quaeryt did not mention the appearance of Erion, only that the interplay of imaging forces had resulted in lightnings and flame that killed Myskyl and the Bovarian imagers, and that the imager undercaptains’ efforts to keep Luchan from using the blunderbuss had resulted in his death. He did mention Lady Myranda’s escape.
“You couldn’t stop her?”