“You will not have to pay to replace it anytime soon, and there will be more benefits from Lord Bhayar’s rule. He is not seizing your goods or your women. He is not taking your factorages and turning them over to Telaryn merchants. He is asking for reasonable compensation for putting Bovaria back together under a fairer ruler. Can you honestly tell me that Rex Kharst was fair?”
Neither factor would meet Quaeryt’s gaze.
After several moments Vaelora said quietly, “Do you wish me to report to my brother that you refuse to pay this pittance?”
“Lady Vaelora … ten golds is not a pittance…” sputtered the white-haired Palumyn.
“To keep your factorages and your livelihood after you supported a ruler as evil as Kharst … I would not call it exorbitant. Would you?” Vaelora raised her eyebrows.
Again, both men lowered their eyes.
“Are there any other matters you would like to bring before Lady Vaelora?”
“No … Commander,” replied Jarell. “We appreciate your guidance and forbearance, and that of Lord Bhayar.”
Quaeryt had strong doubts that either man felt much appreciation.
After the pair left, he shook his head. “I’m going to need to visit the factors’ council tomorrow and obtain a listing of all factors … and make it clear that we really don’t want to have to make an example of Daaren, but that we will … if we must.”
Vaelora nodded sadly.
“Now … if you would like to repair to your chamber and wash up…”
“What about you? You aren’t exactly the freshest of spring mint, dearest.”
Quaeryt grinned. “I will follow your example … after I check with Zhelan.”
Not surprisingly, Quaeryt found the major out in the side courtyard, watching as the squad leaders carried out their duties. When he finished with Zhelan, Quaeryt met with the imager undercaptains and gave them a simple duty for the next day-to ride up and down the streets of Daaren and to take note and write down the names of all factorages, first thing in the morning.
Finally, well after washing up-and sunset, if before complete darkness-Quaeryt and Vaelora joined Zhelan, Calkoran, and Khaern in the same private room at the Grande Laar Inn they had used months before, where they ate an adequate meal of mutton slices and gravy with slightly overfried lace potatoes.
“What are your plans, sir?” asked Khaern. “Will we be riding out for Laaryn on Jeudi or Vendrei?”
“I’m considering not going that way at all. There are roads up the Phraan. The distance would be shorter, and we’d rejoin the Great Canal at Eluthyn. After that we can use the road along the Great Canal.”
“How good are those roads to Eluthyn? Do you know?” asked Zhelan.
“The maps I have show that there are roads. I doubt they’re any better than the ones we’ve been traveling.” Quaeryt decided against asking if they could be worse. He knew from experience just how bad the roads in Bovaria could be-except for those ancient stone roads laid down by the Naedarans, roads so durable that they still put to shame anything built more recently by Bovarians. “There’s another reason I’d like to take the way along the Phraan. The people will see that Lord Bhayar does indeed hold Bovaria … and Bhayar won’t have to send a regiment on a special trip along the Phraan. Since Meinyt has, or had, Fifth Regiment in Laaryn, we won’t accomplish anything by going that way.”
“The factors and merchants all over Bovaria need a little shaking up,” said Khaern. “That’s just my opinion, sir, Lady Vaelora. I think going up the Phraan would help.”
“It will be harder,” prophesied Calkoran. “They do not know what a true road is. For them a mud track is a road.”
Quaeryt chuckled. “You’re right, but we might as well travel in a way that will help settle Bovaria down and get them to understand Bhayar is here to stay.”
“You do have that talent, dearest,” murmured Vaelora in such a low tone Quaeryt doubted the others had heard.
“I’d like to hear about what each of you needs for your men and mounts,” Quaeryt said quickly, “and what supplies you think we’ll need, especially anything we might not find in smaller towns. There aren’t likely to be many larger towns along the Phraan because it’s shallower and narrower than the River Laar.” And most trade under Kharst and previous rulers relied on the rivers. He looked to Khaern. “If you’d start, Subcommander.”
Quaeryt had no doubt that he and Vaelora would be listening for a time, but he needed to know what was necessary as soon as possible.
10
Much as he wanted to stay in bed on Meredi morning, Quaeryt was up early, worrying about everything from provisions to getting to the factors’ council. While he still had over three hundred golds from what Skarpa had sent, that was not much, even if he spent it only on supplies, not for fifteen hundred troopers. And he was only paying half the going rate. He didn’t want to commandeer the provisions, but he also wanted to get the point across that the merchants and factors would have to shoulder some costs beyond token tariffs.
Accompanied by a half squad from first company, he did manage to rein up in front of the small, two-story brick building off the lower main square in Daaren just before eighth glass. There was no sign or inscription on the structure, but Quaeryt recalled it from the last visit, if only because it was the sole unidentified building around the square. That, in itself, suggested the power of the factors.
Before he dismounted Quaeryt surveyed the square, an area paved with rough cobblestones, unlike the smoother paving blocks used in Telaryn or in the ancient Naedaran roads. In the center was a square pedestal, and on the pedestal was a statue of a man, cast in bronze old enough that it held a patina of brown and green. Presumably, the man depicted was a former rex, since Kharst had not ruled long enough for a statue that old, and Quaeryt doubted that any local personage would have spent the golds for what would have been regarded as Naming. Apparently, in Bovaria, the rex was above that particular sin.
All that reminded Quaeryt that it had been almost a month since he’d had to conduct a service or deliver a homily. So far … so far, he had to say he didn’t miss it.
He eased off his mount and turned to the squad leader. “Just wait. This shouldn’t take more than a quint or so.”
“Yes, sir.”
Holding full shields, he walked up to the door and opened it, stepping inside. Once in the entry hall, he tucked his uniform visor cap into the crook in his left arm and crossed the open space to the front table.
The clerk behind the table looked up … and seeing the uniform, and most likely Quaeryt’s unnaturally white hair, nails, and dark eyes … froze.
“I’m here to see Factor Palumyn. I assume he’s here.”
The clerk swallowed, seemingly unable to respond.
“Where is he?” Quaeryt asked politely.
The clerk grasped a small bell and rang it.
After a moment the leftmost of the two doors in the wall behind the clerk opened, and Factor Jarell stepped out.
Quaeryt wasn’t surprised.
Neither, apparently, was Jarell, who smiled and asked, “What brings you here, Commander?”
“I need to go over a few matters with Factor Palumyn. I assume he’s there.” Quaeryt pointed to the closed door.
“He should be,” replied Jarell amiably, walking to the door and opening it. “Commander Quaeryt is here to see you.” He gestured.
Quaeryt smiled. “After you.”
Jarell stepped into the study, and Quaeryt followed, closing the door behind him.
The study was small, some three yards by four, and held only a writing table and the chair behind it, in which Palumyn sat, almost as if sculpted of marble, and two other armless wooden chairs. Quaeryt did not bother to seat himself.
Palumyn’s eyes fixed on Quaeryt’s midsection, or rather on Quaeryt’s visor cap and the hand and fingers that held it. After a moment he shook his head, then looked up at Quaeryt. “That explains much.”