“You won’t have to be there all the time now, then?”
“I wouldn’t think so, but I’ll likely have to be there a bit of most days for a time to make sure things go as planned.”
“You didn’t when the chateau was rebuilt.”
“That was because Voltyr was there. He’s in Antiago. Once we get started here, though, I think Baelthm and Horan can keep matters in order.”
“Good.”
“Have you heard anything from Submarshal Myskyl?” Quaeryt asked.
“No … and neither has Deucalon.”
Or Deucalon says he hasn’t. Quaeryt wasn’t about to verbalize that thought.
“Why are you so concerned? I didn’t hear anything from you and Vaelora all winter.”
“We were in Khel and in Antiago, much farther away, and it’s approaching summer, and you haven’t heard from Myskyl in more than two months.”
“What do you suggest I do? Send you to see what’s happened?”
It might not hurt. “That’s your decision, sir.”
“I’ve thought about it … If there’s no word in another week, we’ll have to consider it.” Bhayar shook his head. “It’s not like Myskyl.”
To the contrary, it’s very like him. He only communicates when it suits him … or when he has to. “That is a bit worrisome.”
“Quaeryt … I know you distrust Myskyl, but he has yet to prove that he is not to be trusted.”
He can be trusted to serve his own ends. “For your sake, sir, I hope that such proof never occurs.”
“Enough. Just go on and get your isle in order so that you can spend time administering all the troubling details that are cropping up.”
“I will … but you could send some of them to Vaelora right now.”
“I already have, but I’d feel better with both of you working on them.” Bhayar paused. “When will you have the draft of that codex done?”
“In a few days, we hope.”
“What about tariff schedules?”
“We’re working those out as part of the code.”
“And the tariff notices?”
“There’s no way we can send those yet, but they’re not due until the end of Erntyn.” Almost four months away. “We don’t have enough dispatch riders yet, and no dispatch stations, and we’re still working on a census of High Holders. The ones we’ve met with know what’s expected, and what happened to those who didn’t pledge allegiance should encourage all of them to pay. The factors already know they have to send them in.” Because we made that clear in every town through which we passed.
“We need dispatch rider stations to the west first. We have them along the River Aluse, all the way to Solis.”
“We could set the ones in the west up if we could use a battalion from the marshal’s forces,” observed Quaeryt.
“You plan where they should be. You’re the only one who’s ridden the entire way to Liantiago.”
“We can do that. I’ll have a recommendation for the locations for you by Lundi.”
“Good. That’s the sort of thing I expect from you.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was still barely before eighth glass when Quaeryt reached the headquarters holding and met with Khaern, Calkoran, and Zhelan. He asked all three for their thoughts on where the dispatch rider stations should be located. All of them agreed on the main locations in Eluthyn, Laaryn, Daaren, Croilles, and Kephria, but after that, there were other considerations.
“Talk it over with your experienced majors and captains, and the most senior squad leaders. I’d appreciate your complete recommendations by fourth glass this afternoon … if you can. Lord Bhayar is interested now…”
All three officers nodded.
Then they discussed the plans for the following week and other matters.
Next came a meeting with the imagers. Quaeryt began by saying, “After today and tomorrow, you’re all going to be working more on your own to build and rebuild the isle of piers. Lord Bhayar has made it most clear that he needs my efforts at rebuilding the administration of Bovaria. Given the work you did in rebuilding the Chateau Regis, I expect you will do well in rebuilding the isle. It will take longer.”
He smiled, then looked to Lhandor. “How are you doing?”
“I have several rough plans, sir,” offered Lhandor.
“Let’s see them.”
“They’re only rough, sir.”
“I understand. There’s little point in doing more than rough plans until we’ve cleared away the isle … but let me see them, if you would?”
Lhandor extended the sheaves of paper.
Quaeryt looked through them once, noting the careful drafting. He’d seen supposedly finished plans that didn’t compare. Then he went back to one plan and studied it again, placing it on the top of the stack he handed back to the young Pharsi undercaptain. “The one on top is the sort I have in mind. Bring that with you today, so that you can compare it to the lay of the isle.”
“Yes, sir.”
After a brief outline of what he planned for the day, Quaeryt dismissed the undercaptains. While the imagers readied their mounts and the duty company, Quaeryt sought out Gauswn, who had already started the student imagers on their lesson in an empty tack room.
The chorister walked to the door. “You won’t be needing them today?”
“No. Keep them at their lessons. We’re headed to the isle. With some fortune, it shouldn’t be long before we have a functioning anomen for you. We could use it as a place for lessons in the beginning … if that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I doubt the Nameless would object, Commander.” Gauswn smiled. “Undercaptain Baelthm was asking my thoughts about what might be necessary for refurbishing it.”
“Good.” Quaeryt paused, then asked, “How are you finding things here? I apologize for leaving you to your own devices so much. You only got here a few days after we returned from Antiago, and there’s been quite a bit to do.”
“You intend to rebuild that entire isle?”
Quaeryt nodded. “It’s not going to be just a military post, but a community, and that will require not only regimental quarters, but stables and housing for imagers and their families as well as housing for the senior rankers and officers who have families. And the anomen, of course.”
“Lord Bhayar agreed to that?” Gauswn smiled. “Did you give him much of a choice?”
“The situation gives him little choice,” said Quaeryt, going on to explain the difficulties of maintaining order in Lydar over time primarily by the use of or threat of force.
When Quaeryt finished, Gauswn looked evenly at Quaeryt. “And what of you and the imagers? After all the power you have shown … will you be content to allow another to rule less wisely than you might?”
“Content? Possibly not, but that is the only fashion in which Lydar can be ruled. The Naedarans used the power of imagers, and it failed them. Using imagers as a direct arm of the ruler made Antiago weak and a poor place to live.”
“And three heads are wiser than one,” concluded Gauswn.
Quaeryt suspected what the chorister meant, but asked softly, “Three?”
“Lord Bhayar’s, yours, and Lady Vaelora’s.”
“As well as the heads of those we consult,” added Quaeryt. “I already miss Skarpa. He was practical. So was Meinyt.”
“Did something happen to the major?” Gauswn looked concerned.
“Oh … no. Not that I know. He’s a regimental subcommander, and the acting regional governor for the area around Laaryn. But you can’t talk to someone when they’re hundreds of milles away.”
“That was your doing, wasn’t it?”
“Skarpa’s and mine,” Quaeryt admitted. “Meinyt’s practical and fair. He knows what he knows and what he doesn’t, and he’s got two imagers who are also practical to help him.”
“That was your doing.”
“It made sense.” Quaeryt laughed softly and ruefully. “But sometimes what seems to make sense doesn’t always.” He couldn’t help but think about his failure to correct the steward at Laetor, when he’d thought it hadn’t made sense to make what he’d thought was a minor correction in rank. A minor correction … and Skarpa is dead.