“He appointed us as joint Ministers of Administration and Supply for Bovaria,” replied Quaeryt. That wasn’t technically correct, since Bhayar had appointed Quaeryt and then told him to work things out with Vaelora, but Quaeryt wanted to assure anyone coming for a decision that either of them could decide. The last thing he wanted was for decisions to stack up if Bhayar sent him elsewhere … or for those decisions to be deferred to Deucalon. He and Vaelora might not always agree, but he was far more likely to be comfortable with any decision she made than one made by Deucalon … or possibly even Bhayar himself, at least in certain matters.
“I see.” Chamion nodded politely. Not a single dark gray hair on his head moved.
“How might we help you?” asked Vaelora.
“It has come to the attention of the council that Lord Bhayar has commissioned … his forces to repair and rebuild certain roads.” Chamion looked to Vaelora and then to Quaeryt.
“That is true,” said Quaeryt.
“All of the roads that have been repaired are on the west side of the river,” Chamion said blandly.
“The west side of the river is where the greatest part of the damage from the battle occurred,” replied Quaeryt. “I would note, however, that the repairs included replacement of both the Nord and Sud Bridges. Those bridges serve both sides of the river.”
“A number of factors and tradespeople are concerned that the better roads on the west side will affect them adversely.”
How could they possibly tell this soon? Quaeryt smiled and said, “The other reason for rebuilding those roads was to provide adequate access to the isle of piers. Lord Bhayar has decided that the isle should be turned to practical purposes, rather than remaining a useless eyesore.”
“Might I ask those purposes?”
“For the time being, two of the old warehouses are being converted to barracks so that fewer of Lord Bhayar’s forces will be required to impose on the people of Bovaria for quarters.”
“Ah … I see. But only two barracks?”
“No city was built in a day, honored Councilor,” interjected Vaelora smoothly. “Nor can all the repairs created by war be made as quickly as one might like.” She paused. “What was it, exactly, that you wished to bring to our attention?”
“Some … have suggested that an improvement of the east river road might demonstrate Lord Bhayar’s concerns for the people of Variana.”
Quaeryt managed a puzzled expression. “I thought those who live on the west bank of the River Aluse were within the city of Variana. Have we misunderstood something?”
“Oh, no. That is true. But…” Chamion frowned. “It is difficult to explain…”
“Do try,” suggested Vaelora warmly. “We would not wish to do something or fail to do something through lack of understanding.”
Quaeryt managed not to smile as he waited for the councilor to reply.
“Most of the city, and most of its people, lies east of the river. They do not see or encounter improvements across the river.”
“I can see that,” acknowledged Quaeryt, “but almost all the damage to the city occurred west of the river. That is why Lord Bhayar’s forces have been busy repairing things there.”
“I understand that, Lady … Commander. Still…”
“You feel that at least some gesture, some improvement, on the east side of the river would be beneficial? Is that it?” asked Quaeryt.
“Precisely. Precisely.”
“Such as a portion of the east river road?” asked Vaelora.
“That would be helpful … although…”
“At present, it will be difficult even to rebuild a section of the east river road opposite the isle of piers,” Quaeryt said mildly.
“The Council had hoped…”
“We all hope, Councilor,” said Vaelora, her voice warm, “but there is much to do. Improving a serviceable road, alas, must often wait until those areas that need roads and have none are satisfied. Or for repairs on those roads required for Lord Bhayar and his forces to be completed.”
“Still…” pressed Chamion, his deep raspy voice taking on almost a whining tone.
“We will look into it,” promised Quaeryt, “and see what is possible.”
“I suppose that is all that can be done.”
“For now,” replied Quaeryt, “unless, of course, the Council wishes to undertake such a project.”
“With the state of the Council’s finances … that is not possible. That is why we came to Lord Bhayar.”
“We appreciate the Council’s faith in Lord Bhayar,” replied Vaelora, her voice still warm. “We will do what is possible when it is possible.”
Quaeryt image-projected warmth, as well as the sense that it was time for Chamion to depart, then stepped forward. “We do hope it will not be too long before we see you and your wife again.”
Once he had escorted Chamion out of the study and closed the door, Quaeryt dropped his smile and turned back toward Vaelora. “They’re like leeches … all of them.”
“That reminds me,” said Vaelora. “There’s also a dispatch from Subcommander Ernyld to you. I didn’t open it.”
Quaeryt walked to the desk and picked up the envelope, addressed to “Ministry of Supply and Administration, Commander Quaeryt,” then reached for his belt knife. “You could have opened it.”
“Me? A mere woman? When it was addressed to you?”
“It was addressed to the ministry, with my name penned almost as an afterthought.”
“Even less would I wish to open it.”
“You don’t care for the subcommander?”
“I’ve never met him.”
“Then why-”
“Deucalon chose him.”
Quaeryt decided not to pursue that line of inquiry, slit open the envelope, and began to read. After skimming the brief courtesies, he centered his attention on the second paragraph.
As you doubtless know, Lord Bhayar has made it most clear that the armies of Telaryn should purchase supplies and not seize them. We are to seek the most favorable prices. It has become clear, however, that, unlike elsewhere, near Variana there is only one price from all merchants and factors for most basic goods. This seems most unreasonable, and far too dear for the forces of the Lord of Telaryn and Bovaria … hoping that the Ministry of Supply might be of assistance in this matter …
With the implication that we aren’t of much use if we can’t. Quaeryt finished reading the letter, then turned to Vaelora. “Ernyld’s complaining about the prices he has to pay to provision the armies, but he never says what the prices are. Do you have any idea what they’re paying for goods like flour, potatoes, mutton, and the like?”
“No. We’ve just been getting simple reports on the total amount spent on a weekly basis for flour, mutton, root vegetables. With everything else…”
“I’ll have to go inquire of his clerks, then. We can’t complain about prices until we know what they are.”
“You don’t want to send a message?”
“The clerks will tell me the real costs.”
“You don’t trust Ernyld any more than I do.”
“Did I ever say otherwise?’ After a moment he added, “I’d best deal with this now.”
“Better you than me, dearest.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.”
They exchanged smiles before Quaeryt donned his visor cap and left the study.
As he walked back to the chateau stables, Quaeryt had to search his memory for the prices Skarpa’s forces had paid for similar goods in Extela. After a moment he recalled that the High Holders had wanted at least a gold a barrel for flour, but the price had been eight silvers before the eruption, and that had been in spring in the north.
Two quints later, at the headquarters holding, Quaeryt found Zhelan outside the dilapidated stables that held first company’s mounts.
“Zhelan … I need your help, again…”
“Sir?”
“Have you been able to purchase grain and flour for first company and Eleventh Regiment?”