“Very faint, but you’re right about the orders. Brother dear would never think that necessary.”
Quaeryt couldn’t help but wonder what else Bhayar would not have thought necessary. Or what you’ve overlooked and not specifically required or inquired about. He hoped that whatever it might be, it wasn’t serious.
“What are our plans for dinner?”
“A quiet dinner with brother dear.”
“I could ask him if he actually ordered Myskyl to report…” Quaeryt shook his head. “He can’t have done that. Myskyl reports to Deucalon. Even if Bhayar asked Deucalon for reports…”
“Myskyl could claim he never received such orders.”
“Which he likely didn’t because it wasn’t in Deucalon’s interest to make that specific. It’s an assumed order in the chain of command.”
“What do you think Bhayar will do?”
“Sooner or later, he’ll send me to see what’s going on.”
“And Myskyl and Deucalon know that, and Myskyl will be waiting for you.”
“Not if he doesn’t know I’m coming.”
“He knows. He just doesn’t know when,” Vaelora said. “If you and Bhayar keep your departure and destination quiet and don’t tell Deucalon, you just might arrive before he expects you.”
“That’s likely the best we can do.”
“What are you going to do before dinner?” asked Vaelora, standing.
“At some point, I want to study the maps of the land and towns north of Variana.”
She eased closer to him. “At some point?”
“Later … I think,” he said as her hands took his, and their eyes met.
Much later, as Quaeryt lay beside Vaelora in the wide and comfortable bed, he couldn’t help but smile. Never would he have dreamed that he would marry, let alone be wed to a woman as beautiful and intelligent as Vaelora.
“Do I make you happy?” she whispered in his ear.
“You do … deliciously. Do I make you happy?”
“You do. Tell me again what you were thinking that afternoon in Finitas when Bhayar summoned you into the governor’s study.”
“I was worried. He told me that I was a problem, that I solved problems he didn’t know he had in ways he wouldn’t even have considered, and that he’d thought long and hard about what he needed to do to keep me in line. I was wondering if he was going to assign me to a post in Midcote or somewhere even more remote, and then he said he’d come up with a solution, and that we’d come to like it. I wasn’t even sure what he meant … until he opened the door and you were standing there. And then you said, so sweetly, that you’d find a way to have my jacket tailored around my splinted arm for the wedding. I was stunned.”
“You looked stunned.”
“Happily stunned,” Quaeryt said. “Now … you tell me what you were thinking. Again. I like hearing it.”
“Brother dear kept telling me the whole long ride to Tilbora that I was proving a terrible challenge to him. He said I was so much of a challenge that he dared not leave me alone with Aelina in Solis. He kept asking why I persisted in writing a penniless scholar. I told him that there was no one else to write who dared return my letters, especially with wit … and that you were proving that he was right to send you to Tilbor. He grumbled that you’d left him no choice, either in sending you or in forcing him to ride to Tilbor. I didn’t quite believe him, but he can be incredibly headstrong … and by the way, you have curbed that, dearest.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he knows that you can stand up to him, and that he can’t bully you.”
“He also knows that I’ll back you.”
“That, too.” Vaelora smiled and kissed Quaeryt’s cheek.
“What were you thinking when he dragged you into the governor’s study?”
“He didn’t do that. He put me in a side study and told me to stay there until he dealt with pressing matters. He even posted one of his personal guards there to make sure. I wasn’t sure whether he was going to force me to tell you never to write me again, or tell you the same. I really didn’t expect what happened.”
“Go on,” said Quaeryt with a grin.
“When he started talking about us … and he never actually said we were to be wed until he’d talked around it for half a quint-”
“It wasn’t that long.”
“It seemed that long. I wanted to stomp on his boots with mine. He couldn’t even admit that we might actually like each other.”
“He does have a strange sense of humor.” Quaeryt grinned again.
“Dearest…”
Quaeryt didn’t let her finish the complaint. Instead, he kissed her.
Later … they had to wash up and dress in a hurry in order to make it down to the family dining chamber in time for dinner with Bhayar.
Even so, Bhayar was waiting outside the archway. “I trust you had a pleasant afternoon.” He smiled. “I am envious.”
“I did suggest you send for Aelina,” said Quaeryt.
“As did I,” added Vaelora.
“I will … after certain matters are resolved.” Bhayar gestured toward the table beyond the archway. “We’re having a Bovarian beef dish, similar to paprikash, but somewhat less fiery, I’m told.”
Once the three were seated, with Bhayar at the head of the table and Quaeryt and Vaelora on each side of him, Bhayar looked to Vaelora. “Red wine?”
“Please.”
“And pale lager?”
“Of course,” replied Quaeryt, “although I’m certain the wine would be excellent as well.”
“It is, but at family dinners, personal taste outweighs protocol.”
The serving girl poured the red wine into Bhayar’s and Vaelora’s goblets, and then filled Quaeryt’s beaker from a separate pitcher. Then she and another server brought in two platters and a covered casserole dish. After that, the servers departed.
Bhayar served Vaelora, and then himself, both the grass rice and the mushroom beef paprika over it, and the early almond beans. Quaeryt served himself.
Bhayar lifted his glass. “A toast to family.”
“To family,” replied Quaeryt and Vaelora.
Then Bhayar lifted his knife. For a time, no one spoke. The beef was mildly seasoned, and far more to Quaeryt’s taste than the fiery Yaran paprikash so often served in Solis and Extela, and the grass rice had been cooked well enough that it was only slightly crunchy. The almond beans were perfect.
After a time, Bhayar set down his utensils, took a swallow of wine, and then said, “There is another reason for this dinner besides enjoying it with family.”
Quaeryt nodded and waited.
“I wouldn’t expect otherwise,” said Vaelora demurely.
“I know you wouldn’t, sister dear.
“I’ve been considering what you both told me yesterday. I also have to confess that the lack of dispatches bothers me greatly. I’m inclined to think that some Bovarians are waylaying dispatch riders in order to disrupt matters … and possibly create mistrust and confusion between Myskyl’s forces and Variana.”
“That is possible,” said Quaeryt evenly. “It would take considerable resources to intercept every single rider over two months. If that is what is happening, that would indicate a group of High Holders or wealthy factors.”
“Precisely,” rejoined Bhayar. “But … there is also the possibility that Myskyl has somehow been made a captive of sorts, either by plotting High Holders or by Kharst’s imagers. I honestly do not see him as a traitor … but I also cannot dismiss that possibility.” Bhayar looked to his sister. “But that is only one possibility.”
“So Quaeryt must look into at least three possibilities, none pleasant.”
“Who else better?” Bhayar raised his eyebrows.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” asked Quaeryt.
“I’d like you to take first company and Subcommander Calkoran’s remaining company and ride north to investigate the situation. I leave to you the matter of imagers. I see no point in dispatching Eleventh Regiment.”
“Because one regiment will make no difference, one way or another?” asked Quaeryt.