“Do you think it will?” countered Bhayar.
“No, but I’ll agree to that only if you issue orders that Eleventh Regiment reports only to you or me, and not to Deucalon.” Quaeryt paused. “Or to the Minister of Administration and Supply for Bovaria.”
Bhayar shook his head ruefully. “I think that’s unnecessary, but if it will make you feel better, I’ll issue that order.”
“In writing, so that I can give a copy to Subcommander Khaern before we leave.”
Bhayar nodded.
“We’ll leave on Meredi morning, if that’s agreeable.”
“Good.” Bhayar paused and took a sip from his goblet. “I don’t like this … I have to tell you. I’ve sent messengers with instructions twice in the last six weeks … and I’ve heard nothing.”
Quaeryt refrained from commenting, only acknowledging that he had heard Bhayar’s words with a nod and an attentive expression.
“I’ve also considered what you heard from the widow of High Holder Ryel … do you think her report is accurate?”
“I fear that it is very accurate,” replied Quaeryt.
“As do I,” added Vaelora. “I talked to her privately for a time as well.”
“Well,” Bhayar said almost ruefully, if with a touch of humor in his voice, “you did say that holding Bovaria would be difficult.”
“I did,” admitted Quaeryt, “but I would that I’d been wrong.” And I didn’t expect Myskyl and Deucalon to play matters out in quite this fashion.
“I won’t give you instructions, because you’ll do what you will in any case. Just do what you think is best.”
Haven’t I always? “I do have one request, though.”
“Oh?”
“It would be most helpful if you avoid talking to Deucalon about anything before Meredi, but especially about what the imagers and I will be doing.”
“You think that’s necessary?”
“I don’t know. If there’s some collusion between the two, the delay could make a difference. If there’s no collusion, the delay won’t matter.”
Bhayar nodded. “I can see that. But won’t he see what you’re doing?”
“Someone will see two companies going in two different directions, but not Eleventh Regiment, and neither will head north immediately.”
“I’ll take care not to say anything.” Bhayar’s tone was resigned.
“Thank you. I’ll do my best on this, and I’m certain Vaelora can handle the ministry in my absence.”
“She can, but some might not be too pleased.”
Such as Deucalon. “They won’t say anything,” replied Quaeryt, “not to you.”
“Now that we covered that,” Bhayar said, “I’d like Vaelora’s thoughts on how the grounds you and the imagers re-shaped might be planted, and what sort of gardens might be appropriate.”
“I would think that you might wish a stone promenade down from the carriage waiting area to the circular road, with narrow gardens on each side…”
Quaeryt was happy to listen as the two discussed the grounds. He had his own ideas for Imagisle, and he doubted Bhayar even cared, so long as the Chateau Regis was to his and Aelina’s tastes.
Later, after a dessert consisting of cherry tarts, the three rose, and Bhayar made his way to the rear staircase that led directly to his study.
“I don’t like the idea of your not having Eleventh Regiment,” said Vaelora as she and Quaeryt walked up the grand staircase toward their quarters.
“If this is a Bovarian plot, I certainly don’t need a full regiment.”
“Do you really think that?”
“I think it’s the least likely possibility, but sometimes it is the least likely possibilities that are what has happened … as we discussed earlier this afternoon.” Quaeryt grinned at his wife.
“You don’t believe that Bovarians are behind this, do you?”
“I don’t know who or what is, but if Myskyl’s in full revolt against Bhayar, one regiment won’t make a difference, not when he has six, and I can trust Khaern to protect you and the remaining imagers. Besides, if there is a revolt or plot, I’ll have to figure out how to deal with it without destroying Bhayar’s own regiments. Otherwise, everything will fall apart in any case.”
“Why can’t people be loyal?” Vaelora shook her head. “I know. They all think they can do a better job.”
“Sometimes they might be able to,” said Quaeryt, thinking of Rescalyn, “but usually they never think of the costs to others caused by their efforts to gain the power to do what they think is best. That’s why trying to overthrow a decent ruler because you think you can do a better job often leads to a far worse situation … even if you succeed in toppling the ruler. And nothing works very well for months or years. Look at the mess we had in Extela and how much remains to be done here.”
“You think Bhayar is only decent?”
“He’s better than that, but he’s not outstanding yet, and he won’t be until he learns more and consolidates his power. Deucalon might be a bit better as an administrator, but he doesn’t really know when to take risks. Myskyl would be worse, and he doesn’t know it, but he’s a very able schemer, the type of man able to undermine anyone, but not all that good as a leader. He’s been fortunate because he’s always had a capable superior officer and good subordinates.”
“And what about you, dearest?”
“I’m decent, maybe a bit better with small groups, and I’ve had very good subordinates. I’m very good at getting distasteful but necessary tasks done for a ruler. I’d make a good maître of the Collegium.”
“I think you’re better than you think.”
“Even if I happen to be, no one-not High Holders, not factors, and not most of the people-would ever want a known imager to be the head of anything except other imagers. But no one except a strong imager can hold a group of imagers together. My experiences with the ones I command have made that very clear.”
“Let us hope that events unfold in a way that allows your expectations, dearest.”
“They won’t.” Quaeryt laughed softly. “Whatever may be occurring with Myskyl won’t unfold the way we wish without a great deal more effort. I know that, and so, I suspect, do you.”
“One can hope.”
“One can always hope, but hope without great effort is usually fruitless.”
Vaelora reached out and took his hand as they reached the top of the grand staircase, squeezing it gently.
32
Quaeryt was at the headquarters holding before seventh glass on Lundi morning, meeting with Khaern, Calkoran, and Zhelan in the small study that had become his.
“Matters aren’t looking good, sir?” asked Calkoran in his accented Bovarian, if with a knowing smile.
Quaeryt smiled back. “Why do you say that?”
“You’re here earlier than in weeks.”
“As a matter of fact, there may be some problems.” Quaeryt paused. “I’m going to ask the three of you not to mention a word of what I’m about to say to anyone else, and I do mean anyone. Nor are you to discuss it with each other unless you are absolutely certain that no one can overhear anything you may say. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” All three spoke as one.
“As you know, Submarshal Myskyl was dispatched to the north of Bovaria last fall. He sent dispatches reporting on his progress in meeting with High Holders until the beginning of winter. Lord Bhayar has received no dispatches since then. He has sent dispatches and couriers north, but they have not returned. Nor has he received any couriers sent from the north. Yet we have good information that Submarshal Myskyl is headquartered at a high holding near Rivages, and that his regiments are there as well, and that they conduct maneuvers on a regular basis. Lord Bhayar has ordered first company and your company, Subcommander Calkoran, to accompany me and whatever imagers I choose on a mission to investigate these circumstances. We are to leave tomorrow morning. I will provide the order and direction of riding tomorrow morning.”
“Not Eleventh Regiment, sir?” asked Khaern.