“They’ll only be the traitors if they fail,” said Quaeryt, offering a sardonic smile, before taking the smallest sip of the now-warm lager, and then blotting his forehead.
“Why are the marshal and submarshal doing this?” asked Zhelan.
“Because Chayar-Bhayar’s father-died unexpectedly young, and Bhayar became Lord of Telaryn when he was twenty-seven, a mere stripling. I’m guessing that they believe that they could do a better job of ruling.” And they don’t much care for the fact that Bhayar trusts me and my judgment more than them … and the fact that I’m two years younger than Bhayar.
“Do you believe he has been a good ruler?” asked Calkoran.
“I do. He could have done some things better. That’s true of any ruler. It’s easy to see mistakes in hindsight. There are also some things he managed as well as he could, but did not turn out well. His regional governors have often been corrupt and unfair, but until he was forced into war with Bovaria, Bhayar did not have enough troopers to deal effectively with either regional governors or High Holders.”
“Will that not happen again after the wars are over?” pressed Calkoran.
Quaeryt could see a glimmer in the eyes of the older officer, but decided to answer the question. “That will depend on how long he keeps all the troopers under arms, and whether other things happen.”
“Like your Collegium?” asked Zhelan.
“If Bhayar approves all the plans for the Collegium, he will be able to keep the High Holders and governors in line.”
“That is only if you survive to make sure he keeps his word,” said Calkoran.
“Bhayar has always kept his word,” Quaeryt said.
“Perhaps he will, should something happen to you,” rejoined Calkoran, “but he will be a better ruler if nothing befalls you. Khel will not easily accept terms from Bhayar without you at his shoulder.”
“Nor will Lady Vaelora’s influence be as powerful without you,” added Zhelan.
Quaeryt grinned. “I think you two are trying to tell me something.” He laughed, good-humoredly.
After a moment so did the other two.
42
At second glass of the afternoon on Mardi, Quaeryt spied one of the millestones that had become less and less frequent the farther north they had ridden from Variana: VAESTORA-5 M.
“Wasn’t sure we’d see another town,” said Zhelan. “It’s almost like the old borders in the north between Telaryn and Bovaria. Just hamlets, and no real towns.”
“You did say that it was like a different land in the north. Maybe these are the marches or the borderlands.”
“Didn’t you say one of the High Holders said the same thing, sir?”
“Caemren said that the High Holders in the north behaved like Rivages was a different land. That’s true. He also said that because the unifier of Bovaria came from Rivages, they felt special.” And from what I’ve seen, people who think they’re innately special are dangerous. Quaeryt looked northward along the road, but nothing ahead looked any different from the cots and fields and woodlots they’d been riding past for the past three days.
More than a glass passed before Quaeryt caught sight of what he thought might be the outskirts of Vaestora. The first thing that struck him was that, at the clear boundary of the town, there was a street set at right angles to the river road, with the streets beyond, all paved in brick, laid out in a gridlike pattern, forming square blocks. The dwellings and shop were modest, but all had walls of either rough-cut native stone or brick, if not both, with roofs he had thought were dull slate. As he drew closer, he saw they were of a flat dark gray tile.
The second striking fact was that the river road led straight to a raised circular hill whose crest had been flattened, possibly centuries ago, on which stood a large walled keep, dominated by a tall square tower that rose behind the eastern walls. Quaeryt realized that Caemren definitely had not overstated matters when he’d told Quaeryt that Seliadyn’s holding was in the middle of Vaestora. Both the hold and its rough-finished stone walls had to be ancient, and the town had clearly grown up around it, suggesting to Quaeryt that Seliadyn’s lineage was long-standing-or that he or his forbears had taken over the holding from an ancient lineage.
When Quaeryt neared the edge of the square just below the open gates in the hold walls, he could also see that those walls enclosed a space larger than the town itself, although, properly speaking, Vaestora looked to be the size of a large hamlet. Yet he’d never seen a hamlet with paved streets. Nor had he seen a high holding or a keep with such a large tower, especially one that so dominated the dwellings over which it looked.
Various shops lined the north and south sides of the open paved square. The west side was bordered by the grassy slope leading up to the walls, with the paved road to the gate leading from the middle of the western edge of the square. On the eastern end of the square was a small inn that had no signboard or indicator of what it might be called.
As Quaeryt entered the square, he caught sight of a pump and a watering trough in the northwest corner. “Water the horses here in the square, and have the men stand down. Given the smallness of the inn, I may see about prevailing upon Seliadyn’s hospitality.”
“If he has any.”
“That’s a possibility as well,” replied Quaeryt. “But I might as well see. The mounts need water in any case.”
While Zhelan and Calkoran arranged for the watering, Quaeryt and three rankers from first company rode from the square up the slight slope of the stone-paved road to the open gates. At first glance, the gates looked to be a formality, attached to the front of the walls, and barely blocking the opening. But the walls on each side and above the gates rose almost ten yards, and Quaeryt could see two sets of ironbound doors and the stone slots into which they could be moved. In the middle of the five yards between the war gates he could see the bottom of an iron portcullis.
Very interesting. Quaeryt nodded.
Just inside the very thick walls was a guardhouse, and standing in the shades of the overhanging roof were two guards in yellow and black uniforms. Quaeryt reined up short of them.
“Yes, sir?” inquired the taller guard.
“I’m Commander Quaeryt. I’ve been sent by Lord Bhayar to see High Holder Seliadyn.”
The guard nodded. “If you’ll follow Hiern, here, he’ll show you the way.”
“This way, sir!” offered the younger and shorter guard enthusiastically. “You can tie your horse right outside the tower.” He turned and hurried at a fast walk back toward the square tower, set some fifty yards directly behind the gates.
Quaeryt followed, noting that the entire space inside the east wall of the keep was paved, running from the north wall to the south wall, a distance of some four hundred yards. While many of the stone paving squares were clearly ancient, others were replacements, creating an intermittent pattern of lighter and darker squares. The pavement extended perhaps ten yards west of the rear of the tower, a structure fifty yards on a side. Farther to the east, there appeared to be several large outbuildings, one of which looked to be a stable and another a barracks, although all the windows and doors were covered with shutters.
Following the guard, holding full shields, Quaeryt looked up at the tower, counting the levels, using the windows as a guide. From what he could tell, there were at least eight levels, but it appeared that the lowest level-the one set at ground level-had no windows at all, and the second level offered only intermittent embrasures.
The guard stopped at the bottom of a stone staircase perhaps three yards wide that led up to the second level and a set of double doors. Quaeryt had the definite feeling that the staircase had been added later-much later. On each side of the steps were bronze hitching rails, and a long mounting block was set out from the bottommost step.