Scholar

declared rebels. If he does not so swear, then he will suffer the fate of the deceased rebel holders … as will any holder who does not do so.”

“Do you expect him to do so?”

“What do you think, scholar?”

“I have my doubts, sir.”

“So do I, but, by making the offer, I appear reasonable.”

“You also show the High Holders that, if tariffs need to rise, you will back such increases with force.”

“That, too,” replied Rescalyn with a smile. “Oh … I expect another homily tonight … and would you convey to Undercaptain Gauswn that his services will also be required? You can use the large wintering barn.”

Quaeryt had expected that “request.” He only had been surprised that Rescalyn hadn’t begun with it. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s all, scholar.”

Quaeryt nodded and departed.

When he returned to the barn, Gauswn was waiting for him.

“Sir … are we-”

“Yes, the governor has requested that we conduct services tonight in the large wintering barn. It appears we’ll be here for several days. If you’ll excuse me for a few moments, I need to report to Major Skarpa.”

“He’s at the north end, sir.”

“Thank you.” Quaeryt walked to the far end of the barn.

Skarpa turned from the senior squad leader with whom he had been talking. “Scholar.”

“Major … I just returned from talking with the governor. He asked that Gauswn and I perform the services tonight-in the large wintering barn. He also said that he’d sent a message to Holder Zorlyn, suggesting the holders acknowledge the primacy of Telaryn and its lord. He is awaiting a reply.”

“I hadn’t heard that, but he has called for an all-officers’ meeting in a glass. We’ll be here for several days, then. At least two more. Thank you.”

“I thought you should know, if you didn’t already.”

“I appreciate it.”

Quaeryt headed back to find Gauswn and discuss the service. He also needed to find another “appropriate” topic for his homily.

A glass later, he was sitting on a post in the corner of the barn, below the hayloft, thinking … and murmuring ideas to himself.

“Youth and strength as Naming … no … Cyrethyn mentioned that. Who is better remembered-Caldor, Hengyst, or Rholan? No … that suggests that rulers aren’t to be trusted as much as followers of the Nameless … Rholan … the creation of a legend…”

He paused. What about the idea that creating a legend is a form of cultural Naming … that legends effectively destroy truth … and why is it that most great men so wish to be a legend in their own time?

Quaeryt smiled. He could do something with that idea … something that he could directly tie in to the acts and behaviors of the hill holders … while suggesting that form of Naming existed in great and powerful men of accomplishment everywhere … and that sometimes, only the intervention of the Nameless prevented even greater disasters. He wouldn’t mention that powerful men often claimed that the Nameless had made their excesses, which they regarded as triumphs, possible.

88

Quaeryt’s homily was well-received on Solayi night, and Rescalyn had seemed pleased, even with the words about the intervention of the Nameless to prevent complete disasters. Lundi morning was warmer. The wind had died down, and Quaeryt managed to wash the worst of the mud and blood off the one set of his trousers and tunics and hang them up in the barn, hoping that they would dry before the regiment moved on-whether against Zorlyn or back to Boralieu.

He did spend some time, when he retreated to a quiet corner of the loft, studying the quarrel he had retrieved days earlier, and practicing some different types of imaging, beginning with imaging shafts of straw into barn beams, so that they protruded. Even if someone had been watching, it would have been highly unlikely that they would have seen a straw seemingly appear stuck to the ancient wood, not in the middle of a hayloft.

After that, he checked the mare, thought, talked about matters with Meinyt, and fretted.

Just before supper on Lundi evening, Skarpa appeared in the barn holding Sixth Battalion. “The governor’s called an officers’ meeting.” His eyes went to Quaeryt. “That includes you, scholar.”

Quaeryt inclined his head.

“I don’t think it’s good,” added the major.

“I wouldn’t expect so. The hill holders have regarded themselves as beyond anyone’s law but their own for far too many years.”

“Why did he even send a message, then?”

“So that, after we’ve destroyed Zorlyn and a few more holders totally, he can make an offer again for those few remaining.”

“They could just abandon their holds and wait him out,” pointed out Skarpa.

“Do you really think so? You’ve told me how hard the winters are. Second, no one’s ever succeeded in carrying this kind of war to them before. They don’t really believe it can be done. They’ve been too isolated, and they’ve never dealt with someone who has the skill, determination, and the number of trained troops that the governor has. Even so, he’s just starting the destruction. He’s counting on the winter to largely finish it.”

Skarpa nodded slowly. “I need to tell the other officers. We’re to meet immediately.”

“I’ll come with you, then.”

The two walked toward Gauswn, some twenty yards away, standing back from the east doorway.

Quaeryt said nothing more as Skarpa gathered his officers, and they all walked to the meeting-in the same chamber where Rescalyn had received Quaeryt the day before. Once all the officers had appeared, the governor entered the room. He wasted little time on greetings of formalities.

“As I reported to all of you yesterday,” he began, his voice shorn of the heartiness it so often possessed, “I sent a courier with escorts to Holder Zorlyn. My message offered an amnesty for those hill holders who had not taken up arms against Telaryn, provided they swore allegiance to Telaryn and its lord and provided that they paid tariffs equal to the rates of other High Holders, with an addition of two parts in ten for the next several years.” Rescalyn paused, then went on. “We received a reply less than a glass ago. The courier and his escorts were returned … and released three milles from here. When they reached our camp, two escorts were dead, strapped to their mounts; two were alive but wounded; and the courier was alive-but with a letter pinned to his chest with a knife.…”

Quaeryt felt like wincing. The idiots … the absolute, boar-headed insufferable egotistical sow- slutted … They’re playing the plaques exactly as he had planned they would. And yet, there was no real proof, only his suspicions. Was he justified in planning what he did with only what he knew and sensed? And yet, waiting too long would create another problem.

“I will read you the letter,” said Rescalyn, coldly. He cleared his throat.

“To the one called governor-

“The message you sent is an insult to Tilbor. It is also an insult to any self-respecting Tilboran, let alone to a holder whose lands have remained self-governing in his family for generation upon generation. Not even the most absolute of the Khanars ever insisted upon such outrageous tariffing. Nor did they bring in foreign scholars to change the way those who received their education at the Ecoliae were taught. Nor did they elevate mere crafters and merchants to the levels of those who have stewarded their lands wisely for all these many generations. After such acts, then for you to attempt to destroy all those who stand up for their time-honored rights and traditions is an even greater outrage, and one for which you and every man in your regiment will perish.