Scholar

certain doubt that Bhayar always did so, but he had no doubts whatsoever that what Rescalyn had intended, after rebuilding the “regiment,” would have created far more death and devastation than anyone could have envisioned.

“How much of this is Lord Bhayar and how much is because of you? You never trusted Rescalyn from the first, did you?”

“Let us just say that I worried about his ambitions being greater than were in the interests of Lord Bhayar.”

“How did you know?”

“From his acts, his behavior, and even from the books he read. He wanted to be another Hengyst.”

“You may well be right, but where is the proof?”

“Rescalyn was far too brilliant to leave a written plan, or even footprints. But if one looks at the way he reorganized the regiment without ever letting on to Lord Bhayar actually how many men he had or how every dispatch emphasized in one way or another, never overplayed, the dangers of the hill holders…”

“That kind of proof is thin indeed.”

“And the way in which he used your wife’s safety against you.” Rather than reveal how he knew that, Quaeryt went on, “I suspected that in the way you mentioned family. Then, there was the warning you gave me, telling me to take care at a time when I wasn’t going into battle. More than anything, it was that the sum total of all the little things pointed to one end. He never mentioned in any dispatch the way he’d reorganized the regiment on the company and battalion level. Why did he leave the scholars alone when he knew their ties and links? His excessive efforts to build personal loyalty among the officers and men … his failure to ever mention Lord Bhayar to them … all those things…”

Straesyr shook his head. “You’re a dangerous man, scholar, to deduce so much, so accurately, from such small indicators.”

“What about you?” Quaeryt asked bluntly.

“Me? I’ve been ambitious, the Nameless knows, but I’d be more than pleased to end my days as governor here, not that such is likely now … and my family would be as well. That would never have suited Rescalyn.”

“You don’t know what Lord Bhayar will do. For what it’s worth, my words about you will be favorable.”

Straesyr’s smile was both rueful and wintry.

Quaeryt waited.

“That leaves the matter of what to do with you.”

“My term as your assistant lasts until the end of Finitas.” Not that Quaeryt wanted to stay in Tilbor even that long.

“That’s not exactly true,” replied Straesyr. “The letter from Lord Bhayar said that you were to be released in time to reach Solis before the end of winter. According to the surgeon-I did ask about your condition-you shouldn’t be riding as much as you did. You’ll be here longer than you had hoped. I don’t have to release you by the end of Finitas.”

Quaeryt didn’t answer immediately. Winter in Tilbor? What would Bhayar say? He’d suggested that Quaeryt might as well stay in Tilbor if he didn’t return by the end of winter. But how could Quaeryt even meet that deadline if he didn’t leave before winter truly set in?

Before Quaeryt could speak, Straesyr went on. “I’m going to have to handle both positions. At the very least, scholar, I’ll need assistance, and I expect such, especially in matters dealing with the scholarium.”

After a moment, Quaeryt replied, “I can help there … and with anything else you feel comfortable with me doing.”

“Comfortable?” Straesyr raised his eyebrows. “You’re more than competent, but I can’t say I’m comfortable. As I said a moment ago, you’re a dangerous man.” He paused. “The biggest immediate problem will be all the prisoners Commander Myskyl is marching back. What would you do with them?”

“Apprentice out the youths. Relocate the adults as you can. Foster the orphaned children under five. The scholarium could help there, although they’d need some golds for clothing and food. You might have to offer some silvers for apprentices to begin with.”

“The scholarium would need golds anyway. You had that in mind all along.”

“I did … if I thought the new Master Scholar could make matters work.”

“It appears as though he is … or rather, his scholar princeps is.”

“I thought it might work out that way.”

“A number of matters have worked out the way you thought. A man would be wise to consider your views. Did Rescalyn ever ask you yours?”

“Only when he thought I might agree with him.”

“Did you ever raise questions about his acts or views? To him directly?”

“I hinted that the size of the regiment was large enough for other endeavors after dealing with the hill holders. He avoided dealing with that, and assigned me to Sixth Battalion for the attack on Zorlyn’s holding. Sixth Battalion was always in the fore and was one of the two lead battalions.”

“That is representative of his methods.” Straesyr nodded. “Scholar … there is one other thing.”

“Sir?”

Straesyr’s countenance broke into a smile as he extended an envelope. “This arrived with the last courier.”

As Quaeryt took the envelope, his eyes dropped to the script-Vaelora’s hand. “Thank you, sir.” For reasons he wasn’t certain he wanted to investigate at that moment, the existence of the missive seemed to lift a burden off his shoulders.

Is that because she writes because she wants to?

He looked to Straesyr. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“Not for the moment. We should talk on Lundi morning. You look like you could use some rest. I won’t need any written reports from you. You can just tell me anything you haven’t already then.”

“Thank you, sir.” Quaeryt stood slowly, nodded, and retreated to his study.

Once there, he opened the letter.

My Dearest Scholar Quaeryt-

“My Dearest”? Rhetorical excess? Or does she have dreams … more like delusions … or are the delusions yours? Quaeryt frowned, then swallowed. If she really feels that way … Bhayar would be anything but pleased. Anything but pleased. He took a deep breath before he continued reading.

Your latest missive was most entertaining as well as informative, so much so that I had to share it with members of my family. Unhappily, some were not so amused as was I, but even the sternest acknowledged your perception and wit …

Good … but will that be enough now that your brother has since discovered that he no longer has a “good governor” and undoubtedly superior commander? And that you address me as “Dearest”-or was that a way to assure I got the letter? He hoped so, or he might be marooned in Tilbor forever.

… and the wisdom behind such fascinating observations, although I must, as a mere young woman of no great worldly experience, defer to those with far greater apperception of the world as it is and not as I would have it.

I must also confess that I miss hearing your wit and perceptive comments in person, although in truth, I needs must also acknowledge that such occasions were far fewer in number than I, and I hope you, would otherwise have wished. For, as you know from your observations of the palace and the court, how could matters have been otherwise? Yet, in these times and perhaps in all times, a wise woman, or a young woman who is intelligent enough to seek the counsel of women far wiser and more powerful, must learn to seek where she can the company of minds who are not unsympathetic to her deepest feelings and convictions, be that company in correspondence, in conversation, or more happily otherwise. Wherever that dialogue may occur, it is to be valued and cherished, for even one so sheltered as I have been knows that it is rare indeed in any company, and so do I cherish those words you dispatch to me.

It may be that the news of other happenings has not reached you, in view of your duties and responsibilities, but it appears as if the Autarch of Antiago is tending to forget his most felicitous past relationships with Telaryn and is responding to a courtship of sorts from the Rex of Bovaria.…