Scholar

think…?”

“There’s always a possibility. It’s probably small, but since you wished me to remain within the palace until after the governor’s return, I thought it couldn’t do any harm.” Quaeryt offered a smile. “And scholars are supposed to dig into old books and records.…”

“Ah … quite so.”

“That’s all I can think of for now, sir.” Quaeryt waited.

“There is one other matter. You will need a study here in the palace … for those times when you are not actively pursuing your tasks or need a place to write where I or the governor can conveniently find you. There is a small vacant chamber three doors to the right as you go out of the anteroom. It is little larger than a small storeroom, but it is suitably appointed and has a window. I expect you to be there at seventh glass from Lundi through Samedi unless you have previously informed me otherwise. I also expect brief written reports weekly, to be on my desk on Lundi morning … again, unless you are traveling or otherwise occupied.”

“Yes, sir. There may be certain matters not best put in ink.…”

“Then just write in the report that you need time to brief me on a matter relating to your duties.”

“Yes, sir.”

Straesyr smiled wryly. “I had always heard that some seamen were almost as disciplined as soldiers, and I’m pleased to see that you appear able to fit into the regiment. I do hope you will not disappoint the governor and me in that regard.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s all I have. Vhorym will show you your study.”

“Thank you.”

Straesyr nodded a dismissal, and Quaeryt stood, inclining his head before turning and leaving.

The aide who had been seated at the table desk in the anteroom rose. “Sir … the princeps asked me to show you your study.” He handed the scholar a brass key.

“I’d appreciate that. You’re Vhorym?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I assume I give my weekly reports to you so that you can put them on the princeps’s desk?”

“Yes, sir. I do that for the officers who report to the princeps.”

After only a day at the Telaryn Palace, Quaeryt found himself thoroughly reminded just why he’d left the sea and returned to the scholars.

The study to which Vhorym guided Quaeryt was paneled in polished oak. Even the inside shutters were of oiled and polished oak, as was the writing desk, with clean lines and none of the carved ornamentation that distinguished the desk used by the princeps.

Once Vhorym had left, Quaeryt walked to the window and opened the shutters, allowing light to flood into the chamber. Then he sat down before the desk, thinking.

Among other matters, Straesyr’s point about Quaeryt’s eventually being a target concerned the scholar. He’d always been able to fade into the background with his concealment shields, but, as he’d discovered in dealing with Chardyn, there were times when concealment wasn’t enough, and he had the feeling that he would encounter more of those situations in Tilbor, possibly many more. There would also be times when too many people would be watching him for him to appear to vanish. After he’d almost died trying to image gold, he’d become wary of trying to discover new imaging skills, only working to develop those he’d read or seen were possible. There were tales of great feats of imaging, but Quaeryt had more than a few doubts about the veracity of such stories. Yet, for all those doubts, he was plagued by the feeling that he might be too cautious.

Then, too, he’d have to sort out how much of the truth lay in the princeps’s version of events, as compared to Chardyn’s version, or Sarastyn’s, and whether any of them were particularly close to what happened … if he even could.

36

In the end, Quaeryt decided he’d begin with the Khanar’s library. The young-looking squad leader at the table by the door took a quick glance at Quaeryt, then said, “You know you can’t remove any books from the chambers, sir?”

“The princeps made that clear, Squad Leader. I’m likely to be here a while.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt nodded, then turned and studied the library. He and the squad leader were the only ones in the library. The door through which he had entered accessed the center chamber of three. At each end of the main chamber was an archway some three yards wide leading into the adjoining room. In the middle of the center chamber, not four yards from him, was a large oval ceramic stove with a freestanding stone chimney. On each end of the stove were open wood bins, half-filled. A series of dark brown leather armchairs were spaced in the middle of the chamber, all facing toward the wall that held the entry door.

Built-in dark wooden bookcases lined every wall and rose from roughly knee level to about two and a half yards above the floor, clearly designed so that most men could reach any volume without resorting to a ladder or a stool. Above the shelves on the wall beyond the stove were windows, each one less than two spans high, but almost a yard wide. Except for two windows, each a third of the way from the walls holding the archways into the other two rooms, the glass was set in frames that did not allow them to be open, and Quaeryt could not see through them. That was because, he realized, there was another pane of glass set perhaps half a handspan behind the first, again except for the two windows that could be opened.

For a moment, he wondered at the arrangement, before realizing it was to allow more light into the library while minimizing draft through the windows by double-glazing all but two.

He began by studying each shelf, taking out a few books and leafing through them to see if they were shelved in a particular order. Each shelf was comparatively short, roughly two-thirds of a yard long. The first section of shelves all held books, largely slender, dealing with mathematics and measurements. So did the second section The third section dealt with medical matters, as did the fourth, while the fifth held tomes on herbs and their uses.

It took Quaeryt more than two glasses to complete his initial survey of the library, after which he sat down in one of the comfortable dark brown leather armchairs to think and rest his eyes. The history section comprised three sets of shelves, as did volumes on military tactics and statecraft, and there was one section on philosophy, and another on religion. There were almost three sets of shelves holding verse, but only a single set of shelves held plays and works of drama, but two sets of shelves held folders of music. A great many of those books had been read, some very well read.

What does that tell you about the Khanars?

If the books in the library were any indication, they-or some in the palace-were far more knowledgeable than either Bhayar or Chayar, not that such knowledge had availed them in the end.

Quaeryt decided to look more closely through the shelves on history and tactics. The leather bindings of several of the books on the topmost shelf were worn and close to splitting in places. He took down one and opened it to the title page-Meditations on the Art of Warfare. The author was a Mhoral Chardynsyn, Commander, Guard of the Khanar. The date was 614 E.K., and that meant nothing to Quaeryt. He leafed through the introduction, smiling as his eyes tracked one phrase.

… any commander must bear in mind that the greatest possibility of failure of execution always lies in the officers, for well-trained men and mounts seldom betray their training …

He replaced the book and kept looking, immediately passing on Basics of Foot Strategy and Pike and Blade Tactics. The next volume was thin and entitled Course of Instruction in Fortifications. Eventually, close to a glass later, he came to an older but well-thumbed volume-Considerations Behind the Strategy of War. He almost passed on it, except … there was the slightest gap in pages, and he opened the volume there to find a piece of notepaper and a passage that had been lightly bracketed with some sort of markstick.…

… while a ruler’s force of arms must always be superior to those of his holders, use of force should always