warmth and understanding in his tone, or the amused smile with which Rescalyn had finished his statement. “He did express concern.”
“Of course he did. Any ruler with brains would be concerned, and I’m glad to see that he is. I’ll be more than happy to make sure that you see and understand fully the problems we’re facing here, and I’ve already conveyed to the princeps that you’re to be given every opportunity to verify anything he or I may tell you-or to find, if you can, anything that contradicts what we may say. I doubt that you’ll find anything contrary to what we’ve reported to Lord Bhayar, but I can definitely understand why he needs to know. The best place to start would be the dispatch files, and when you leave here, I’ll have Undercaptain Caermyt take you there.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I understand you’ve been studying in the Khanar’s library and the archives of the khanarate. What do you think so far?”
“If the archives represent what happened, it appears that Tilbor was relatively well-governed until the last years, and then all internal organization in the palace suffered.”
“You’re being careful in a scholarly way. When Eleonyd sickened, everything collapsed. That was always the problem with the khanarate. It all rested on the organization and personal strength of the Khanar. If he was strong and disciplined, so was Tilbor. If not … well … you can see what happened. That’s always a problem in governing. If there’s not enough structure, and the leadership is weak, the land falls. If there’s too much structure, no matter what kind of leadership there is, the land is far weaker than it should be.” Another smile followed. “What did you think of the library?”
“I thought it most impressive, frankly.”
“So do I. I’ve read several fascinating books from there … when I’ve had time away from my duties.”
“Is there one you’d recommend?”
“The library has so many excellent volumes that I’d be doing it and you a disservice to pick any one out … although I will say that there are some outstanding works I’ve never seen before in among the volumes on history and tactics.” A more serious expression appeared. “What arrangements have you made for informing Lord Bhayar of your progress and findings?”
“I had thought that presumptuous until I was here.”
“So it would have been.” Rescalyn nodded. “I would suggest you send a report with the regimental courier who leaves for Solis every Vendrei morning at seventh glass. I don’t want to see your report, only that you make one, and I’ll go even farther. You can hand that sealed report to him just before he leaves the palace.”
“I’d be happy to-”
“Nonsense. That’s your report to your lord. There is one other recommendation I would offer. It’s up to you, of course, but I would suggest that you accompany patrols through various areas of Tilbor and see matters for yourself.”
“That’s very kind of you, sir, and I would like very much to do that. I’d also like to hear what you have to say. Lord Bhayar was most complimentary about your abilities and perception.”
“I’m not kind. Just practical.” Rescalyn paused. “I will certainly let you know what I think, but I will defer doing so until you have read the dispatches and seen more of Tilbor with regimental patrols. I’d like you to come to some conclusions before I say much.”
Quaeryt couldn’t argue with that logic, even as he respected the way in which the governor had maneuvered matters. He also had to ask himself why there was something about the governor that bothered him. Rescalyn had been open and polite and direct, and certainly pleasant. He also hadn’t mentioned the local scholars, and that suggested, again, that Quaeryt proceed carefully in dealing with that area.
Rescalyn stood. “It’s good to meet you, and I’m glad to see that Lord Bhayar shares my concerns about the unsettled nature of the hill country and backwoods here. Caermyt will show you the dispatch room.”
“Thank you, sir.” Quaeryt inclined his head in respect, then turned and left the study.
The undercaptain was on his feet well before the scholar closed the door to the governor’s study. “This way, sir.”
As he followed Undercaptain Caermyt down the main staircase, Quaeryt thought about the governor’s not- so-veiled order that he needed to accompany Telaryn soldiers into situations that might be dangerous. He couldn’t help but wonder why imagers couldn’t do more … or what they-or he-could do if he were caught in a battle situation. He decided that the lesser danger might be to do a little more in trying to expand his imaging abilities.
At the bottom of the staircase, the undercaptain turned back east along the main-floor center hallway, but only for about ten yards before he produced a key and unlocked the door. Then he handed the key to Quaeryt. “If you would lock the door and return the key to me whenever you’re not here, sir, the governor would appreciate it.”
“I’ll certainly do so, and thank you.”
“My pleasure, sir.” Caermyt turned and walked quickly back toward the main staircase.
Quaeryt stepped into the room, lit, as was the library, by thin high windows on the outer wall, and closed the door behind him. There were rows and rows of neatly stacked boxes, and a single wide table desk next to the inside wall almost beside the door. A bracket held a pair of lamps, positioned over the desk. Neither was lit, but a striker was set in a holder on the otherwise bare wooden surface.
Almost ten years of dispatches-and where was he supposed to begin?
Quaeryt shook his head and moved toward the last box, the one with the top beside it, rather than covering it. That was as good a place to start as any.
40
Quaeryt spent the rest of Mardi in the dispatch room, with various breaks, until time for the evening meal. While he talked occasionally, he mostly listened through the meal and for a time thereafter, before taking a walk through the gardens and retiring to his quarters.
After a good night’s sleep and an early breakfast, he appeared in the study assigned to him on Meredi morning, then retrieved the key from Undercaptain Caermyt and made his way back down to peruse more dispatches. The previous day, he had read the dispatches for most of the past year. While some of the details certainly supported what the governor and the various officers had revealed, he had learned little that was new, only gained more information that shed little light on why matters were as they appeared to be.
After what he had already read, he turned his attention to those from the first months after Lord Chayar had taken the palace-and found there were none. The first dispatches in the files began some four months after the fall of Tilbor, and they were from Governor Fhayt to Lord Chayar. The tone of Fhayt’s dispatches was markedly different from that of the later ones sent by Rescalyn. That Quaeryt could see almost from the first. He paused, then read several lines from one sent by Fhayt.
… the northern High Holders complain ceaselessly. They want the port of Noira rebuilt in stone. They want a coastal road from Midcote to Noira … The High Holders of the south are more polite. They ask me to consider how a new paved stone road from the river piers will lead to greater tariff collections. They want more. They say it better …
Quaeryt walked over to one of the first boxes he’d gone through and pulled out a dispatch from Rescalyn, almost at random, reading it in turn.
… tariff collection patrol south of the Boran Hills was attacked, but only one man was wounded. Three brigands were killed, and one captured, but he offered no useful information … now have three farriers trained, which will reduce costs of re-shoeing the cavalry mounts …
He nodded and replaced Rescalyn’s dispatch, then went back to reading the ones from Fhayt.
After reading through several months of dispatches, Quaeryt realized something-Fhayt had never mentioned timber holders or backwoods barons or the like. At times, he referred to attacks or incidents near or in the hills, but he never made any attributions as to who or what might be behind them.
By ninth glass, Quaeryt needed a break. He rose, snuffed the twin lamps, and then left the dispatch chamber, locking it behind him. He walked down the long main-level corridor until he reached the library, where
