“I will send word to you, Captain, when the scholar is ready to depart.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt walked to the steps, stopped at the bottom, and inclined his head. “High Holder.”
“Fhaedyrk, if you please. And you are Quaeryt? Fitting name for a scholar. Come.”
Quaeryt joined the wiry holder who had appeared shorter than the scholar but turned out to be the same height as they walked through the wide single door of the mansion into a smallish oblong entry foyer, with two staircases, one heading up to the east and one to the west, and then straight back into a modest hallway floored with cut and polished natural stones set in mortar, with a green bordered dark gray carpet runner in the middle.
“I trust you do not mind if my wife joins us for a light meal.”
“I’d be delighted.” Quaeryt didn’t have to counterfeit his pleasure; he had no doubts that Fhaedyrk’s wife was most likely to be as intelligent and perceptive as the High Holder, or she would not have been included.
The High Holder stopped at the last door on the right-already open-and gestured. “This is the summer parlor-that’s what Laekyna calls it.” He extended an arm to the slightly stocky blond woman standing beside the circular table located in a windowed nook and set for three. “Don’t you, dear?”
Laekyna smiled, and her entire face came alive. For some reason, although the two looked not at all alike, for that moment, the High Holder’s wife reminded Quaeryt of Vaelora. “He does make fun of me, master scholar, but it is the most pleasant room in the summer.”
“Any room is pleasant with you in it, dear.”
Quaeryt could not miss the obvious affection in word and expression, and it cheered him, even as he warned himself that a man could love his wife and still be a foe not to be trusted.
Fhaedyrk gestured to the table. “We took the liberty of preparing some light fare for you, knowing how far you have ridden.” He seated himself in the middle place, and Laekyna was already standing before the place to his right.
Quaeryt took the chair to the High Holder’s left and sat down. “You’re very kind.”
“It was kind of the princeps and governor to send you. Few wish to travel far from Tilbora. I thought we might begin with a cool potato soup.”
As Fhaedyrk spoke, a server appeared with a dish and a ladle and began to fill the bowls, set on green porcelain chargers. A second server appeared and placed dark rolls on the small plates beside the chargers.
“The rolls are sweet dark rolls with honeyed raisins. The raisins come from our lower vineyards. I can offer lager, white or red wine, or grape or berry juice.”
“What would you recommend?”
“I’m actually going to have lager.”
“Fhaedyrk’s lager is the best in Tilbor,” added Laekyna.
“Then I’ll have the lager.”
After one swallow, Quaeryt agreed. “It’s not just the best lager in Tilbor; it’s the best I’ve had anywhere.”
“You see, dearest,” said Laekyna. “I told you so.”
Just from what was clearly the first course, Quaeryt would not have considered the fare “light” by any means, but suspected the time and terminology had been set for reasons of custom. If asked by other High Holders, Fhaedyrk could say, with perfect honesty, that he had met with Quaeryt in midafternoon and offered light refreshments to the assistant to the princeps, as was only courtesy after such a long ride.
“How was the ride?”
“Pleasant as four-glass rides go. Most of the time, there was a breeze, and that helped.”
“Except in the winter,” commented Fhaedyrk wryly. “It’s usually a gale then.”
“Are your winters here as bitter as in the north?”
“They’re often more bitter, or so we’re told,” replied Laekyna. “It has to do with the way the hills channel the winds.”
Quaeryt sensed that the meal was for light conversation and held the questions he had in mind. The main course was a meat pie, but the crust was so flaky and the sauce so light that it didn’t feel heavy at all.
“You must try the berry custard-it’s Laekyna’s special recipe.”
“My aunt’s actually.”
“This is your version, and it’s better.”
Quaeryt needed no urging. When he finished the last tasty spoonful of the custard, he turned to Laekyna. “That was excellent. I’ve never tasted better.”
Laekyna smiled, and blushed slightly. “Thank you.”
“I told you,” added Fhaedyrk proudly. After the slightest pause, he said, “I had not thought to find the assistant to the princeps to be a scholar.”
Quaeryt understood. He also saw that Laekyna was studying him as well.
“I’m from Solis, sir, and I was raised and educated there, but Lord Bhayar sent me here.”
“Might I ask why?”
“He expressed concerns about the number of soldiers it takes to keep order. I made the mistake of asking if the people of Tilbor were so different that they needed more order imposed by arms … or words to that effect. He said that I asked too many questions and sent me off.”
Both listeners smiled.
“What have you discovered?”
“From what I’ve seen, except for the hill holders, the people and High Holders of Tilbor are a most orderly group that want to get on with their own lives.” Quaeryt paused slightly. “Recently, it’s come to my attention that some of the scholars may not be what they claim. What is your opinion on that?”
“I would scarcely be in a position to judge that.”
“I can understand your reticence to comment, sir, especially given your … shall we say … strained relations with the scholars at the Ecoliae…”
“So far as I know, I have no relations with them.” Fhaedyrk’s voice turned cool.
Laekyna continued to hold a pleasant expression.
“Exactly.” Quaeryt smiled. “Nor would anyone in your position, especially, wish to have any relations with them.”
“My position?”
“Governor Fhayt was ambushed and nearly killed coming to visit you. The local scholars have attempted to have you killed at least once, and possibly more often.”
“You have quite an imagination, especially for a scholar.”
“Do I?” Quaeryt smiled again. “You also seemed to be one of the few High Holders who actually dared to put into writing in letters to Khanar Eleonyd reasonable observations about the source of Tilbor’s prosperity. You’re a very far-seeing and practical man. That’s one of the many reasons I requested a meeting with you.”
“How did you know about my letters, might I ask?”
“I read through the Khanars’ archives of the past several years when I first came to Tilbor. It took some time.”
“All of them?” asked Laekyna.
“I do not know what was not in the archives. There was an entire chamber. I read all that was there.”
Fhaedyrk laughed. “I doubt Khanar Eleonyd read a fraction of what you did.”
“Then did Khanara Tyrena?”
“I’m sure that she did,” said Laekyna. “Her father, despite all the rumors, relied on her heavily.”
Fhaedyrk and his wife exchanged a momentary glance.
“You have traveled a great way, master scholar. Why? Surely not merely to meet me.”
“Because you are a far-seeing and practical man, I wanted your thoughts on a matter.”
“Oh? Even the governor has not so openly sought my thoughts.”
“I’m not the governor. I’m just a scholar assistant to the princeps attempting to find ways to make Tilbor even more peaceful.”
“How might I have anything to do with that?”
Quaeryt decided, for the moment, to ignore the direct thrust of the question. “Let us assume, for the
