They’d just started the first of the year.”
“Can you gather them all together? Those who want to continue with the patrol. Here on Meredi morning at eighth glass?”
“We’ve not been paid … sir.”
Quaeryt looked hard at the patroller. “I’ve ridden here straight from Tilbor, and I haven’t been paid, either. Not in almost two months.…” That was a slight exaggeration, but Quaeryt didn’t like starting on the note Jaramyr was voicing. “There aren’t any records left anywhere-unless you have some.”
“Chelsyr has a duty book, sir.”
“Does that have a roster in it?”
“No, sir. Almost as good, though. It has every duty assignment from the first of the year to the time the mountain blew.”
“Why didn’t you keep patrolling?”
“We did … for the first three weeks, sir. But lots of us have families … The regimental commander left, and the post commander wouldn’t see us. He said we’d have to wait for the new governor…”
Quaeryt could believe that. He managed not to sigh. “Have everyone here on Meredi morning. If you and the other firsts want to work on everyone getting paid sooner, meet me at the post at eighth glass tomorrow morning … with the duty book and any other records you’ve managed to save. We’ll start straightening matters out then.” Quaeryt image-projected both assurance and authority, although he didn’t like relying on that as much as he was fearing he would have to.
The burly patroller seemed to shrink back, although he did not physically move. “Yes, sir. We’ll be there.”
“In uniform.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Quaeryt smiled pleasantly.
Jaramyr inclined his head politely. “Tomorrow morning, sir.” He stepped back, turned, and strode off.
“What did you say to him, sir?” asked Dhaeryn. “You looked at him, and he wilted. My men said he was belligerent, wanted to know why we were putting the patrol station here … talking about the worst part of the city…”
“It probably was,” admitted Quaeryt. “But if they start carrying out their duties, it won’t be.”
“You think they will?”
“If they don’t, they won’t be patrollers very long.”
Dhaeryn barked a sort laugh. “That’s the way it should be.”
After leaving the patrol building, Quaeryt, Dhaeryn, several engineers, and a company from Second Battalion rode through the largely undamaged southern section of Extela, as well as the areas farther north that had suffered from some damage from ash and lava, to determine what other repairs needed to be made to streets and drainage sewers … and what could be accomplished quickly. One matter they did discover was that of the two aqueducts supplying the city’s water, only the east aqueduct, the one called the River Aqueduct, was functioning, but it needed cleaning and repairs, with heavy leaks in several places. A section of the northwest aqueduct almost a mille in length had been destroyed by the lava and ash, but that aqueduct had largely served the destroyed part of the city, and repairs, rebuilding, or a new aqueduct would have to wait.
Then, that afternoon, while Dhaeryn and his engineers developed a work plan, first for the River Aqueduct, and then for the order of other repairs and the materials required, Quaeryt joined one of the squads from Third Battalion’s second company. In complying with Meinyt’s instructions, both Eleryt and Taenyd had set up their patrol assignments on a squad by squad basis to patrol the city.
For the first glass that Quaeryt accompanied the squad assigned to the area southwest of the governor’s square, he and the troopers saw little out of the ordinary, except that there were a few more people out and about than in previous days, at least from what he recalled.
Then, roughly two quints past the second glass of the afternoon, there was a dull roar, followed by a muted rumble and a slight trembling of the ground. Quaeryt glanced to the northwest as a thin plume of ash drifted upward into the hazy spring sky.
“Sir?” asked Squad Leader Shaupyr. “Are we going to get more ash and lava here in the city?”
Quaeryt studied the volcano for a moment. The ash plume did not appear to be thickening, and there were no more rumblings. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to be careful and be ready to ride south at any moment.”
As he finished speaking, a violent gust of hot wind swept out of the northwest, and the bits of ash it carried were enough to trigger Quaeryt’s shields, so that while the wind itself was like the heat of a desert on his exposed skin, the ashes seemed to circle around him.
“… look at that!” hissed one of the rankers.
Before Quaeryt could decide whether to drop the shields, a scream echoed from the side street ahead.
“Help! Brigands! Thieves! Help!”
Quaeryt left his shields in place and urged the mare forward and then into the side street.
“After the governor!” ordered Shaupyr.
A heavyset man running down the side street glanced back over his shoulder, then turned in time to see Quaeryt’s mount. He jumped to one side in order to avoid the mare, but the impact of the shields on him threw him to the pavement, and his body slid to the curbstone of the sidewalk. The bag he’d held flew from his fingers, and coppers scattered across the stones.
The second man was running the other way.
Quaeryt imaged oil under his boots, and the second thief went down hard on the stone pavement. For several moments he did not move, and by the time he staggered up and was starting to run again, Quaeryt was on him. A single blow of the half-staff to the back of the man’s head was enough to bring him down again.
Before the man could rise again, the rest of the squad had filled the side street. Four rankers dismounted and trussed up the two thieves.
A graying woman dressed in a faded brown shirt and even more washed-out brown trousers stood in a narrow doorway, her head moving from side to side, and Quaeryt rode over and reined up short of her. “Are you all right?”
“They took my wallet. They took it … I heard the roar and the rumble, sir. Someone yelled that more ash was coming, and I peered out the door. It was like those two were waiting…”
“They probably were,” said Quaeryt.
The woman looked at Quaeryt. Her eyes went to Shaupyr, who rode up and extended the pouch.
“Here’s your wallet. I don’t know if we found all the coins…”
“I had almost a silver’s worth of coppers…” wailed the woman.
Quaeryt slipped a silver from his wallet and leaned down from the saddle to extend it. “This should make up the difference.”
The woman started to grab for the coin, then restrained herself. “You’re not a trooper. Not dressed like a scholar.”
“No, I’m not, but the silver is yours.”
“That’s Governor Quaeryt,” said the squad leader.
“But … he was the one … he stopped … both of them…”
“The governor is good with the staff,” added Shaupyr. “He was riding patrol with us.”
The woman turned back to face Quaeryt, and her eyes widened. “The Nameless bless you, sir.”
“Just be careful.”
“I will, sir.” The woman darted back inside the narrow door.
Quaeryt heard the sound of a door bar dropping into place.
“What do you want us to do with this pair, sir?” asked the squad leader. “Take them to the south square?”
Quaeryt frowned. “No … take them to the patrol station. They can work off their crime rebuilding it, or the bridge, or whatever else the engineers need strong backs for.”
One of the brigands stiffened, but said nothing.
Quaeryt belatedly realized that he’d never questioned the man who’d tried to attack the wagon on the day they had provided free bread and potatoes.
