each for their opinions, and their recommendations.”
The commander nodded. “That might be best. How are the patrollers coming?”
“I’ll see shortly. I’m not that impressed so far.”
“They won’t be as good as the best rankers.”
“I’ll have to find a way to make them that good-or one of your captains will.” After the briefest pause, Quaeryt asked, “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“No, and I hope there won’t be.”
So did Quaeryt.
After Skarpa left, Quaeryt grabbed the map he’d worked with on Meredi afternoon and hurried out to the courtyard, where a ranker had the mare saddled and waiting. He mounted and rode over to where Captain Eleryt waited.
“Ready, sir?”
Quaeryt nodded. They had less than two quints to get to the patroller station, and he worried about being late. Not that anyone would call him on it, but he needed to set the example … and he still needed to write up a code for the Civic Patrol.
“Company! Forward!”
Neither Quaeryt nor Eleryt spoke until they were well away from the post and the gates had closed behind the end of the company.
“Like the other days, sir? One squad to stay at the patrol station, and the others to patrol their sections of the city?”
“Exactly the same. I hope we can start the patrollers taking over some of that before long.”
“The men don’t mind, and they like it better than training all the time.”
“I suppose they do. They can see something beside the post.”
He rode for another half quint before he noticed several women-more than several-ahead on the sidewalk to his right … before some of the shops that had been open for the past week or so.
“Governor!”
Quaeryt looked to see who had called out, and realized it was the older woman standing slightly out from the others-close to half a score of other women, some older, and some younger. Almost all were dark-haired and honey-skinned, a shade slightly darker than that of Vaelora’s complexion. He gestured to Eleryt and reined up.
“Yes?”
The woman who had stepped forward followed the salutation with a brief phrase in Pharsi, one Quaeryt recognized.
He answered with one of the few phrases he recalled from childhood, and then said in Tellan, “I was orphaned young, and that is all I recall.”
“You are a lost one, then, in more ways than one.”
“So it has been said.”
“Why do you let your soldiers attack our girls?”
“What he did was forbidden. She and you defended her honor. No one will come after you, and I will make certain that the few soldiers who did not understand will know to leave you alone. Most do. The man who attacked the girl was from Piedryn.”
One of the younger women spat into the gutter … demonstratively.
The older woman nodded. “It is said that you listen and that you are fair.”
Quaeryt understood what she meant-that she expected him to keep his word. “I will do what I said. There are more than a thousand soldiers. Most will be gone in two months, and I have already ordered my officers to remind their men about Pharsi women. I cannot promise that every single one of them will be wise in the ways of Pharsi women.”
The woman nodded once more, then spoke the single Pharsi word that meant acknowledgment, thanks, and an end to the conversation.
Quaeryt replied with a nod.
The women all turned and moved away.
Quaeryt gestured to Eleryt.
“Forward!” Then the captain eased his mount closer to the mare. “Sir … if I might ask…”
“Last night…” Quaeryt went on to explain what Skarpa had told him. “… and the commander and I decided that to pursue the Pharsi women would be a very bad idea, especially after what happened in Tilbora under the first governor.”
“Sir … I understood that. But … she addressed you in Pharsi … and called you a lost one. But you’re blond…”
Quaeryt laughed softly. “I was orphaned as a very young child, so young I was barely able to speak. I knew I was an orphan, but I didn’t know I was Pharsi until less than a year ago.” He recalled that moment in the produce factorage when Hailae had spoken to him in Pharsi and proclaimed him a lost one … and wondered how he could have forgotten it, even for a moment. “Until then, I had no idea. Like you, I thought all Pharsi were dark-haired or at least had brown hair. So did everyone else. Blond Pharsi are called the ‘lost ones.’ Why, I don’t know. There’s some sort of legend, but I’ve never heard it.”
“Lord Bhayar has some Pharsi ancestors, it’s said.”
“He does, but he didn’t know I was Pharsi until after I knew.”
“Lost ones … I’ve never heard of that.”
“Neither did I.” Quaeryt kept his tone light. “And I thought I’d found myself.”
Eleryt smiled.
As they continued to ride toward the patrol station, Quaeryt saw the streets were cleaner, and that the ash was largely gone. He glanced toward the truncated peak that was Mount Extel. While he saw a waviness in the sky above the mountain that suggested the air there was warmer, he couldn’t make out any sign of more ash.
As the bells from the nearest anomen finished ringing out seventh glass, Quaeryt dismounted and hurried into the still-uncompleted patrol station. A quick look across the waiting patrollers, actually drawn up in five groups, each headed by one of the patrollers first, heartened him somewhat. More than somewhat, when he realized that four of the groups held twelve patrollers each, eleven plus a first. The fifth group held ten.
“Governor, sir,” offered Jaramyr, stepping forward slightly from the smaller group. “We’ve been passing the word that the patrol’s being re-formed. Some of the other patrollers came back. They didn’t know. I have their names for you, sir.”
“Excellent,” replied Quaeryt. “It appears as though you’ve grouped the men in terms of patrols under a patroller first.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve also listed each patrol here. You can change them as you see fit.…”
Quaeryt nodded. “We’ll see about that as matters progress. Did the old patrol operate with eight-man patrols under a first? Or was it twenty under a first?”
“Twenty, sir. There were eight patrols, and each had two squads, one for the day shift, and one for the night shift.”
“But you weren’t at full strength, were you?”
There was the slightest pause, as if Jaramyr were considering how to reply, before he said, “No, sir. There were supposed to be eight patrols, but we had six patrols and five extra men.”
Quaeryt waited.
“… and most of the patrols had fifteen or sixteen men,” the patroller first finished.
“Were you ever told why?”
“The chief said that he only received enough golds for that many patrollers.”
Quaeryt snorted.
The faintest look of puzzlement crossed Jaramyr’s face.
“I can tell you without even any records that the chief received enough golds for eight patrols. I’d also wager that whatever patrols covered the governor’s square were at full strength.”
A faint smile was the response Quaeryt got, followed by, “I wouldn’t take that wager, sir.”
“I didn’t think so.”
