“I’d also wager that the former chief and his captains likely survived the eruption and were not seen soon after.”
“Captain Hrolar and most of the two patrols he summoned were killed trying to warn people. The others … we never saw them.”
“Yes, sir. He was a good captain.”
From Jaramyr’s tone, Quaeryt could easy infer that the other captain or captains were not all that good.
“There are a number of things we need to take care of this morning. I’d like to start by meeting with the patrollers first about which patrols should be assigned to which parts of the city and rotation patterns. While we’re discussing that, I’d like each of the patrols to meet and come up with a listing of what equipment or gear that they need-at a minimum.”
For the next glass, after passing word to their patrols, the five patrollers first and Quaeryt went over the map he’d brought. Several made corrections to streets and alleyways, but in the end they’d worked out a tentative plan for patrolling. Then he asked for suggestions on inclusions in the code for patrollers, before having each patrol leader return to his patrol and gather equipment requests.
Once they returned and he’d finished noting those requests, he asked, “Are there any questions?”
“Not about what you said, sir,” replied Yuell, who looked to be the youngest of the patrollers first. “We heard there was a problem between some Pharsi girls and some soldiers … what are we supposed to do about that?”
“The ranker who attacked the woman is dead. I doubt there will be many more problems like that. Rankers have to obey the laws just like everyone else.” He thought about saying something about coming to him if there were too many rankers to press a point, but decided against it. Then he caught the sharp glances between Chelsyr and another patroller first-Uhlen, he recalled-and added, “I’m very well aware that some of Lord Bhayar’s ancestors were Pharsi … and that he doesn’t like women being forced-especially Pharsi women. I don’t either, and neither will whoever becomes patrol chief.” He smiled the cold smile. “Are there any other questions?”
“Do you know when we’ll have a patrol chief, sir?” asked Waollyt.
“I’m still working on that. One way or another it won’t be too long.”
“Sir…” began Uhlen, “if other patrollers who were patrollers want to join the patrol … what should we say?”
“Tell them that you’ll have to ask me-or the new chief. Before we make a decision, I’d like to hear what the patrollers first have to say about that man … and I’d like to know why he didn’t show up the way everyone else did.”
That brought nods from the group.
After almost another glass, he released the patrollers first to go over the possible patrols with their men. He also gave the patrollers first the discretion as to when to release their men, as well as noting that he expected everyone present at seventh glass on Vendrei. Then he departed with the single squad detailed to escort him.
Quaeryt rode back through the gates to the post at roughly two quints before the ten bells marking noon would ring out. Vaelora was waiting for him in a narrow wedge of shade on the north side of the stable.
After he dismounted, he led the mare over to where she stood. “How did your explorations go?”
“I’ll tell you on the ride.” Vaelora grimaced. “I wish we didn’t have to visit a High Holder in riding garb.”
“We don’t have a coach, and even if we did, I don’t think I’d want to take it over the east bridge at the moment.”
“Another loss to the mountain,” she said ruefully. “I’m sure Governor Scythn had a coach.”
“Among many other things.”
“You don’t like him, and you never met him.” After a moment she added slyly, “I cannot imagine why.”
“Neither can I, except that it might have something to do with his handiwork. I just found out this morning that it appears that he allowed the patrol chief to pocket the pay of what amounted to two patrols.” He paused. “We need to ride out as soon as I water the mare and the squads are ready.”
“Squads?”
“The one that escorted you, and the one that escorted me. Skarpa doesn’t want us going anywhere with less than half a company, especially outside of Extela.”
Even so, it was a good quint past noon before they left the post and headed for the east river bridge. Because Dhaeryn had not been able to locate any large timbers, the repairs so far had been limited to rebuilding and reinforcing the stone piers. That was another reason why Quaeryt needed to talk to Thysor, because, from what Quaeryt had been able to determine, Thysor was the closest High Holder with extensive timberlands.
As they rode into the area of Extela that Quaeryt had come to realize held a number of Pharsi shops, factorages, and homes, he saw several women turn, inclining their heads to Vaelora in respect. He knew that because he saw the lips of several murmur words about the Nameless “blessing the lady.”
He said nothing about that until they were crossing the square on the west side of the river, just before the bridge. “You have more than a few admirers.”
“On this side of Extela.”
“I can’t imagine that anyone would indicate anything else, even on the west side.”
“Let us just say that many on the west side are more reserved.”
“After all these years?”
“Especially after all these years.”
Quaeryt understood. That had always been the problem the Pharsi faced. Because they were intelligent and worked harder than anyone else, they were successful. Very few people really wanted to attribute success just to hard work, and so they blamed it on cliquishness and conspiracy. Then when the Yaran warlords had married Pharsi women, Quaeryt had no doubt the marriages had “proved” the nefarious motives of the Pharsi clans.
Quaeryt could see engineers working on the middle pier of the bridge, but not on the piers closest to the riverbanks. “It looks like Dhaeryn and the engineers have the end piers on each side largely repaired.”
“The planks and timbers don’t look that solid,” observed Vaelora.
As before, they ended up crossing the bridge in single file, widely spaced, and it took more than two quints to get both squads across.
Once they were on the main road, on the way to the crossroads where they would turn south, Vaelora asked, “How is the rebuilding of the patrol station coming?”
“I’m hopeful it will be usable by sometime next week. It’s likely to be ready before the patrollers are.” After a moment, he asked, “What have you discovered?” He tried not to sound wary or skeptical.
“There’s one dwelling that
“Furnishings?”
Vaelora shook her head. “A few pieces, but even they’d need work before you’d trust them.”
“What does she want for it?”
“Five hundred golds. The repairs would cost at least fifty, and furnishings…” Vaelora shook her head.
“We can’t…” Quaeryt paused.
“You were going to say, dearest?”
“I was going to say that we couldn’t afford that, but I realized that the governor can, since the villa will serve as well for whoever else is governor, and five hundred golds is not that expensive for a permanent residence.”
“Later governors will not be so modest.”
“That will be their problem, but it could also serve as the residence of the princeps.”
“I had thought that, actually. If we can work matters out.” Vaelora smiled.
Another glass passed before they reached the severe iron gates to Thyhyem, gates attached to modest reddish black brick pillars, and flanked by walls that extended less than two yards on each side of the gates. Beyond the walls on each side was a thick hedgerow. There was no gatehouse and no guard.
Even on a second visit, Thyhyem wasn’t exactly what Quaeryt expected, not with the mille-long flat graveled entry drive flanked by ancient and massive oaks, although in places there were younger oaks, clearly replacement
