trees, but even those were scarcely saplings, or anything close. The hold house itself was of two levels, also of the reddish black brick and formed a V, with the entry portico at the point of the V.
Thysor stood on the wide brick expanse in front of the brick pillars that supported the portico roof that sheltered the entry to the long dwelling.
“Greetings!” offered the High Holder as Vaelora and Quaeryt dismounted. “Refreshments await your men and the mounts in the north courtyard.” Thysor gestured to his left.
“Thank you,” replied Quaeryt, after handing the mare’s reins to a ranker and extending the hand to Vaelora that she didn’t need to dismount.
They walked up the three steps to join the holder.
“Governor Quaeryt,” offered Thysor, his eyes going to Vaelora, “and Lady Vaelora. I always told your brother that you’d grow up to be both intelligent and beautiful.”
“I’m glad you offered more than beauty as a compliment,” returned Vaelora. “Yet how would you know, since you’ve not seen me in years?”
Thysor laughed. “Your husband is a scholar … and a governor. Your brother has followed his father’s example. The more closely related someone is to him, the more he expects. The governor is your husband and, if I understand matters correctly, had to prove himself in a number of ways. You were known as extraordinarily bright as a child, and you had the habit of tactfully puncturing vanity even then. Therefore…” The silver-haired High Holder shrugged, but his eyes smiled.
Vaelora offered a warm smile. “And you, Thysor, would have liked to flirt with every pretty girl and woman, but contented yourself with charming young girls. I can see some things have not changed.”
The interaction between the two was a quick reminder to Quaeryt that he’d become part of a very small circle, about which he knew next to nothing-except for Bhayar’s family.
“My dear lady … I would not dare. Already, the word has spread that your husband has single-handedly restored basic order in Extela.”
“That’s rather easy to do with a full regiment at your back,” suggested Quaeryt mildly.
“It only seems so,” replied Thysor. “But do come in. We can talk of that and other matters over refreshments and light fare.” He paused. “I do presume you are not here for a mere courtesy call, Governor.”
“For courtesy, but not just for that.”
“I do appreciate the courtesy,” replied Thysor as he guided them between the brick pillars and to the open but plain goldenwood double doors, “and your interest in more than courtesy. Your predecessor emphasized courtesy to the exclusion of all else … or so it seemed from this side of the river.”
“Especially courtesy to his own coffers, it appears more and more,” replied Quaeryt, hoping for a response from Thysor.
“That is a common failing among governors, one reason, no doubt, you were appointed.” His voice turned wry as he continued. “It’s also a failing not unknown to High Holders, as I suspect you’ve discovered.”
Quaeryt wasn’t certain if Thysor already knew about Wystgahl, and he wasn’t about to ask. He just said, “Greed is common enough among all, I fear.”
“So it is.”
The entry hall through which they walked was square, with off-white plastered walls above goldenwood wainscoting, and a pair of portraits, one a woman, on the north wall, and the other a man, on the south wall. Neither resembled Thysor.
The High Holder led them through the receiving hall to another circular chamber, from which two corridors branched, one at an angle to the left and the other at the same angle to the right. At the back of the circular hall was an archway, with open double doors, toward which Thysor continued. Beyond the archway was an expansive chamber.
“Chaelyna is awaiting us in the salon. It is a treat to have visitors. We see so few, as far as we are from Extela.” Thysor halted at the archway, gestured for them to enter, and then followed, smoothly moving up beside Vaelora.
Quaeryt surveyed the salon quickly, noting the wall of windows to the west, overlooking a private garden, with each window having dark gauzy hangings, most likely to mitigate the light of the late-afternoon sunlight, especially in summer, and heavier ochre draperies as well, for cold winter evenings. Set directly before the center windows was a table, already set for four.
The slightly stocky dark-haired woman who rose from the settee on the immediate right, while perhaps a good ten years older than Quaeryt, was certainly at least that amount younger than the High Holder. She offered a cheerful smile.
“Dear … Governor Quaeryt and his wife Vaelora. You might remember her.” Thysor’s eyes twinkled.
“Chayar’s youngest. My … how beautiful you are … and married, no less.”
“Only since the first of the year,” replied Vaelora.
Thysor gestured to the chairs and the settee facing the one before which Chaelyna stood. Vaelora settled onto the settee in such a fashion that both women seated themselves at the same instant. Quaeryt was not quite as deft as his wife, but not so far off that it was noticeable.
“Shall we dispense with the less courteous aspect of your visit first, so that we may enjoy your company?” asked the High Holder.
Quaeryt couldn’t help smiling at the way in which Thysor had framed matters, with the implication that the “less courteous aspect” still needed to be handled courteously and tactfully. “I may have been misinformed, but I gathered that you have extensive timberlands…”
“Do not tell me that the governor is becoming a timber factor…” Thysor laughed. “Pardon my little jokes. I notice that you have men working on the east river bridge. You are looking for heavy timbers and planks?”
“I am. At present, what remains of the span can barely hold a single mount at a time.”
“What terms are you asking?”
“Your cost for the timber, plus a profit of one part in ten.”
“And you would trust my costs?” Thysor raised his eyebrows.
“I trust everyone … until they abuse that trust. For some, I have trusted them only once.”
Thysor looked not at Quaeryt, but to Vaelora. “Is it wise to abuse the governor’s trust?”
“No … because he holds it as an abuse of Lord Bhayar’s trust.”
“Pardon me, if I ask a personal question, Lady. Did the governor serve Lord Bhayar before you married him?”
Vaelora laughed. “He has known Bhayar since I was little more than a babe, and he served as an advisor and more, most lately as princeps of Tilbor. He did not seek my hand. Lord Bhayar insisted that I wed him.”
Thysor’s eyes returned to Quaeryt. “Then you are high in Bhayar’s estimation, and your accomplishments must be many, or you would not be a governor, coming from a background as a scholar.”
Quaeryt smiled wryly. “There is no way that I can reply to that without seeming either excessively overweening or falsely modest.”
“I think you just did.” Thysor chuckled.
Across the table, Chaelyna smiled as well, but did not speak.
The High Holder’s eyes lighted on Vaelora. “Again … my pardon, but you do not act as many women do when a marriage is arranged without their consent. Nor do your glances at your husband suggest indifference.”
“I do believe, High Holder,” replied Vaelora with a light laugh, “that we should discuss such matters after those of lesser courtesy.”
“So we should.” Thysor’s voice and expression were both warm. He turned back to Quaeryt. “Seeing as you are who you are, and seeing as you are neither attempting to buy my favor by acceding to an exorbitant price, nor that of the mob, by forcing a sale on which I would lose golds, I will accept your terms. Your men can meet with my timbermaster tomorrow if they so wish.”
“I will send Major Heireg and Major Dhaeryn to see him.”
“Excellent.” Thysor smiled broadly. “Then we can talk over more pleasant matters, and we can learn more about both of you.”
“I had hoped to learn more about you,” replied Quaeryt. “and what you can tell me about Extela and Montagne.”
“I could not tell you half so much as could your lovely wife.”
