more-since the trader apparently had no other place of business. He hoped the factor would be there, because he really didn’t want to ride out on Samedi … although he would if he had to.
Two men were unloading a small high-wheeled wagon, carrying sacks into a shed at the rear of the dwelling, when Quaeryt approached the house, with a front garden surrounded by a waist-high brick wall topped with ironwork spikes on every post. The ends of the spikes would have been chest-high on Quaeryt. He frowned. For a tall man to fall on one was not impossible … but it was unlikely. Still, all the reports confirmed that Versoryn had attacked the trooper with a long knife and tried to gut the man’s mount. After a moment, Quaeryt rode down the narrow rutted drive at the side, where he reined up and dismounted, handing the mare’s reins to the ranker who had accompanied him.
The burly man, several digits taller than Quaeryt and broader as well, with heavy-lidded eyes, a fleshy face, and shiny black hair-presumably Hyleor himself-turned and waited.
“Trader Hyleor?”
“Who else?” His eyes flicked from Quaeryt to the ranker, and then to the squad of troopers drawn up in the street at the end of the drive. After a moment he studied Quaeryt. “A visit from the governor himself. What a surprise.” The sardonic tone to his words was as heavy as the man himself.
“I came by earlier, but I understand you were traveling.”
“You waited long enough. I had business.”
“I’m sure you did. So did I.”
Hyleor waited, as if challenging Quaeryt to speak.
Quaeryt didn’t mind, but he did let the silence draw out for a bit. “My troopers reported that a gang of men tried to attack you.”
“Tried? They dragged me away from the wagon and into the street. They laid whips on me. If that was just trying, I’d not want to know what succeeding might be.”
“Did you know any of them?”
“I’d never seen any one of them before that.”
“Then why do you suppose they attacked you?”
“Who knows?” Hyleor’s snort was accompanied by an expression close to a sneer. “Rumors, I’d guess. Everyone thinks spice and herb traders trade in elveweed and curamyn … or worse. We’re the last ones who do that.”
“The last ones?”
“Everyone thinks we do. We get stopped and searched by the governors’ men-or Lord Bhayar’s-in every province. They never find anything. That’s because we know we’ll get searched, and it’s not worth the danger.”
“There’s no law against it.”
“Law? Who said anything about law? I suppose you’ve released that little snot your men caught. Too bad he didn’t suffer the same sort of ‘accident’ his brother did.”
“How did you know they were brothers?”
“It would have been hard to ignore. He was screaming that the troopers killed his brother. He kept yelling about it until they gagged him and carted him off. You didn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t ask one,” replied Quaeryt pleasantly.
“Did you release him?”
“He’s still locked up. I wanted to talk to you about testifying in the hearing on Lundi.”
“Your men saw it all. You don’t need me. I’m the one who got whipped. I didn’t even know who they were until your men showed up and I saw the one lying on the fence spike. Besides, I’m headed to Solis tomorrow.”
“I could require you to stay.”
“You do that, and I’ll have all the factors’ councils protesting to Lord Bhayar.”
Quaeryt shrugged. “The brother will have an advocate representing him, and without your presence…”
“That’s your problem, Governor, not mine. Now … if you’ll excuse me…” Hyleor turned away and walked toward the wagon.
After a moment Quaeryt turned and mounted, then rode back up the drive to rejoin the squad. As he rode back to the post, Quaeryt had to admit that he was amazed at Hyleor’s arrogance and effrontery, but he hadn’t really wanted to throw a factor-even one of dubious reputation-into one of the Civic Patrol gaol cells.
Either way, Hyleor’s attitude was going to make life more difficult for Quaeryt.
It was half past four when Vaelora returned to the post, and Quaeryt was waiting in the courtyard as she dismounted. She wasn’t smiling, and he decided not to ask anything. He just smiled warmly. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“It’s not as if I’d been traveling to Solis and returned.” Her voice was edgy. “It feels that way. It took me half the day to arrange for linens-bed linens, towels, table linens, napkins … even blankets. Half a day! I could have done it in a glass or two in Solis.”
Quaeryt nodded, not wanting to point out the obvious-that they weren’t in Solis, but in a much smaller city recently devastated by an eruption and earth tremors. “I know. It’s much harder to get things accomplished here.”
“Everything is an endless chore!”
“It does feel that way.”
“Stop humoring me. You sound more condescending than Aunt Nerya at her worst.”
“I do understand. I’m paying more for timbers, and they take longer to mill. I can’t find an honest justicer … and I just got a dispatch from your brother.”
Vaelora looked ready to snap back at Quaeryt until she heard his last news. “What’s the matter?”
“Let’s go up to our quarters, and I’ll tell you. It’s not terrible, but it’s not as good as it could be.”
“Tell me now.”
“In the quarters.”
“Fine.”
Quaeryt didn’t bother to hide his wince at the coldness of her tone. Unless he could calm Vaelora down, it was likely to be a long evening. He had to walk quickly to keep up with her as she marched across the courtyard and up the outside stairs. The heel of the boot on his bad left leg caught on one of the steps, and he barely caught himself.
Vaelora didn’t even look in his direction.
Only when the quarters door was shut did she turn. “Well?”
“You don’t have to shout at me,” he said quietly.
“I hate it when you get that condescending tone in your voice. And then you refuse to tell me…”
“Did you ever think that I’d rather not say what he wrote in the courtyard with troopers all around?”
“You still didn’t have to be so condescending.”
“I shouldn’t have been.”
“No … you shouldn’t, not with everything I’ve gone through today. And Grelyana showed up at the villa. She was so falsely sweet, and it was as though you and I had tortured her for those few pieces of furniture, and she wasn’t using them. They would have dry-rotted away in the cellars of her palace. There was so much dust on them. That’s where they had to have come from because they were so filthy.…”
Quaeryt listened for close to a quint before saying a word, deciding against mentioning what Aextyl had said about Grelyana as Vaelora moved on to detailing other problems. Then, when she paused, he said, “Bhayar requires Third Regiment leave Extela no later than the sixteenth of Mayas, but they have to be ready to ride out on notice from him any day after the fifteenth of Avryl.”
“That’s only ten days away! The bridge isn’t finished. The residence won’t be ready. You can’t find trustworthy guards that soon…”
“The Bovarians are moving thousands of troops toward Ferravyl.” From Bhayar’s dispatch, Quaeryt didn’t know the precise number, but it had to be thousands, if not more, given that there were already thousands of Telaryn troops already there.
“Oh…”
