Princeps

When they finished eating, Vaelora looked to him. “When will you be back?”

“Mid to late afternoon … if there aren’t any problems. Do you need anything from the post?”

She frowned, thinking. “I don’t think so. There’s much to do here. We still need a wagon and a cart horse.”

“And … when we can … we’ll need a coach and a team,” Quaeryt admitted.

“That can wait … for a little while.”

Quaeryt wasn’t about to ask how long that meant.

Since there was no practical way to house a squad of troopers in the space over the villa’s stable, Quaeryt rode to the post with just two troopers as an escort. That seemed more in keeping with his sense of propriety, especially since Extela seemed less unsettled than it had when he had arrived close to a month before and likely as peaceful as it would be for the foreseeable future.

Once he stabled the mare at the post stable, he made his way across the courtyard to the building that held his “official” study. As he stepped through the door, he looked to the duty squad leader. “Any dispatches from Solis?”

“No, sir. No dispatches from anywhere.”

That was good, given that almost any dispatch at the moment would have brought bad news. “Thank you.”

Then he went to find Skarpa. The regimental commander was alone in the post commander’s study.

“Any problems I should know about?” asked Quaeryt, closing the door behind himself.

The commander smiled sardonically. “There are always problems in a regiment. None of them are large enough to involve you. Some rowdy troopers last night, but not in the Pharsi part of the city, and our patrols caught them before the Civic Patrol did.”

Quaeryt hadn’t realized that Pharyl had begun night patrols, but the fact that he didn’t even know was good.

“The other problem is that we’ve had more than a score of mounts dropping or breaking shoes in the last week.”

“You think the farrier in Tilbora had a bad batch of shoes? Or could it be all the riding through the ash here?”

Skarpa shrugged. “Who can tell? The farrier here looks to be good, and we’ve gotten the ailing horses all re- shod. A couple will need a few days of rest.”

“Have you picked up any recruits?”

“A handful. I gave them to Meinyt. He’s good at training them. A few seemed better suited to the Civic Patrol, and I sent them to Hrehn.”

“We can use some good ones.”

“Can’t we all?” Skarpa paused. “I heard you had to let that little idiot nephew of the High Holder up in Ilyum loose.”

“No one could prove anything except that he followed his brother and that he resisted custody. The High Holder is married to Bhayar’s favorite cousin, and he sent an advocate. Guilty as the nephew likely was, there was no way to prove it, and I didn’t see much benefit in gaoling him longer and branding him. He and his ‘uncle’ will be angry enough as it is, especially since Hyleor’s guilty of worse, even if half of it’s not strictly against the laws, and the other half without evidence to prove it. Everyone seems to think he’s not worth the firewood to send him to the Nameless.”

“Don’t envy you, sir. In some ways, fighting the Bovarians might be easier than putting Extela back together.”

Quaeryt laughed. “You might be right … except more people get killed in battle.” A lot more. As he’d discovered, even imagers with shields could get wounded … and if that one quarrel had been just a bit higher and hit his neck, even his shields wouldn’t have saved him. Then again, his shields were better now, but he still couldn’t hold them against constant attacks for a long time.

“That may be, sir, but you can win battles. There’s no way you can win in putting a city back together. There’s always more to do, and always someone unhappy.”

Quaeryt nodded. He hadn’t exactly thought of it in that way. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, either.

When he finished with Skarpa, Quaeryt headed out to the courtyard to brief the captain who had the supply duty. He’d decided that the troopers should not make any statements about if or when they might be back to sell flour. They were only to say that any decision on selling more flour was up to the governor. And once the company and wagons had left the post, Quaeryt needed to check with Major Heireg about the situation with supplies and what needed to go with the regiment when it left for Ferravyl.

After that, amid everything else, he still had to come up with another homily before services on Solayi evening.

43

Quaeryt woke up tired on Lundi morning, but relieved that he’d managed to deliver another homily on Solayi evening … and one that stayed within the bounds of what he’d heard and studied about the Nameless and his own conscience. He needed to find a chorister for the post, but the problem there was simple. While there were enough believers to support the anomen when a full regiment was in residence, that certainly wasn’t the case most of the time, and with the state of the province’s finances, he didn’t like the idea of committing golds, or even silvers, to maintaining an anomen that was poorly attended most of the year. That was no doubt why it had been locked and unused when he and the regiment had arrived.

Quaeryt left for the post right after breakfast, knowing that despite the light misty drizzle that enshrouded Extela, Vaelora would be shopping to see what other items she could find for the villa … those most needed, since it would take months, if not years, not to mention more golds than Quaeryt wanted to think about, in order to finish refurbishing the old dwelling.

When Quaeryt reached the post and made his way to his study, he found Pharyl waiting for him in the corridor. “Good morning, Governor.”

“Good morning, Chief.” Quaeryt gestured for the older officer to enter the study first. “Is your visit because of a problem or just to keep me informed?” He tried to keep his tone lightly ironic as he closed the door and took his seat.

“Just to keep you informed. I take it that Commander Skarpa told you that he referred several young men to me as possible recruits?”

“He did.”

“They were quite suitable, all but one. When they discovered that the leadership of the patrol had changed, they suggested that others might well wish to become patrollers. We’ve had several more inquiries, and recruiting looks promising.”

“Good.”

“The work on the station is completed. It’s rough in places, but I can have some of the recruits work on fixing up the small things as part of their training. I’d thought to schedule justicer hearings on Mardi and Jeudi mornings at eighth glass, as necessary. I wanted to check with you first, though.”

“That sounds fine. Until I can find a true justicer, I’ll handle them, but upon occasion, we may have to change the day or time.”

“I thought that might be the case.”

“Do you have any offenders that need a hearing?”

“Ah … not really, sir.”

Quaeryt smiled. “A few disorderly types that you just wanted to lock up for a time and then quietly release?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve started some night patrols, and as we complete more training and retraining, we’ll be putting more men on the streets at night. I don’t think we’ll be able to cover much in the time between midnight and fifth glass … I’ve also asked around, and so has Captain Hrehn, about those factors … the ones whose names were on