The signature was that of Caesyt Klaesyn.
Quaeryt took a deep breath and began to read. After struggling through the nine long pages, far more abstruse than any scholarly treatise he had ever read, he set the brief back on the desk and massaged his forehead.
From what he could decipher, the local holders of the lands bordering those of Aramyn claimed that the High Holder and his father had both made the practice of diverting more of the water from the stream, identified as Minawa Creek, than was theirs by right to divert, and that they had left insufficient water in the creek for the downstream users to irrigate their lands and crops.
Quaeryt had no idea what to do-except pay a visit to former high justicer Aextyl and ask for his advice and counsel. He didn’t even know how soon he had to act and whether he had to give notification to Aramyn and in what form, if he did-or if the so-called brief was a legal bluff of some sort.
He did have the idea that Advocate Caesyt, having seen Quaeryt make an immediate decision in the case involving Vhalsyr, believed the evidence was on his side and was trying to get an immediate judgment on this issue as well.
Less than a quint later, Quaeryt was riding the mare northwest to the dwelling of the former justicer, with the document he’d received and Ekyrd’s treatise in one of his saddlebags. While the drizzle had stopped, the sky was still overcast, but at least it wasn’t raining. He didn’t see the sad-faced hound, either. After reaching Aextyl’s house, he had not even tied the mare to the hitching ring when the front door opened, and the justicer’s daughter stood there.
“He can’t be a justicer, Governor. You’ll kill him if you insist.”
“I won’t insist. I’m just here for his advice … and to return the book I borrowed.” Quaeryt walked up the steps, carrying the book and the brief and leaving the pair of rankers mounted and waiting. “Might I see him?”
The woman nodded, sadly. “He’s reading in the study.” She turned and led him through the small entry hall and down the hallway. “The governor is here, Father.”
“I thought he’d be back.” There was a laugh.
Quaeryt eased his way into the study and closed the door.
“Good morning, Governor.” Aextyl gestured to the straight-backed chair.
“I wanted to return this”-Quaeryt lifted the maroon-bound book-“and to ask you to read something and offer your opinion. I won’t ask you to read it as a favor. I’ll pay for your time.”
“I just might take you up on that. Times aren’t what they used to be. You can keep the book as long as you need it.”
Quaeryt extended the sheets, then sat back and waited.
Almost a quint passed before Aextyl looked up. “Slimy ball of offal. You don’t have any final jurisdiction on this, not as a governor or even as an acting provincial high justicer. Any petition or brief involving the rights of a High Holder has to be decided by the High Justicer of Telaryn, who must be a High Holder.”
“Good-”
“But,” the old justicer went on, “you have to write an opinion on the brief, and whatever Aramyn submits in rebuttal, and offer a recommendation.”
“I could certainly write something, but it wouldn’t be phrased correctly.”
Aextyl smiled. “That’s what Caesyt is counting on.”
“What if I draft what I think, and you redraft it in the proper form? Would two golds be a fair payment?”
“More than fair, Governor, and I’d be happy to do that.”
“There’s one other thing. Don’t I have to have a hearing and announce my decision or referral or whatever?”
“You do.”
“Could I persuade you, for another gold, to sit beside me and advise me on anything that comes up? Caesyt knows I’m no advocate or justicer. I’ll act as justicer, but I’d have someone come and get you, pay you, and return you here.”
“Just advise you?” Aextyl’s tone was somewhere between doubtful and weary.
“I’ve already used the treatise to get through four hearings, but I don’t trust Caesyt.”
“You shouldn’t. He’s slimier than an eel, and more disgusting than hog offal in midsummer … like I said before.”
Quaeryt didn’t want to press the old justicer. “I won’t ask for your decision on advising me in the hearing now. I’d like you to think about it, but I do want your expertise in redrafting my opinion.”
“I can do that.”
“Is there any time period in which I have to respond?”
“No, but it’s considered bad form and will discredit your opinion if you take longer than a month.”
“Don’t I have to inform High Holder Aramyn?”
“Caesyt’s supposed to, but you should check with Aramyn. You’ll have to wait for his reply.”
“Knowing Aramyn, you won’t wait long-if Caesyt notified him. I wouldn’t put it past him not to.”
“Wouldn’t that prejudice the case?”
“It should, but Caesyt just might want to discredit you as well.”
Quaeryt had already thought about that. He nodded. “I think I’ll be riding out to see High Holder Aramyn.”
Aextyl smiled wearily. “I’ll wait on your draft, Governor.”
“Thank you.” Quaeryt stood. “I do appreciate it.”
“I appreciate your consideration in asking my opinion, Governor.”
“I respect your knowledge, sir.”
“You’re one of the few who does, these days.”
Quaeryt slipped a gold from his wallet and laid it on the desk. “That, I trust, is sufficient to cover your time and expertise today.”
“You don’t have to…”
“But I do. You’ve already kept me from making a terrible mistake.” Quaeryt smiled, started to turn, then stopped. “Oh … you mentioned that I should be careful in dealing with a Factor Lysienk. What can you tell me about him?”
Aextyl frowned. “I can’t say that I know that much. He arrived in Extela only about a year before I stepped down. He seemed to have golds, enough to buy the place he did, and then build a high wall around it. He supplied goods of various sorts to Scythn and others, claimed that he had the best produce, among other things. It seemed to me that people were always wary about saying anything about him. Oh … and he always rides with four bodyguards.” The older justicer shrugged. “I never met him, but when an outsider gets that kind of wealth and influence that quickly … and when he feels he needs guards, it usually suggests the less than savory. I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I know.”
“Thank you.” Quaeryt nodded again, then made his way from the study, quietly closing the door behind him.
“You didn’t ask him to be a justicer, did you?” asked the daughter, waiting in the narrow hall.
“No. I asked if I could pay him two golds to redraft an opinion correctly and if he would advise me on handling a hearing over water rights, I’d pay him more for the advice.”
“Two golds?”
“I hope that’s not unfair…”
The daughter laughed bitterly. “No. You’re being more than fair, Governor. Unlike some.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of him, but I do need his knowledge and expertise.”
“He’ll be happy that you do.”
Quaeryt hoped so. He nodded politely and made his way down to the hitching ring, untied the mare, and mounted. A quick glance to the northwest revealed no change around or in the air above Mount Extel.
The ride to Aramyn’s holding took almost a glass, and when he stepped into the entry of the hold house, the High Holder met him with a puzzled expression on his face.
