grateful.”
“I’m certain you do.”
“Seeing as you haven’t yet decided on who you might be appointing as justicers here in Montagne, I just thought I’d stop by and see how you were coming on making those decisions. I mean, I know you’re looking for experience, and you’d likely be wanting those who know how things are, and wouldn’t be wanting to cause you difficulties.”
“That’s very true,” replied Quaeryt. “I am considering those very things, and I appreciate your bringing them to my attention.” He paused. “Who would you say the most effective advocates in Extela are?”
“Be depending on what you mean by effective, Governor. Advocate Warolyt, he’s been good at representing the High Holders around Extela. Advocate Caesyt … he’s kept many a poor man from being branded when he shouldn’t have been…”
Quaeryt listened for close to half a quint before Tharyn came to an end.
“… and that’s why I really think I could do you some good as a justicer, knowing like I do which advocates do what.”
“You make a very convincing case, Tharyn, and I’ll keep your words in mind when I finally make a decision.” And Quaeryt would … if not exactly in the way that Tharyn might have hoped.
When Quaeryt finally reached the villa that evening, Vaelora greeted him as he stepped onto the portico, out of the light drizzle that had oozed out of the northwest and over Extela that afternoon.
“You look more cheerful,” observed Quaeryt.
“We finally got an invitation to a dinner.”
“Where?”
“High Holder Aramyn’s. It’s a week from tomorrow.” Vaelora paused. “We don’t have a coach or even a wagon.”
Quaeryt studied her face. “I take it that you have located a coach? Where?”
“Ah … there are two for sale, through the livery stable on the south avenue. The more … suitable one belonged to Factor Lysienk.”
Quaeryt nodded slowly. “Shenna had said his widow was selling many items.”
“She wishes to leave Extela. He had two coaches. She will keep but one.”
“What about a team?”
“Two grays come with the coach.”
“How much?”
“Thirty golds for coach and team.”
“I suppose we should purchase them.”
“Good. I already did. They will be here tomorrow.”
“You didn’t have to … A governor does deserve a coach.”
Vaelora smiled. “I know. I thought you, the treasury, more properly, could reimburse me.”
Quaeryt laughed ruefully. “What’s for dinner?”
“Stuffed fowl and sundry other accompaniments.”
“Sundry other?”
“Maize and mushroom stuffing, early asparagus, and lace-fried potatoes.”
“That will be good.” He extended his arm, and they walked across the portico and into the governor’s villa.
51
On Samedi morning, Quaeryt had been late getting to the post, not arriving until two quints past seventh glass. By ninth glass, Pharyl had sent him reports that some of the poor had gathered in the southwest market square and were complaining that the governor was no longer selling flour and potatoes … or even giving either to the very poorest. Quaeryt and Skarpa met, decided, and immediately dispatched several companies from Third Battalion.
Quaeryt thought about accompanying the troopers, then decided against it. His presence was more likely to incite those who were complaining than to calm them because they’d all be yelling that he had somehow betrayed them, and to keep order, even more force would be required.
Still, as he waited, Quaeryt couldn’t help but ponder about the situation in which he found himself. For far more than the first time, he wanted to shake his head. If he provided flour at a reasonable price for the poorer inhabitants of Extela, the factors and holders complained. If he didn’t, the poor complained.
He’d gotten the aqueduct and the east river bridge repaired. He’d re-formed the Civic Patrol and largely restored order. He’d recovered what was left of the treasury in order to pay the patrollers and to pay for the supplies needed to make the repairs. Except for the Pharsi women and a few others, it seemed as though, no matter what he did, someone was unhappy.
He pushed those thoughts aside because they wouldn’t help and took out the master ledger just to see how actual expenditures compared to what he’d estimated and how much was left in the provincial treasury.
Less than a quint later, before he’d finished his calculations, Skarpa knocked on the door and stepped inside.
“Thought you’d like to hear what happened.”
Quaeryt gestured to the chairs.
Skarpa smiled as he seated himself, a folder in his hand. “As soon as the companies appeared, the troublemakers slipped away. Pharyl’s patrollers nabbed a couple who had weapons, and I ordered Jusaph to have his company patrol the square for the next glass, and the others to sweep through the city. All the reports are that the shops are open, and nothing seems much different from any other market Samedi.”
“How long will it take not to have to use troopers?”
“Not too much longer, I’d guess. We barely had to show up. Pharyl’s whipping the Civic Patrol into better shape.”
“Still … we’ve been fortunate to have you here this long. Why do you think that is?” asked Quaeryt. “I’d have thought Bhayar would have ordered you to Ferravyl sooner.”
The commander shifted his weight in the chair and offered a slight frown before speaking. “I’d guess that he wants to leave Third Regiment as long as he can. He knows things can’t be settled in a month. But he’ll need us before we can do all that needs to be done here. That’s why you’re governor.”
“Go on,” suggested Quaeryt.
Skarpa shrugged. “I don’t claim to know much about governing, except it’s not often done well. The men who govern aren’t idiots, no matter what anyone says. That tells me that it’s not near as easy as it looks. There aren’t many who want good governors. Most want a governor who will help them. You’re not like that. I think Lord Bhayar wants you to clean up the place, but he doesn’t know how bad it got. No one would have dared to tell him. So he’s thinking that if you’ve got a regiment for a month or maybe two, you can take care of things. After that, sir, you’re on your own.”
“I’m getting that feeling.” Quaeryt paused. “Who’s likely to be the best officer here at the post for training? Once you depart, we’ll need more local troopers.”
“I’d try Undercaptain Shanyt. Came up the long way.”
“You already asked around, didn’t you?”
“Now, sir … would I be a decent commander if I didn’t learn the lay of the land?”
Quaeryt grinned, almost laughing at the mock innocence in Skarpa’s voice. Then he shook his head. “Thank you. And have you suggested to him that he start recruiting?”
“I think he might have lined up a score or so…”
Quaeryt was going to miss Skarpa, far more than he’d realized. “I appreciate that. We’ll need them.”
“He’s a good man. Make a good captain.”
