Antiagon Fire (16 page)

Voryn nodded, his wide-spaced eyes wary.

“How often does that happen?”

“Not often. Maybe three-four times in the past few years. Called in more muscle this morning, though.”

“Who pays for you and your crew when that happens?”

“Factors’ council.”

“Who’s on the council?”

“Don’t know them all. Old factor Coryt … Aelsam, Yudrow … Barkudan. Those are the ones I know.”

“What other factors use the canal for shipping, enough to need a crew…”

Quaeryt continued with his questions.

Three glasses later, Quaeryt decided he’d heard enough. He’d also finished quick interrogations with those the rankers had rounded up—more than ten young factors or factors’ assistants, and more than a score of hired bravos or loaders.

Once the last of the assistants was out of the chamber, he sent word to Zhelan to have the imagers open the sealed warehouse and to bring all those inside to the inn for questioning. Then he requested that Skarpa and Vaelora join him. He was pacing around the plaques table when they arrived and closed the door behind themselves.

Skarpa said nothing, just looked at Quaeryt inquiringly.

“I’m sure we don’t know everything. From what I’ve heard, this isn’t the first time the factors have closed the canal. They’ve done the same thing before, once for almost two weeks.”

“Just to keep their prices higher?” asked Skarpa.

Vaelora only nodded, sadly.

“The one thing that’s strange is that someone called in more bravos—and paid them—this morning. None of the bravos knew who had paid. They didn’t recognize the man who had the silvers.” Quaeryt frowned. “That doesn’t make much sense. Why would they do that with Southern Army marching toward Laaryn?”

“Maybe someone else did,” suggested Vaelora.

Quaeryt shook his head. “Of course.”

Skarpa glanced from Quaeryt to Vaelora and back again. “Of course?”

“Someone who’s not happy with the canal closings paid for more bravos … either to make things seem worse than they were or to make certain we did something to stop the closings.” Quaeryt shrugged. “We may have trouble finding out who that was. I think it’s time to talk to the factors we walled up. I’ve already sent for them.”

“Do you want either of us there?” asked Skarpa.

“Not now. I might need Vaelora before long, though.”

“Me? A mere woman?”

Quaeryt managed to avoid wincing. “An envoy and sister of the mighty Lord Bhayar, far more prestigious than a mere commander, of whom there are many.”

Vaelora did smile. “I’ll take my leisure in the other plaques room.”

“That’s a very good idea … but not until we get word that the factors have arrived.” He turned to Skarpa. “What do you think about the whole matter?”

“From what I’ve seen, the factors here are wealthy. They were surprised that we offered no deference to them.”

“I don’t think many of them have ever seen troopers,” added Vaelora. “The children peer out of windows at them.”

Quaeryt found himself frowning.
How had Kharst kept order, especially given the nature of his High Holders?

“There are also no High Holders close to Laaryn,” added Skarpa. “The scouts report that the closest high holding is fifteen miles north.”

The silence that followed was broken by a knock. Then Zhelan eased the door open. “Sirs, Lady Vaelora … the captives from the warehouse are outside on the porch.”

Skarpa rose, as did Vaelora.

“Send in the white-bearded town councilor first,” instructed Quaeryt as he rose, “after the submarshal and Lady Vaelora leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vaelora gave Quaeryt a parting smile. Skarpa shook his head as he left.

A short time later Moraes—the white-bearded town councilor—stepped gingerly into the plaques room. He peered at Quaeryt, then shuffled forward. “Sir … you’re the officer who walled us up. I tell you, sir, it wasn’t my idea to close the canal.”

“This time or all the other times?” asked Quaeryt dryly.

Moraes was silent.

So was Quaeryt.

Finally, the older man cleared his throat. “What would you have me do, sir? No one dares go against the factors’ council.”

“Why not?”

“Things … happen to those who do. Unfortunate things … dwellings burn … dray horses sicken … accidents happen to children … shipments of goods vanish…” Moraes did not meet Quaeryt’s eyes.

“Who serves on the factors’ council?”

“The wealthy factors.”

“Who?”

“Aelsam, Fuadan, Coryt, Barkudan, and Yudrow.”

“Just five men?”

“There have always been five.”

“Moraes … do you have civil patrollers here in Laaryn?”

The councilor looked totally confused. Finally, he asked, “How did you know my name?”

“I’m good at listening. About the patrollers? Do you have them? I didn’t see any.”

“Yes, sir. We do.”

“Why weren’t they blocking off the canal?”

“The piers and warehouses in the town alongside the canal belong to the factors’ council or to various factors. The patrollers only keep order on the streets.”

“The factors’ bravos were on the streets blocking access to the canal. Where were the patrollers?”

“I’m certain they were there somewhere.” Moraes wet his lips nervously.

Quaeryt couldn’t help but wonder if some of the bravos were actually patrollers, especially given how suspiciously well groomed a number of them had been. He decided to keep those thoughts to himself. It wouldn’t have been the first time patrollers supplemented their pay by using their skills in other capacities. Or that those with wealth or power subverted the patrollers to their own ends. “How is the town council chosen?”

“The guilds choose two members, and the factors three. It’s always been that way. As long as I can remember.”

“You were chosen by the factors, I take it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the factors tell the town council when to close the canal?”

“No, sir. The canal in Laaryn is under the authority of the factors’ council.”

More inquiry revealed little new, but that might well have been because he didn’t know enough to ask the right questions, and he finally dismissed Moraes back to custody. The next factor—thin, brown-haired, and intense in his expression—gave his name as Phaelan.

“What was your role in closing the Great Canal?” asked Quaeryt.

“My role, sir? I had none. The factors’ council decides when to close the Great Canal.”

“And you agreed with that decision?”

“I didn’t question the factors’ council, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re the council.” Phaelan’s expression conveyed a very definite message that questioning the council just wasn’t done.

“Which factor is the head of the council?”

“There’s no head. I suppose Barkudan has the most influence.”

“Were they all caught with you in the warehouse?”

Phaelan shook his head “Barkudan and Coryt were there. I didn’t see Yudrow or Fuadan. Aelsam wasn’t there. He’s recovering from a flux, I heard.”

“Who pays the patrollers?”

“The town council.”

“Where do they get the funds?”

“Most of the silvers come from the canal passage tariffs.”

Quaeryt questioned Phaelan for another quint, then sent him back to the other captives.

The next two captives he saw were the two bravos who’d escorted Moraes. They had little to add, except that they’d been paid to protect the councilor. Quaeryt had some thoughts about what was meant by “protection,” but both men insisted that their only task had been to accompany Moraes and to escort him back to report to Barkudan … and Barkudan was among those Quaeryt had not yet questioned.

After that, a younger factor with bruises on his face appeared. While Quaeryt couldn’t be certain, he thought the man was the one who had attacked him with a blade.

“Your name?”

“Yudryt, Commander.”

At least he recalls what I am.

“Can you tell me why the factors thought to deceive us about the reason why the Great Canal was closed?”

“They were worried. They thought that you might delay in arriving if you thought there were armed men holding innocents.”

“Why were they worried?”

“I could not say.”

That’s a lie.
“Why might they have been worried?”

“There was word that when people resisted, Lord Bhayar froze them to death.”

That’s not much better.
“If they believed that, why did they not immediately just say that the canal had been closed and would reopen shortly?”

“I don’t know. No one said. They were worried, but no one could say why.”

“Are you the son of one of the factors on the council?”

For a moment Yudryt was silent.

Again, Quaeryt waited.

“Yes. Yudrow is my father.”

“And he didn’t tell you why the council had the councilor tell the submarshal the lie about rebel Bovarian troopers?”

“He didn’t tell me anything except to meet him in the council warehouse.”

Quaeryt strongly doubted that.

Young Yudryt had very little else to reveal, and Quaeryt dismissed him.

The next factor was Coryt, the man who had pulled the pistol on Quaeryt.

“Why did you tell the submarshal that stupid story about rebelling troopers?”

“I didn’t. Barkudan told Moraes to stall—”

“Why?”

“We didn’t expect a Telaryn army marching along the Great Canal and demanding that it be opened immediately. If Lord Bhayar wanted to change the way the canal is operated, he should have let us know.” Coryt’s tone was polite, with an undercurrent of puzzlement, and a faint hint of the accusatory.

“He did. He sent us. Instead of saying that you’d open the canal immediately, you came up with a stupid story and tried to stall us. When I announced who I was, you tried to shoot me.” Quaeryt smiled coolly.

“We didn’t believe you, I’m sorry to say, but brigands have tried ruses for years.”

“I take it that you close the canal whenever prices get too low in Variana?”

“No. Just when we believe that closing it will stabilize prices and keep grain and flour from flooding the market.”

“And Rex Kharst was aware of this?”

“Of course. We’d have been fools to do something he didn’t approve of.”

Kharst approved of this?
Quaeryt managed to keep his expression impassive. “Why did you order the lockman bound and chained in the lock house? He would have died.”

“The lockman was bound and chained? That’s not anything I know about.”

“You didn’t know? And you’re on the factors’ council?”

“The lockmaster handles things like that. I’ve told you what I know.”

Quaeryt had his doubts, but he didn’t know enough to ask the questions that would trip up someone as smooth and sharp as Coryt.

The last factor was the tall and stout graybeard, whom Quaeryt recalled from the warehouse by the brocade jacket and black trousers with a silver stripe. “You are?”

“Barkudan D’Factorius of Laaryn. Might I ask why you have treated us so shabbily?”

Quaeryt ignored the question and the condescension behind it, as well as an arrogance that suggested Barkudan was used to being able to order Kharst’s officers around. “Why did you close the Great Canal?”

“For the usual reasons.”

“The usual reasons?” asked Quaeryt ironically.

“To keep the price of grain and flour up. That way, Commander, Rex Kharst received more golds in tariffs when the goods were delivered and sold in Variana.”

Kharst agreed to that scheme?
“The problem with that is that everyone else is inconvenienced, and those who are the poorest pay the most.” That had been one of the problems in Extela.
And here it is again in a different guise.

“That is indeed a problem if one is poor, but we should not have to lose golds because there are those who are poor.”

Quaeryt decided to be dense. “Lose golds? How can you lose golds when you already have the grain? If the price is lower than what you purchased it at, all you have to do is wait.”

“We might wait months, Commander, and we still have to pay our warehousemen, our loaders, our drivers … We might have to let them go, and that means more people are poor and without food. No … it is much better to keep the prices as stable as we can … not that such would be a concern for a fighting man.”

“All of that makes sense from your point of view, but there are several things that don’t. For example, why was a lockman bound and gagged and left chained inside a lock house?”

“I doubt that was the case,” Barkudan replied smoothly. “If someone was there when the canal was closed, they should not have been. The man doubtless was drinking and fell asleep there. No one noticed him when everything was locked up. It would have been an unfortunate accident, except for the fact that your men came along. He should be most grateful.”

“Men who are drinking don’t tie themselves to chairs and gag themselves.”

Barkudan shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

Yes, you would, you slimy bastard.
“To whom does the lockmaster report?”

“To the factors’ council. We pay them for doing their duties.”

“And you knew nothing about the lockman?”

“I knew nothing until you told me.”

Quaeryt could see that none of the factors were about to admit or acknowledge anything about the unfortunate lockman … or anything else, regardless of any pressure he could apply. He smiled, coldly. “You have repeatedly told the people of Laaryn and those trying to ship cargo from other places that the canal was closed for reasons that were untrue. You attempted to increase the golds in your coffers by lying. That is fraud, whether or not Rex Kharst approved or not. Doing so in war amounts to treason. The penalty for treason is death.”

Barkudan swallowed. “You … you do not have the authority … not when we were carrying out Rex Kharst’s wishes.”

“Assuming that happened to be the case, that argument only had validity until you were aware that Lord Bhayar wished otherwise, yet all of you did nothing to accede to his requirements. Instead, you compounded your failures by lying to Lord Bhayar’s representatives. As for authority, I have the authority of a senior officer commissioned by Lord Bhayar.”