The master of the Seafox backed down the paddle wheels expertly, and the vessel came to rest less than three cubits from the pier. Dorwan and Norgal caught the lines and made them fast to the bollards.
"Walk her in! Lively now!" came the commands from the deck.
When the gangway was down, Hagen was the first one onto the water-whitened timbers of the pier.
Kharl stepped forward, inclining his head to Hagen, out of respect for both the man and the office. "Lord-chancellor."
"Ser Kharl and mage." Hagen smiled broadly. "No sooner than you're °ut of sight, and you're back in working grays." He shook his head in mock-despair.
"I don't see any lord-chancellor's finery on you, ser," Kharl replied.
"Not in traveling," Hagen said with a laugh. "What's your excuse, ser Kharl?"
"I was working on turning part of a barn into a cooperage. If we make our own barrels, we can bring in more coins from the wine. We can also save on storage barrels...."
Hagen shook his head. "Lord Ghrant will be disappointed to hear that his mage has returned to coopering."
"I can't be a mage all the time, not when matters here are peaceful." Kharl gestured toward the Seafox. "I'm not sure that we have any cargo for your ship." He turned toward the steward. "Speltar? Do we have cargo that should go?"
"Not right now, ser."
"That makes us even," replied Hagen. "We don't have anything to offload, either. Or so I'm told."
Kharl gestured toward the house. "Would you like to see the house? You haven't seen it before, have you?"
"No. I wasn't exactly favored by either Lord Julon or Lord Estloch." Hagen's voice was dry. "I'd like to see it. I do need a few words with you, as well. That's why I'm here, but we can talk while you give me a private tour."
Kharl caught the slight emphasis on private. Of course, Hagen had a reason for stopping in Cantyl. He turned to Speltar. "Speltar, if you and Rona would let Adelya know that the lord-chancellor will be having the midday meal with me. We'll eat in the breakfast room, just the two of us."
"Yes, ser."
As Rona and Speltar hurried ahead of them, Kharl and Hagen started up the lane toward the house at a more measured pace.
After several moments, Kharl glanced at Hagen. "You can stay for a midday meal, at least, can't you? I didn't ask you ... I just thought..." His eyes flicked back, but Dorwan and Norgal had remained on the pier.
"That would be about all," replied Hagen, with a laugh. "Lord Ghrant expects me for tomorrow afternoon's audience." Hagen paused. "He expects you as well."
"Me?"
Lord Ghrant had told Kharl his services might be required, but within two eightdays of coming to Cantyl?
"He has a problem," Hagen said. "The problem is Guillam."
"The head of the factors' council?" As Kharl recalled, perhaps accord-
ing to Lyras, the black mage who had claimed he was but a minor mage, if that, Guillam had been quietly backing Ilteron and had slipped out of Val-murl during the revolt.
"Guillam claims that he is a most faithful subject. For obvious reasons, Lord Ghrant has his doubts. You are known to be a mage, and Lord Ghrant wishes you present when he receives Guillam."
"He expects I will know if Guillam lies, then?"
"Will you not? You knew when Asolf was lying about stealing Reisl's coins."
Again, Kharl was reminded of how thorough Hagen was, and how he had known everything aboard the Seastag. Doubtless, that attention to detail was what had made him the owner of ten ships and lord-chancellor. "I usually can tell."
"That could be a problem," mused Hagen.
"That I might not be able to tell?"
"No. That you could. Let us say that Guillam did support Ilteron. What else can Lord Ghrant do but execute or exile him?" Hagen cocked his head, waiting for an answer from Kharl.
"If he does either, then, that will upset the other factors."
"All regarded Ghrant as weak."
"He still is," suggested Kharl. "He has a strong lord-chancellor."
"And a black mage," added Hagen.
"So ... you are suggesting that my presence is more important than my judgment?"
"Your presence is most important."
Kharl realized that. It had to be, with Hagen diverting one of his ships to get Kharl. "Does it matter so much what Guillam has done as what he will do? Does his past matter as much as his loyalty?"
Hagen fingered his chin, smiling broadly. "So you would have him questioned about both his past and his loyalty?"
"If he lies about his past, but honestly believes that he is loyal," Kharl said slowly, "Lord Ghrant might overlook his lies."
"That is possible, but what if Guillam lies about his loyalty?"
"Then Ghrant is better off if he is dead or exiled, I would judge," Kharl replied carefully.
'Dead. Traitorous exiles can return."
Kharl wasn't so sure that he liked having Guillam's life put in his hands.
"You see, Kharl," Hagen went on, "there is a price to wealth and position. There is always a price. Those who do not attain either seldom see that price, and at times, the price is deferred, often for generations, but when it is deferred the cost falls upon the descendants manyfold."
Kharl couldn't help but wonder if Lord West of Nordla and his sons had ever paid such a price, or if it had been deferred in the manner Hagen suggested.
Adelya hurried up as Kharl and Hagen stepped onto the front porch. "Ser Kharl... ser Kharl.. ." Abruptly, she stopped and bowed. "Lord-chancellor ... I'd not be meaning ..."
"Whatever we have will be fine," Kharl said to Adelya. "I didn't know that Lord Hagen was coming, and he didn't know before yesterday. That didn't give him time to send a messenger."
"Whatever you cook will be far better than we ate on board ship."
Adelya did not look mollified, not completely.
"I'll come back-with notice-for one of your finest meals," Hagen offered with a smile. "Then you will have time to offer your best."
Adelya bowed again. "Your lordship is most kind."
"Please don't blame Lord Kharl. He did not know I was coming."
Kharl could hear the words under her breath as Adelya backed away, "But he's a mage...." He resisted replying.
Hagen laughed softly. "You see. There is a price for being a mage, too. People come to expect the impossible."
"She isn't happy that I like working with my hands."
"People aren't ever happy when you don't meet their expectations." Hagen's voice was matter-of-fact, almost dismissive. "How do you find Cantyl?"
Kharl gestured toward the bay. "It's more than I ever expected. I'm still learning about the lands, and I haven't been through all the timberlands and the southern hills yet."
"If you do, you'll have seen more of them than any of the lords who've held Cantyl in generations," Hagen said dryly.
"How can a man not know his lands?" asked Kharl.
"That's a good question. It's also why at least some of them didn't keep them."
"Let me show you the house and the nearer outbuildings," offered Kharl.
"If you would..."
Kharl began the informal tour by showing Hagen the first-floor study with the wide window overlooking the bay, directly below the master suite, which had an even grander view, and took him through the entire two-story stone structure. By the time they had walked through the house, toured the barns, viewed the vineyards, and returned to the house, the midday meal was waiting.
Adelya hovered in the archway as the two seated themselves.
"This looks to be a feast, not a midday meal!" Hagen exclaimed, taking in the platters that Adelya set between them, with cutlets, fowl breasts, cheese lace potatoes, honeyed pearapples, and rye and dark bread with the honey-butter that was Adelya's pride. There were two goblets, with a pitcher of Cantyl's full red wine set on one side of the table.
"It's little enough, ser."
"It's a great deal, Adelya," Kharl said firmly, "and we both appreciate it. Thank you."
"I am hungry," Hagen admitted as he began to serve himself, "and we won't have anything near this good on the return voyage to Valmurl."
"How long will that take?"
"We'll be using both the engines and sails. If the winds hold, we might reach the harbor by midnight."
Kharl filled both goblets, then lifted one. "To you, for all of this ..."
Hagen flushed as he lifted his goblet. "To you, ser Kharl... for saving Austra."
"And to friendship ..."
Hagen nodded, then took a sip of the wine. "It's a good solid wine."
"I like it. Glyan says that the Rhynn is better, but to me, they're both good." Kharl broke off a chunk of the dark bread and passed the basket to the other. "Do you know how Tarkyn, Furwyl, and Rhylla are doing?"
"The Seastag is on its way to Land's End on Reduce. Only want to port there in spring and summer. I heard that there was some black wool to be had there. Doesn't come on the market often. A good weaver can make cloth for a lord from it."
At the reference to weavers, Kharl couldn't help thinking about Jeka, wondering how she was doing with Gharan-hoping that she had been able to stay with his former neighbor. He just wished he'd been able to do more for Jeka. She'd certainly saved his life and befriended him at a time when no one else would lift a hand. Beneath the hard surface ...
"Kharl?"
"I'm sorry. I was . .. thinking. Was everyone all right when they cast off from Valmurl?"
"Furwyl left a report for me, and everything was fine. He did say that he needed to look for another carpenter. Tarkyn was complaining that there was too much work for any one carpenter." Hagen shook his head. "No one will ever be as good a ship's carpenter as you were, not for Tarkyn."
"Nothing is ever as good as it was," Kharl said dryly. "Even when it wasn't that good."
"You are almost as cynical as I am, ser mage." Hagen took another sip of wine. "That's saying a great deal."
Kharl feared he would need that cynicism when he reached Valmurl.
II
I hrapl
"Ser Kharl? Ser Kharl?"
Kharl struggled out of sleep. Where was he? How early was it?
"Ser Kharl?" The feminine voice was unfamiliar.
He squinted in the light pouring into the unfamiliar bedchamber, before everything came back. He was in the north wing of Lord Ghrant's Great House. For just himself, he had not only a large bedchamber, but a sitting room with a desk, as well as a lavishly equipped bath chamber.
"Ser?"
"Coming..." Kharl pulled himself out of the triple-width bed and yanked on his traveling trousers, shambling through the sitting room to the door, aware of the old but thick carpet beneath his bare feet.
"Your breakfast, sir."
Kharl concentrated, hard as it was, with his order-senses, but so far as he could tell, the young woman stood alone outside his door. He eased the lock plate back. A dark-haired young woman, barely out of girlhood, stood there holding an enormous tray.
"If you'd let me bring it in, ser. If you would, ser."
Kharl watched as she eased through the doorway and set the tray on the table desk. "Thank you."
"My pleasure, ser." The girl bowed and slipped away.
After locking the door again, Kharl crossed the sitting room. He looked at the tray, taking in the slices of ham, the egg toast, fillets of some sort of fish, a basket of black bread, a pot of jam, and the twin pitchers, one of pale ale, and the other of cider, with an empty beaker. He hadn't expected a breakfast to be delivered, but he couldn't say he was displeased, not as late as he had arrived in Valmurl the night before.