Read Princeps: A Novel in the Imager Portfolio Online
Authors: L. E. Modesitt Jr.
All too soon, there was a knock on the door.
“Sir … the patrollers are here.” The ranker looked around the small study.
“If you’d direct them to the officers’ mess, we’ll meet there.”
Quaeryt gathered Jhalyt, gave him instructions, and the two walked to the officers’ mess.
With Jaramyr stood five other patrollers first. All were in uniform, and all viewed Quaeryt warily.
Projecting both friendliness and authority, Quaeryt gestured to the table. “Please sit down, patrollers. This is my chief clerk, Jhalyt. We’ll need him to re-create things like pay ledgers.” Quaeryt sat down at the end of the table. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Governor Quaeryt. I was the princeps of Tilbor, and when he heard of the troubles here, Lord Bhayar sent me here to be governor. For the past few days, I’ve been having regimental troops patrol the streets. As Jaramyr may have told you, I have the regimental engineers converting a factorage in the southeast into a patrol station. We needed a building you could use quickly, and it’s also removed from the area where the lava and ash might strike again.” He paused. “I’d like each of you to introduce yourself and tell me what duties you handled as a civic patroller. Jaramyr … you can start.”
The burly patroller swallowed, then spoke. “Jaramyr Delonsyn. Mostly, I was the senior patroller on the beats along the river from about a mille north of the piers down to the east bridge…”
“Chelsyr Catholsyn … senior patroller on beats north of the governor’s square…”
“Waollyt Aolsyn … senior patroller … west end south of the old palace…”
When he had heard from everyone there, he asked, “Do all of you intend to continue with the Civic Patrol?”
Nods went around the table.
Quaeryt looked to Jhalyt. “Did you get everyone’s name?”
“Yes, sir, except I’d like to check the spelling, sir.”
“After we finish, please verify your name with Jhalyt. Now … it appears as though no one was patrolling when we arrived. That tells me that, at present, I’ll have to appoint an acting chief from the regiment. Who that will be hasn’t been decided. For the moment I’m acting chief.” Quaeryt looked to the youngest man at the end of one side of the table. “Reyol, what is the pay of a patroller first when he initially becomes a first?” Quaeryt projected a touch of authority and the sense that lying would be unwise.
“Ah … a silver and two a week, sir.”
“Chelsyr … a senior patroller first?”
“Tops out at two silvers a week after fifteen years, sir.”
With several more questions, Quaeryt effectively had given Jhalyt enough information for a pay chart. “Now … when you verify your name, let Jhalyt know your years of service. If I find out that anyone lies, I’ll put you up before a justicer for theft. Is that clear? Now … Chelsyr … you have a duty roster?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d like you to go over that with Jhalyt afterward, with the names of patrollers likely to return and their ranks. You all will be paid. While you’re giving your information to Jhalyt, I’ll be getting your pay for the time from the Vendrei before the eruption to last Vendrei…”
All in all, the remaining details took close to a glass.
Then, after everyone left, considerably more cheerful, with coins in their wallets, and after more discussion with Jhalyt about revising the structure of the temporary pay roster for the Civic Patrol that Jhalyt and Heireg had created, Quaeryt had Jhalyt draft a set of tariff schedules and rules for Montagne, again based on the documents and records he’d had the foresight to have copied before he’d left Tilbora. That led to one other problem. Because Tilbor had been governed as a conquered province, all the administration had been handled by the regiment. In Montagne, as in all other provinces, the governor’s clerks were all hired by the governor … or the princeps … or the chief clerk, and that meant setting up another structure and set of ledgers.
When he returned to his own study, Quaeryt was still considering the possibility that such records might have survived, although his experience in entering the governor’s building had suggested that probability was close to nonexistent. Even if some had survived under the ash in the lower level, he doubted that more than a few would be readable, and he certainly didn’t have the time to go looking for them.
There was a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
The two clerks eased the door open and stepped inside.
“Sir … there are several other things,” began Jhalyt.
“I’m sure there are.” Quaeryt grinned wryly. “What have I overlooked? Or what am I about to overlook?”
“Vendrei will be the last day of Maris, sir.”
For just a moment, Quaeryt wondered why the chief clerk was offering a calendar. Then he realized the reason. “We haven’t finished setting up the master pay accounts, have we?”
“I have the accounts set up, sir. The regiment keeps their own ledger, and so does the post. I know how much we’ll need. It’s a month’s worth for the regiment, and just a week’s worth for the post personnel. After Vendrei, we’d planned to disburse weekly for the regiment while they’re quartered here. That’s the way…”
“I know that. Have you drafted approval forms for me to authorize?”
“Mostly, sir, but I thought you’d like to see the figures. Also, you directed me as how to set up your accounts as governor, but you didn’t mention what your stipend and monthly expense draw would be … or what level…”
“Or what level you’d be paid at?” Quaeryt smiled faintly. “Caell was chief clerk, didn’t you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you happen to know what his pay was? When he became chief clerk?”
“I know he was paid a half gold a week as chief clerk the past two years. Before that … I don’t know.”
“Did he have an expense draw?”
“No, sir. He got an additional silver a week for food and lodging.”
“But you didn’t as his assistant?”
“No, sir.”
“What were you making as his assistant?”
“Three silvers a week.”
“Then put yourself down for half gold a week in pay.” Quaeryt paused. “Do you or did you have a home…”
“No, sir. Couldn’t afford one. Not in Extela. I rented a room on the west side. The place is gone.”
“For now, then, since you’re being fed by the post and have a bunk here, you don’t need to pay for lodging and food. Once you both find other places, we’ll talk over adjustments.”
“Thank you, sir.” The chief clerk inclined his head deeply.
“Baharyt … we’ll pay you two silvers a week for now. After a month, the chief clerk and I will review how you’re doing.” Quaeryt was being more than fair, because he’d gathered the young man had barely been working as an apprentice bookkeeper and inventory clerk for three months.
“Thank you, sir!”
“You can go. I need to go over a few more things with Jhalyt.”
Once Baharyt had closed the door, Quaeryt looked to the chief clerk.
“He was paid a silver and three. He’ll get better.” Jhalyt offered a half smile.
“About the regiment and post, first,” suggested Quaeryt.
“Yes, sir.” Jhalyt slid a sheet across the desk.
Quaeryt looked at the figures in neat columns, and then at the totals. Once again, he managed not to swallow.
Two thousand and eleven golds in pay, and three hundred golds in projected supply costs.
At least he’d recovered the chests from the treasury strong room. “The next tariffs aren’t due until the end of Mayas, either,” he mused.
What are you missing?
“The second week of Juyn, actually, sir.”
A month and a half … with no revenue.
And likely the tariffs would be low, although not that low, since the collections in Montagne and areas away from Extela shouldn’t suffer that much. “Do you know what the midyear tariffs bring?”
“Not exactly, sir. Caell said they were only about a third of all the year’s tariffs. Many were paid late, also.”
Quaeryt waited.
“I don’t know for certain, sir, because Caell and the governor kept those ledgers to themselves, but I heard figures now and again. I’d guess … I’m only guessing … that the governor collected some fifteen to twenty thousand golds a year.”
At close to two thousand golds a month, just for regimental pay, Quaeryt realized he couldn’t keep the regiment in Extela for more than a few months—not without requesting payments from Bhayar. He also understood why the post had so few troopers for its size. Then he realized what he’d forgotten. “The regiment should be paying their own men out of what they brought with them. Through the end of Maris, anyway.”
“Yes, sir. I checked with Captain Dimeark. They’ll pay nineteen hundred and seventeen golds…”
Quaeryt almost sighed in relief.
“… but you still have to authorize it. You’ll have to pay them from the treasury here from Avryl on, until they’re transferred to Solis or wherever they’ll be stationed.”
Still, that meant the immediate loss to what he’d saved of the treasury was still almost four hundred golds.
“There’s the matter of your stipend, sir.”
Quaeryt had wondered about that himself. As princeps of Tilbor, Quaeryt had gotten luxurious quarters and been paid five golds a week, ten times what he’d made as a scholar assistant, and half what Straesyr made as both marshal and governor—and as princeps, he hadn’t even had to pay an officer’s mess bill. He’d been stunned by the pay, but Straesyr had told him that most princeps made far more, because the other governors were free to set up their own budgets, so long as they met the guidelines established by Lord Bhayar and his minister of finance. Unfortunately, Quaeryt didn’t have those guidelines, because those in the governor’s square were either ashes or buried under the ash, and there hadn’t been any in Tilbora because they hadn’t applied to Tilbor.
“I have to confess, Jhalyt, I hadn’t thought about that. Tilbor is run on a military basis. Do you happen to recall the basis for pay guidelines?”
“No, sir.” A small smile appeared. “I do know that the princeps drew ten golds a week, and he once said that he earned less than a tenth part of what the governor did.”
A hundred golds a week? Or more?
Quaeryt managed to keep from showing astonishment. No wonder so many wanted to be governors! He managed to smile. “I don’t think Montagne, and Extela especially, can afford to pay a governor that much. Not at present or in the very near future. For the moment, put me down for twenty-five golds a week.” That was a calculated amount.
“Just … twenty-five, sir?”
“For now. I reserve the right to increase it if matters improve.” He smiled again, ironically. “How can I take a larger amount when I’m asking everyone else to hold down their prices and what they receive?”
“Begging your pardon, Governor, sir, there’s many that wouldn’t even think that, sir. Most, in fact.”
“Then we’ll just have to change a few minds, won’t we?”
There was silence in the small study for several long moments.
“Sir … word is that you grew up with Lord Bhayar…”
“You want to know if it’s true? We’ve known each other for over fifteen years, and we had the same tutor. I wouldn’t say that we grew up together. I was trained as a scholar, and then went to sea, and then came back to being a scholar, and then a scholar assistant to Bhayar before he dispatched me to Tilbor.”
“And you fought in the wars there?”
“Just the last one.”
“And your lady?”
“She’s Bhayar’s youngest sister.” Quaeryt smiled wryly. “The marriage was his doing. Fortunately, we’re well suited to each other.”
Jhalyt swallowed. “Sir … there might be some things you need to know … about the old governor, I mean.”
“I’m sure there are, and I’d like to hear what you have to say. The more I know, the more I can avoid unnecessary difficulties.” Quaeryt waited.
“Yes, sir.” Several moments passed before Jhalyt spoke again. “Governor Scythn … there were two sets of ledgers…”
After hearing what Scythn had drawn as his pay, Quaeryt was scarcely surprised as Jhalyt revealed the means by which the former governor had drawn almost double what he’d reported to Bhayar, and how the former princeps had drawn triple his stated pay. When the chief clerk finished, Quaeryt nodded. “Thank you. In a way, that’s very good.”
The slightest frown creased the clerk’s brow.
“It means that in time we’ll have more golds to work with. We just have to get through the next few months.” He rose. “If you’d go find Major Heireg, I’ll meet you outside the strong room. We need to count the rest of what’s in those chests.”
“Yes, sir.”
In the end, between them, the other four chests contained 12,041 golds, 643 silvers, and 561 coppers. Quaeryt had just over fifteen thousand golds in the provincial treasury, a sum that made him more than a little nervous, but he also understood why provincial governors didn’t like to maintain many soldiers … and, belatedly, why Rescalyn had thought he could have gotten away with what he’d planned.
A little after the third glass of the afternoon, Quaeryt was once more seated in the study that had been a regimental commander’s, studying an old map of Extela, and adding to his notes of what areas were totally covered in ash or lava and where major repairs were needed.
There was a knock on the door, and a ranker stood there, holding an envelope. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a messenger here from High Holder Thysor. He sent this. The messenger will be waiting for your reply, he said.”
Quaeryt rose, crossed the small room, and took the envelope. “Thank you. I’ll have a response as soon as possible. If you’d see that he gets something to eat and drink and that his mount is watered?”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt opened the envelope and began to read.
Governor Quaeryt,
I would very much have liked to have met you when you called on me, but as my steward doubtless told you, I was in the south inspecting timber stands to see which areas would best be logged over the summer and did not return until late yesterday …