Rex Regis (16 page)

After riding back to the de facto Telaryn headquarters, and dismissing the imagers and the company from Eleventh Regiment, Quaeryt turned his mount over to an ostler, then crossed the courtyard and made his way into the library. From what he could tell most of the volumes remained.

After a quick study of the shelves, under the watchful eye of a junior squad leader, Quaeryt began with the thin volumes with the greatest height of spine. The first volume he took off the shelf was entitled
Plants of Varia
and contained drawings of various plants. The title, he realized, if belatedly, must have referred to the area around Variana. From the paper dust that rose when he opened the folio to the drawings, he wondered if “Varia” had been a separate land at one time. He didn’t recall any histories that mentioned that, but then he hadn’t read that much history about the western half of Lydar.
Was there ever that much written?

Then he forced himself to move through the volumes quickly. The seventh or eighth bound folio that he opened contained maps of Bovaria, although he had the impression that they had been drawn at least several decades earlier. He set that volume aside on a reading table and continued to look. After close to half a glass, he found two other volumes of maps, one of which included maps showing hills and mountains and even roads, although it was clear it had been drawn before the Great Canal had been built.

He picked up the three volumes and walked to the squad leader. “I’m taking these maps for duties required by Lord Bhayar. They’ll be at the Chateau Regis.”

“Yes, sir.”

Carrying the three volumes, Quaeryt walked from the library toward the stables where a half squad waited to escort him for the ride south to the Chateau Regis.

Quaeryt woke early on Solayi morning, out of uneasy dreams he could not remember.
At least, there was no ice … no dead troopers staring at you.
Rather than wake Vaelora by moving, he lay there, thinking, for what was likely a glass, trying to work out in his mind all he needed to do in the week ahead.

After dressing and a leisurely breakfast with Vaelora, in their chambers, he took out the three map folios he’d taken from Paitrak’s library, and he and Vaelora pored over them together.

Less than a quint into studying the maps, Vaelora looked at Quaeryt. “There aren’t any provincial or regional boundaries shown for Bovaria.”

“But the maps have the old provincial boundaries for Telaryn,” added Quaeryt. “If the mapmakers knew about those, then they would have drawn provincial boundaries for Bovaria … if Bovaria had provinces.”

“No one said they didn’t.”

“People don’t mention what doesn’t exist,” Quaeryt said dryly, “except for food and golds.”

“You thought they didn’t, though.”

“I did, but Bhayar’s going to need provincial governors, or the equivalent. That’s why I got the maps together. I wanted to see if we could figure out reasonable boundaries for governors before he’s forced into agreeing to governors’ territories by Deucalon or Myskyl … or just by necessity.”

“How many governors are you thinking about?”

“Telaryn had six, counting Tilbor. Bovaria isn’t as spread out, and a lot of the north doesn’t have many people, especially in the Montagnes D’Glace. I was thinking four, but I wanted to look at that map that shows the hills and mountains…”

“You know … this is just another thing…”

“I know. But you married me, and because of that, most of what we do will be forgotten or attributed to others. Calkoran mentioned that again the other day. The problem is that the alternative is worse.”

“He said that in Khel, too.” Vaelora smiled. “We’ll just have to make sure that brother dear gets the credit and not Deucalon or Myskyl.”

Somewhat more than a glass later, Quaeryt and Vaelora had sketched out rough boundaries for four regions of Bovaria, each with a larger town or city from which a regional governor could administer the surrounding area. Laaryn was one of those, and that would make an easy transition for whoever followed Meinyt, assuming Bhayar agreed to something at least similar to what Vaelora and Quaeryt had sketched out.

After that, he sent a messenger to have the duty squad ride to the Chateau Regis to meet them at the first glass of the afternoon. During the interim, he and Vaelora toured the Chateau Regis, taking notes on the still-vacant chambers of the large structure and determining where the best place for administration and logistics might be.

Both Quaeryt and Vaelora were on the front steps of the chateau a quint before the glass. The sky was slightly hazy, and a cool but not cold breeze blew out of the northeast.

“The entry and the drive look much better,” observed Vaelora.

“They should.” Quaeryt still didn’t like the raw dirt around the carriage park and bordering the new drive, but imaging wasn’t good for creating the growing plants for gardens and parks. That took gardeners and time.

“Where are we riding?”

“From the Chateau Regis along the road we’ll have to rebuild all the way to the River Aluse, then down along the west shore to the isle of piers.”

“You want to have a good look at what the imagers will need to do.”

“And a better look at this part of Variana. You might recall that I didn’t see all that much of it before we set out for Khel.”

Before long a squad from Eleventh Regiment rode up the west drive and reined up.

“Good afternoon, Lady, sir,” said the squad leader, inclining his head and motioning for a ranker to lead the black mare and gelding forward for Vaelora and Quaeryt to mount.

“Good afternoon,” replied Vaelora cheerfully before mounting.

Quaeryt just nodded, smiled, and mounted. Then he and Vaelora led the way down the eastern drive toward the old road and the north bridge over the River Aluse. Although the calendar date was the first of Avryl, the midpoint of spring, most of the trees were still leafing out, and many of the spring flowers were still budding.

Was that because of what you did?
Quaeryt half smiled at the thought, reminding himself that the trees and flowers had been leafing out just as slowly all the way along the last hundred milles of their ride along the Great Canal.

For the first half mille from the Chateau Regis, there were no dwellings, just the smoothed over remnants of earthworks that had been dug into what had been Rex Kharst’s park surrounding the chateau. Closer to the river there were modest shops and dwellings, and while some still showed damages, most of them seemed to be occupied, although there were few people on the streets, unsurprisingly for a Solayi afternoon.

When they neared the River Aluse, Quaeryt and Vaelora reined up short of the north bridge itself, and Quaeryt studied the old stone structure barely wide enough for two wagons side by side. “We need a better bridge.”

“The one south of the isle is worse,” said Vaelora.

“I haven’t seen it. You looked at it when I was recovering?”

“We came by the roads on the north side of the river. So we rode through Variana and over the south bridge. It’s narrower and older.”

“That figures. Neither Kharst nor any of his forbears wanted to spend much on roads or bridges-except for the road from Nordeau to Chateau Regis.” Quaeryt shook his head, then turned to the squad leader. “We’ll head south along the river road now.” What he called the river road was more like a cobbled lane.
Another imager project.

The river was still running high, well above its normal level. That, Quaeryt could tell because he could see that parts of a stone pathway on the east side of the river were almost a yard underwater.

Less than half a mille south of the north bridge, Quaeryt reined up to study the north end of the isle of piers, an expanse of mudflats, brush, and rubbish washed onto the flats, apparently by earlier spring runoff. The flats extended only twenty yards or so before ending in a rocky escarpment that rose at least a good five yards above the flats.

Quaeryt nodded. He’d thought that the majority of the isle was well above the river, and if the imagers built a stone retaining wall, almost like the prow of a ship, at the north end, that would help protect the rest of the isle as well.

After studying the northern part of the isle, he, Vaelora, and the duty squad continued southward until they reached a point opposite the middle of the isle, where he again called a halt.

“You’ll need a bridge across to the isle,” said Vaelora.

“I know. I’d thought about imaging one today, but…” He smiled wryly and shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Because as soon as there is a bridge, the poor and those with nowhere else to go will sneak across it in darkness, and that will make improving the isle just that much more difficult.” He didn’t mention that it was likely many of those who were homeless were likely so because of his own efforts in the battle of Variana.

As he looked across the river to the isle, amid the ruined buildings, toward the southern end of the isle, he thought he saw what might be-or have been-an anomen between two sagging warehouses … an old anomen.
Can you restore it?
He smiled at the thought, the idea that he wanted to restore the anomen to a deity he wasn’t certain even existed.
You’d better find a good chorister first, or you’ll end up being pressed into giving more homilies and conducting services.

“Why are you smiling?” asked Vaelora.

“There’s an old anomen over there in the ruins.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“I didn’t say you did,” he replied with a grin, “but you do have this penchant for fixing up anomens…”

“Only one.” She smiled back at him.

He shook his head ruefully, then said, “We should head back. I hope the south road to the chateau is in better repair.”

“It isn’t,” replied Vaelora.

“You would have to tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.”

They both smiled.

On Solayi evening, Quaeryt and Vaelora dined with Bhayar, who peppered them with questions about what they had observed on their journey back from Kephria. Their observations on the High Holders and factors led into Bhayar’s tales of the endless petitions he had received from factors, not to mention the suggestions for improving trade, and removing the tariffs on trade sent down the River Aluse to Solis. That Bhayar had received almost no communications from High Holders tended to confirm Quaeryt’s sense of how Kharst had ruled.

A quint before seventh glass on Lundi morning, Quaeryt was in Bhayar’s study.

“Deucalon will be here shortly,” announced Bhayar, standing beside his desk. “I thought you might have a few things you wanted to talk over first.”

“I do.” Quaeryt spread the rough map on the writing table, remaining on his feet. “This is the map we mentioned to you last night. It shows the boundaries for four regions of Bovaria, with regional governors located in Laaryn, Villerive, Rivages, and Asseroiles. In time, as roads improve, you might wish to change those cities, but all of them are located on rivers for access.”

Bhayar studied the map, then nodded. “I need to think about this.”

Quaeryt had expected no less, especially given the small number of regional governors he and Valeora had suggested. “There’s also the question of how soon you want me to begin as Minister of Administration and Supply. There are unoccupied studies on the main level”-
more than a few, in fact
-“but I’ll need clerks and some small amount of golds for tables and cases. Not to mention ledgers. I’m assuming that you don’t want me operating out of the headquarters holding.”

“Take the studies you need, and I’ll get you some golds.”

“Do you want me to take custody of the Bovarian treasury, or just draw on it?”

“Draw on it until you think you can handle it, and then we’ll talk again.”

“Also, I’d like to involve Vaelora. She has a good head, and she’s trustworthy.”
And I can trust her if you send me off somewhere.

Bhayar frowned, tilted his head, but finally nodded.

“I’m going to have to find clerks as well. I thought I’d ask for rankers or squad leaders who were wounded, leg injuries, and the like, who know their letters and numbers and who are well recommended. If there aren’t any … then I’ll have to look to local clerks from factors who’ve lost their master to failure or death.” From there Quaeryt went on, until he’d reached the last matter dealing with administration. “How do you want me to proceed in notifying the factors about their ‘token’ tariffs? I’d suggest my having letters prepared for your signature.”

“I’m agreeable to that. Anything that brings in more golds would be useful.”

“Has Deucalon said anything about Meinyt acting as a regional governor? Or Skarpa as acting governor of Antiago?”

“Only that he hopes such can be temporary.” Bhayar’s smile was sardonic.

“Temporary? In Antiago? When you still have a marshal as governor in Tilbor after twelve years?”

“Oh … he certainly thinks there will be a need for a governor there for years.”

“He’d prefer, perhaps, Commander Kharllon? Or would he like the position?”

“Kharllon, I would think,” replied Bhayar. “In time, Deucalon would likely prefer a high holding and the position of whatever regional governor whose territory includes the River Aluse from Ferravyl to Variana.”

“Deucalon might actually be adequate at that,” conceded Quaeryt.
Maybe.

Bhayar’s eyebrows lifted. “You’ve never cared for him. Why would you approve him as a regional governor?”

“Because the behaviors I dislike in him as a marshal are those that might make him useful as a governor. He’s cautious and deliberate.”
And I don’t want to give the impression of disliking all the old senior officers.
“Myskyl is the one I not only dislike, but distrust. When the time comes, if you have to, give him a high holding in the most distant locale possible, but one with a great deal of land, most of it rugged or inhospitable.”