Ordermaster (67 page)

   
"That is because Egen and the Hamorians have prepared the ground well."

"How soon?" asked Kharl.

   
Luryessa shrugged. "Soon, but I cannot name a date. It is not likely this eightday, but not impossible. You have changed everything."

"Me?"

   
"Oh . .. they do not know that. None of them do except Whetorak and his assistants, and Whetorak will say nothing until additional white wizards arrive. He has heard of your exploits in Austra, and he is most cautious. Otherwise, Egen would now be poised to take Brysta at the first true rains."

   
Kharl had surmised as much, but it was still a double shock to hear Luryessa's words-first, her casual revelation that she understood just who he was and, second, her confirmation that Egen and the Hamorians were indeed planning to topple Lord West.

   
"Egen feels his father is weak and that his brothers are little better . .." Luryessa noted.

"Whetorak is encouraging that, I would wager."

   
"I won't take that wager." The Sarrortnese smiled. "So what do you plan to do?"

Kharl really hadn't thought that through.

   
"Will you just watch? Or throw your abilities behind Osten and Lord West, incompetent as they are?"

"What would you do?" he countered. "You're a sorceress."

   
"I'm not in your class, Lord Kharl. Few are. That's why we're leaving. We could assassinate Egen, but the Hamorians would know we had. They'd make certain that all the world knew. That's why our departure will be soon and very public. I just hope that it's soon enough."

   
Kharl sat there for a time, silent. Once again, it seemed that he had created a bigger problem just by showing up and trying to find out what was happening. "A good envoy would have discovered all this without.. ." He broke off. He wasn't certain what he really meant.

   
"You're acting like too many men," Luryessa said dryly. "I expect better of you."

"You might explain that," Kharl replied, tartly.

   
"Oh. .. that's simple enough. You're here something like two eight-days, and you discover what it's taken the best envoys seasons to figure out, and because you don't have a ready solution, you're acting like it's all your fault. Men ... you can't stand it if you don't have an answer."

Kharl winced.

   
"Of course, you don't have an answer. You can't. No one could. You still don't know everything. I don't either." She smiled sardonically. "I don't have to have an answer. I just have to get my people out of here safely."

"And I don't?"

"Were you sent here to leave at the first sign of trouble?"

Kharl smiled wryly. "I wasn't given any instructions at all in that way."

"Exactly. Lord Hagen is counting on your sense of responsibility."

"How large a fleet?"

   
"Not large. More like a flotilla. Six or seven vessels. Only one troop transport."

"Is Lord Justicer Lurtedd still close to Osten?"

Luryessa frowned. "He will not cross Egen or Reynol."

"Would he warn Osten?"

"I would doubt that. He understands that Egen holds more power."

Kharl nodded slowly.

   
"I do not envy you, Lord Kharl. Anything you do will have adverse consequences."

"Some acts less than others, I would hope."

"That is always true. Do you have other questions that I can answer?"

   
Kharl knew he should have had scores, but he could think of few, although he knew he would come up with the most important ones only after Luryessa departed. "Where does Egen store his golds-the ones he uses to pay the patrollers?"

   
"I do not know that for certain, but a storehouse with barred windows and stone walls was erected in the post that serves the south road and the quarries. There is also an underground chamber in the main new barracks on the south side of the city."

   
"Is Whetorak truly in command of the Hamorian forces here? Will he remain so?"

  
 
"No. Submarshal Teorak-he is the assistant envoy in name-controls all armsmen and lancers and probably will command any additional forces landed in Nordla."

"Will this Hamorian flotilla try to conquer Surien as well?"

   
"They will not attempt anything unless there is no one with a claim to rule."

   
Kharl wasn't sure he liked that. The implication was that Osten or Vielam-or even Lord West-needed to survive, for any plan to block Hamorian control to be successful.

"I said that none of the choices would be good," Luryessa said.

"And you think I should do something?"

   
"I think nothing. I suggest nothing. I will say that a powerful black mage who is not from Reduce is the only hope for the West Quadrant not to fall under the iron fist of Hamor. And that is but a hope."

"Most of kind of you."

"You wanted my judgment, not my flattery."

Kharl sat there silently for a moment.

Luryessa stood. "If you have no more questions ..."

Kharl rose. "I should, but I can't think of any more."

   
"Do what you feel is right. Trust Egen to be himself, and the Hamori-ans to weigh and be patient, and you may have a chance to change what others think is inevitable." Luryessa smiled, faintly. "Good day, Lord Kharl. Our best wishes are with you."

Kharl turned and walked down the corridor to the portico, followed by

Jemelya. At the archway, he nodded to her, then walked toward the waiting carriage.

   
Once he was settled into the carriage, Kharl looked blankly at the faded green fabric above the seat across from him. What could he do? He had no ships. He had no lancers or armsmen. He didn't even know what Egen would do first-or when.

   
He paused. There was one thing he could do-and should have thought of earlier. He eased the carriage door open and leaned forward, calling to the driver. "Mantar!"

"Ser?"

"Take me to the Factors' Exchange!"

"The Factors' Exchange it is, ser."

Alynar looked at Kharl, but didn't speak.

   
"We might need a few more golds on hand," Kharl said. He wasn't certain the guard fully appreciated what he was saying, but Kharl didn't feel like explaining in more detail.

   
At the Factors' Exchange, Kharl managed to draw two hundred golds, claiming that the terms of his arrangement allowed two eightdays' draw at any one time. He doubted he'd get away with that again, but he hoped he wouldn't have to.

   
After the carriage left the Factors' Exchange, he tried to think about what was most likely to happen. While Egen would not need the Hamorian warships immediately, Kharl couldn't see the captain starting his revolt without them. At the very least, their long guns could reduce the Quad-rancy Keep, if necessary. Luryessa was right about the timing. If the rains came, then Osten and Lord West could not move their loyal troops against Brysta and Hagen's patrollers that easily.

   
A quick campaign would also end before harvest, and that would leave Egen with the full amount of the year's tariffs in his coffers. Then, mused Kharl, while Egen planned for a quick campaign, that did not mean it would be so-or that Whetorak and the Hamorians would want a quick resolution.

   
When Mantar brought the carriage to a halt at the residence, Kharl headed for the strong room inside. He'd no more than locked the door, after putting most of the golds in the chest, and gotten halfway up the rear steps to the back hall when he saw Khelaya standing there.

"Lord Kharl. .."

"What is it?"

   
"Best you talk to Enelya, ser. Some other tavern girl just left. The poor thing's sobbing her heart out, talking about leaving ..."

"Where is she?"

"In the back pantry. You need to see to her afore she goes off wild-like."

   
Kharl took a deep breath. "I'll do that." Even if dealing with a sobbing Enelya was the last thing he felt like doing.

   
Enelya looked up as he stepped into the pantry. Tears coursed down her cheeks. She swallowed.

"What is it?" asked Kharl.

Enelya just shuddered. She said nothing.

   
Kharl forced himself to be calm. Then he reached out with his order-senses, trying to create a sense of reassurance. "You can tell me now."

"Selda .. ." Enelya's eyes widened, but she said nothing more.

"What about Selda?"

   
"Nalona ... Marya ... they found her with her throat cut... all her fingers broken..."

   
Kharl had a feeling he knew who the woman was, but decided he should ask. "Selda? Who is Selda?"

"She was another server .. . White Pony ..."

"Long-faced, with blond hair?"

   
Enelya nodded, trying to stop sobbing. "... only friend . .. really ... except..." She closed her mouth abruptly.

"Except Jeka, you mean?"

Enelya gaped at Kharl.

"Did Selda know about Jeka?"

"Don't know what you're sayin', ser."

   
"I know about Jeka, and I know where she is-and where she was. If Selda knew . .. how safe will Jeka be? Did Selda know?" Kharl's voice was hard, demanding. "What did she know?"

   
"Only knew she-Jeka-was in trade ... somewhere on Crafters' Lane."

   
"Why was Egen after you? It wasn't just because you told him no, was it?"

   
"... told him no ... two things ... he was askin' about a girl dressin' as a boy . .. told me I was lyin' when I said I didn't know."

"Why would he care about that?"

"The old fellow ... the beggar .. . once was a cooper, they say ...

killed one of Egen's killers and got clean away ... Folks talk about it... guess it curdled him .. . folks saw 'em together ..."

   
Kharl swallowed. Then he straightened. "You'll still be safer here. Don't go anywhere. We'll talk later." Kharl turned. "Demyst! Alynar! Cevor! Erdyl!"

"Lord Kharl?" asked Khelaya.

   
"We've got-I've got-another problem. You and Fundal and Man-tar-make sure Enelya stays here. Tie her up of you have to, but she leaves here ... they'll get her, too."

"Who'll get her?"

   
Kharl decided to ignore the question. He wasn't certain he knew, except that they worked for Egen. Or maybe Egen himself had killed Selda. He'd always liked to hurt people. "I don't have time to explain now."

   
Leaving Khelaya standing in the back hall, Kharl hurried up the stairs to reclaim the sabrelike truncheon and sword belt. He was still belting it in place as he hurried back down the front staircase.

Demyst was standing in the corridor. "Ser?"

   
"We'll need the mounts. As soon as possible, and one extra." Kharl winced at those words. The last time he'd brought an extra mount had been for Warrl. He'd only been three seasons too late.

"Yes, ser."

   
Kharl followed the undercaptain out to the stable. He chafed at every moment it took to saddle the mounts, and at his own slowness in saddling the gentle gelding he'd ridden south. The drizzle had turned to mist, then lifted into low clouds that still suggested rain, but none was falling as he led the gelding from the stable and mounted.

   
Once they were away from the residence, and headed westward toward Crafters' Lane, higher on the harbor side of the hill, Kharl turned in the saddle to the undercaptain. "We're headed to the weaver's-Gharan's. Egen's after.. ." He paused. He'd never mentioned Jeka. "... someone there who helped me a lot. I need to get her out of there and warn Gharan."

"Yes, ser."

   
Kharl studied both sides of the street as they rode down from Sixth Cross. He didn't see any sign of patrollers nearby. For that he was glad as he reined up outside Gharan's shop. "Wait here," he told Demyst as he dismounted, and handed the gelding's reins to the undercaptain. "Let me know if any patrollers are headed this way."

Demyst nodded. "Erdyl can come get you."

Kharl hurried into the shop.

   
Gharan looked up from his loom. "Kharl? I mean, Lord Kharl. What is it?"

"Where's Jeka?"