Scholar: A Novel in the Imager Portfolio (56 page)

“Do you know what happened?”

“No, sir.” Both shook their heads.

Quaeryt dismounted, then handed the mare’s reins to the nearer ranker. “I could be several glasses.”

“We’ll be near the officers’ stable, sir.”

“Good.”

The scholar turned and, after another look in the direction of the northern part of the courtyard and the funeral party, headed toward the door to the palace.

The duty squad leader looked up from the table desk. “Scholar, sir?”

“What happened? The funeral party?”

“One of the governor’s messengers got careless yesterday afternoon. He was running an errand. He slipped and went over one of the railings in the palace … fell and hit his head on the stone below.”

“Who was it?”

“Kellear … he was used mostly as a messenger. Nice young man … very pleasant.”

Kellear … Kellear … Quaeryt had heard that name before. He knew he had. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Accidents happen, sir. We wish they didn’t, but they do.”

Quaeryt nodded, still puzzling over where he’d heard the name. From the foyer of the palace, he headed down the main corridor and then up the main stairs to the governor’s study. At the top, he paused. The railing was more than waist-high … and what sort of errand was a ranker running on Solayi, not that the governor couldn’t order it? There was also the fact that no one besides the ranker—and the governor—would likely have been in the area above the stairs.

At that moment, he recalled where he’d heard the name before … and from whose lips. He stiffened, then took a deep breath, before resuming his steps toward the governor’s anteroom, hoping that his deliberate breach of the implied chain of command would yield the results he needed to verify his suspicions.

Undercaptain Caermyt’s mouth opened as Quaeryt walked into the anteroom.

“I’m here to report to the governor,” announced Quaeryt. “Some matters have come up, of which I feel he should be aware.”

“Yes, sir … I’ll tell him that you’re here.” The undercaptain rose and walked to the study door, where he knocked. “Scholar Quaeryt is here to report to you.”

There was a silence, followed by the words “Have him come in.”

Caermyt opened the door and stepped back slightly.

Quaeryt walked to the study, took the door, effectively from Caermyt’s hand, closed it, firmly if quietly, behind him, and entered the chamber. He walked to the desk and inclined his head politely. “Sir.”

“I must say I am surprised to see you here so soon, scholar.” Rescalyn did not rise from behind his table desk.

Behind Rescalyn’s smile, Quaeryt sensed there was another emotion. Whether anger, consternation, or concern, he wasn’t certain, but he’d definitely gotten a reaction by his presence, and now it was time to see if he could provoke the governor into revealing more.

“I assume you read my report about the hidden armory, sir.”

“I did. Surely, you did not ride across Tilbora to question me on what I read?”

“Oh, no, sir. But, after I sent you the first report, I had time to do an even more thorough investigation of the buildings, and I thought you should know immediately of the results.”

“A written report, sent through the princeps, would have been more than sufficient.”

“There were matters I did not believe should have been put to ink. But first, the buildings. There was a second escape tunnel and also a second hidden armory, concealed in the lower-level armory. Unlike the smaller first armory, whose weapons looked older and which had not been used recently, a number of the weapons in the second armory were in excellent condition and bore signs of recent use and sharpening. Then I undertook an inspection of the ledgers of the Ecoliae. The ledgers were kept by the bursar, but many of the sources of funds were never revealed. What I did determine was that for at least the last five years a monthly sum of golds—twenty to be exact, and in silvers—was delivered by a courier from a barge that came from the Boran Hills and landed at the barge piers in Tilbora. I also ascertained that the Sansang master of the Ecoliae and the Master Scholar and the princeps all have close ties to the hill holders. The Sansang master, who recently vanished, was an officer in the Khanar’s Guard, and his father was the last head of the Guard. The princeps and the Master Scholar also served briefly in the Guard, during the time that Lord Chayar took control of Tilbor.”

“All that is interesting, but scarcely urgent, scholar.”

“Further, I discovered the scholar princeps had placed at least one spy here in the palace, and that the Master Scholar believed that the spy had been discovered and was being watched.”

There was only the barest flicker of the eyes from Rescalyn, and Quaeryt continued without pause. “In addition, the scholar princeps—you may recall that he was the one who killed the Master Scholar and fled through the first tunnel—and the Sansang master made many trips into the Boran Hills. Also, the scholar princeps is the son of the hill holder Zorlyn.”

Rescalyn smiled with his mouth, but not his eyes. “I admire your diligence, scholar, and I can see why you felt you needed to convey such information personally.”

“I thought you would like to have confirmation of what you doubtless already suspected, and perhaps already knew from your own sources. I also wanted to let you know that the scheming and the attacks which resulted from these men were limited to a handful of scholars, two of whom appear to be dead, and two of whom are in flight to the hills.” Quaeryt inclined his head politely, wondering if Rescalyn would ask about who happened to be dead.

“Is there any other information you think I should know?”

“I do not know what you know, sir, but I have heard from several factors that the hill holders have their own silver mines, and that they have stockpiled a great deal, perhaps enough to fund a lengthy military action.” That was entirely a guess on Quaeryt’s part, but a plausible one. He smiled politely. “That is all, sir. It may be that I have thought the information more urgent than you would have judged it, but I am not an officer, although you have accorded me rank as a thoughtful courtesy, and I did not wish to fail you by delaying information you might need.”

At that, Rescalyn frowned.

Quaeryt thought the frown was not what the governor felt, but he waited.

Finally, the older man spoke. “I cannot fault you for your diligence, and I can see why you felt I should know.” He smiled politely. “You may go.”

Quaeryt bowed, turned, and left, before Rescalyn could remind him to report to the princeps. The fact that Rescalyn had not was another small indication that Quaeryt had upset his thoughts. Once the scholar was in the corridor outside, he glanced around, and seeing no one, immediately raised a concealment, then walked quietly toward the princeps’s anteroom. He did not enter, but turned toward his study and, after several steps, turned and waited.

Almost half a quint passed before he heard steps. He immediately moved forward and then trailed the governor into the princeps’s anteroom and then into the study. Quaeryt barely managed to squeeze into the study behind Rescalyn, and only because Vhorym was slow to step forward and close the door behind the governor.

“Has your scholar assistant reported to you yet?” Rescalyn’s voice was moderate.

Straesyr, clearly startled, rose. “I haven’t seen him. I take it you have.”

“Did you tell him to report directly to me?”

“No. He’s always been very respectful of the line of command.”

“He left my study just a while ago, and…” Rescalyn stopped. “You read his report. What do you think?”

“He seems to have handled matters relatively well, Rescalyn. No one got killed except for the Master Scholar, and clever as Quaeryt is, I don’t think he could manage killing a Sansang practitioner with a single knife slash. It was a single slash, was it not? Also, Quaeryt doesn’t carry that large a blade.”

“That was the report from the undercaptain to Major Skarpa.”

“Then you should be pleased that the damage was so little and that the scholar is reorganizing the Ecoliae along more traditional lines. You should also be pleased that the two guilty scholars escaped to the hills. That was your intention, wasn’t it? That someone escape to warn the hill holders?”

“I’m concerned,” said Rescalyn smoothly, “that he may have an agenda of his own.”

“That is a surprise to you? Anyone who has survived the palace of Lord Bhayar, and as a seaman, and the situations in which you placed him, has a modicum of intelligence. Any man with intelligence will have his own ideas. The question you might consider is to what degree he is loyal to Lord Bhayar.”

“Bhayar thinks him highly loyal. He would not be here otherwise.”

“I agree. He also has other contacts in the palace, as I mentioned.”

“Yes, you did … as I recall.”

Straesyr shrugged. “So far, nothing would appear out of the ordinary.”

“That may be. I would trust that it will remain so.” Rescalyn paused, then added, “Do give my best to your wife.”

Straesyr stiffened for a moment, then said coolly, “Thank you.…”

Quaeryt could see the impact the mention of Straesyr’s wife had, as if the pleasantly spoken words had been a threat, but he concentrated on what followed.

“… As for matters remaining as they are, as you have intimated, I have no reason for it to be otherwise. Even if Quaeryt has another way of reporting what he has observed, all that you have done is entirely within the purview and discretion of a good governor.”

“As I have always been.”

“That is true.”

Rescalyn nodded brusquely before turning and leaving.

Quaeryt had less trouble exiting the study behind Rescalyn, because the governor did not even try to close the door behind himself.

Quaeryt eased out of the anteroom and down to “his” study, where, after looking in both directions, he dropped the concealment, realizing, belatedly, that holding it had taken almost no effort at all. A result of all his practice with the heavier shields? Most likely.

He unlocked the study door, opened it slightly, and then walked back to the princeps’s anteroom, where he heard voices.

“… shows up, want to see him immediately.”

Quaeryt repressed a smile and put on a serious face, stepping into the anteroom.

Straesyr looked up. His expression was not quite grim. “I was trusting you might be here shortly. We need to talk.” He turned and walked into his study.

Quaeryt followed and closed the door behind himself.

Straesyr turned. “You’re my assistant. Why didn’t you report to me first?” While his voice was mild, his eyes were like the coldest blue ice Quaeryt had ever seen.

“I was under the impression, with the governor’s orders, that I was under the military chain of command, sir, and had to report to him first. After that, I had to … ah … and after that I came here, except I saw the governor march into your study. So I waited until he left.”

Straesyr opened his mouth … then closed it.

Finally, he said, “Scholar Quaeryt, I appreciate cleverness in support, but not in opposition.”

“Sir … I am in no way opposing you. If my actions appear that way, it is only appearance and not substance.”

“Would you mind explaining that?”

“Might I report on what I told the governor, sir?”

“Please do.”

Quaeryt repeated, nearly word for word, what he had told Rescalyn, as well as what Rescalyn had said, then added, “I got the impression he thought I was right to tell him, but that he wished I had told you first.”

Straesyr nodded. “That’s likely to be so.” After several moments, he smiled wryly. “The governor is a most capable man. He could achieve great things. Were Telaryn at war, he would doubtless distinguish himself for his forethought, his planning, and even his deep understanding of intrigue and when it is best used and when it is not. I would like to think that in the former areas I have close to equal abilities, but, unlike the governor, I have never been more than adequate in dealing with intrigue, as he has gently reminded me, and as I remind you.”

Quaeryt nodded thoughtfully in reply. “I see, sir.”

“Knowing from where you come and whom you serve, I believe you do. Need I say more?”

“No, sir.” Quaeryt paused. “Will our conversation serve as my weekly report, sir?”

“That, it will. After refreshing yourself, you should return to the Ecoliae … the scholarium … and continue your work at reforming it. If either the governor or I require your presence, we will summon you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Quaeryt … I do appreciate your handling of the situation after you met with the governor. I would not have wished to have had to seek you out.”

“No, sir. I never intended that you should.”

“I thought as much. Have a pleasant ride back to the scholarium, and do take care.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quaeryt maintained full shields all the way out of the palace and until he and the two rankers were more than a mille from the lower gates, when he returned to the triggered shields.

For the remainder of the ride back to the scholarium, he reflected on what he had seen and heard that morning. The conversation between the governor and the princeps had been most interesting, for what had been said, what had not been said, and what had been intimated and implied. What Straesyr had said to Quaeryt tended to confirm what Quaeryt believed about Rescalyn’s ambitions, especially given Kellear’s “accidental” death, the mention of Straesyr’s wife, and Straesyr’s veiled warning—he’d never told Quaeryt to take care before. Yet Quaeryt had nothing that amounted to hard proof, and he doubted that he ever would. Rescalyn was far too shrewd for that.

72

Mardi passed without incident, as did Meredi. They also passed without any word from either the princeps or the governor. By midday on Jeudi, Quaeryt couldn’t help but wonder exactly what was happening at the Telaryn Palace … or elsewhere in Tilbor. He had the feeling that a storm was looming over the horizon, most likely coming from the Boran Hills, but then … maybe he’d just misjudged both Rescalyn and the hill holders.

At the knock on the open door of the Master Scholar’s study, Quaeryt looked up. He tried not to stare at the ancient chorister who stood there. “Yes … what can I do for you, chorister?”