Ordermaster (49 page)

"If you would tell Mantar to ready the carriage, then find Erdyl."

"Yes, ser." Demyst bowed, then turned.

   
Kharl had his reasons for the ride. First, he did want Demyst and Erdyl to see more of the city. Second, he wanted to see what had changed. Third, he wanted to see if he could sense any more concentration of chaos. And finally, he wanted to see where the other envoys were, as well as where the lord justicers and others of power and wealth lived. As he'd realized, looking beyond the residence gardens, those were parts of Brysta he'd never known, because the wealthy buyers of his barrels had always sent their retainers to pick up the cooperage-and what cooper ever had time to walk around the city?

LX

1 he ride on sevenday had proved useful not only to Demyst and Erdyl, but, as Kharl had hoped, to himself as well. Mantar had been happy to show off his knowledge of Brysta, and to point out everything from the Quadrancy Keep-the walled hilltop keep of Lord West and his family and retainers-to the various enclaves below it on the hill, the largest of which was the Hamorian. It had also been recently enlarged. At least, several of the outbuildings and walls looked new, and felt that way to Kharl. He had not sensed a chaos-wizard there, and that had worried him, in some ways, more than if he had, although he could not have said why.

   
Also, in addition to the new barracks building in the old slateyard, there was another set of barracks and stables on the south side of Brysta, beside the road south to Surien, the same road Kharl had walked to Peachill. Patrollers guarded both.

   
Kharl had the feeling that they had been followed, but not by wizardry or wizards, and supposed that was to be expected. Only a single additional merchant ship, from Suthya, had ported in the harbor, and the coastal schooner had departed. One of Lord West's two gunships had also ported, looking old, small, and insignificant compared to the Hamorian warships Kharl had seen on the high seas and in port at Swartheld.

   
Kharl had requested that Mantar take them down Crafters' Lane, but while his old cooperage now bore the name of Mallamet, he had not seen

the cooper, nor had he been able to make out the inscription on the adjoining building that had once been Tyrbel's scriptorium. Gharan's shutters had been closed-not at all unusual for a crafter on sevenday afternoon- so that Kharl could not tell whether Jeka still worked for the weaver. The drive itself was all he thought prudent for the present, until he had a better idea of how matters stood-but he wished he had been able to see and sense more.

   
After returning, Kharl had sampled the leather-bound books in the library, going through and opening them, reading sections at random. Several were merely compilations of folktales. One was called History of the Ancients, and Kharl read several pages. One paragraph caught his attention.

   
All across Candar, there are people, usually women, who talk about the "Legend." Yet there is no evidence to support this Legend, save for the ruins of Westwind itself, and the ruin of a black tower and a walled keep on the Roof of the World tells nothing of its inhabitants or how they lived ... They are no written histories dating from that time, except those reputed to be in the archives in Nylan, and no one not of Reduce has ever been granted access to those, if they even exist...

   
So far as Kharl could tell, most of the pages before and after that paragraph were written in the same vein-claiming that years of tales passed down meant nothing. They had to mean something. They just couldn't be dismissed, although what they meant Kharl wasn't certain.

   
The other volumes were even drier. One was a manual on tanning, and another dealt with rendering. At that, Kharl recalled Werwal, the Tenderer, who had been one of the few crafters in Brysta who had not turned against Kharl. Another was a thin volume that offered a guide to bookkeeping. There were several hundred volumes on the shelves, and Kharl did not see a one that he found interesting, or likely to be of immediate use, except perhaps the one that dealt with accounts. But he did not wish to spend more time looking through all of them, one at a time, some were so old he could not even make out the titles on their fronts or their spines.

   
After his brief perusal of the volumes on the shelves, most of which were stuck to the wood on which they rested, Kharl had begun to study the residence ledgers and accounts in greater detail-much greater detail. He

continued that effort on eightday. By late afternoon, he was convinced that Fundal was relatively honest. He also felt that the steward was a timid man at heart, and one fearful of changing providers or asking firmly for a better price.

So he sent Erdyl to bring the steward to the library.

Fundal entered, his eyes downcast.

   
Young as he was, Erdyl clearly understood, because he slipped away, closing the door behind him.

"Ser? Is there something wrong?"

   
"You haven't done anything wrong," Kharl replied. "I have been studying the accounts."

"Yes, ser." Concern and puzzlement warred on Fundal's face.

"There are some things that trouble me ..."

"Ser?"

"You've been buying linens from Soret, I see."

"Yes, Lord Kharl. We've always purchased from him."

"Do we need any more?"

"Not soon."

   
Kharl nodded. "The weaver Gharan does better work, I've heard. Ask him for a price and get a sample of his work before you see Soret."

"But... ser ... we've always ..."

   
"Fundal. I've some experience in trade. I'm sure you have heard that. If Gharan does better work or does the same work at less cost, our golds go farther."

Fundal swallowed.

   
"Now . .. about the flour. I'd like you to consider Wassyt, the miller to the north ..." Kharl did not explain in detail, either about Wassyt or the other crafters whose names he mentioned in turn, but every name he mentioned was a good and honest provider, the best that Kharl had known. He didn't actually tell Fundal to change providers, but he did suggest very strongly that the steward learn about each man before purchasing more from the current provider. ". .. we're charged with spending Lord Ghrant's golds wisely, and I intend that we should. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ser."

"If you have any ideas that would help, I'd like to hear them."

"I'd have to think about that, ser."

Fundal was almost trembling when he left the study.

   
Kharl followed, using his sight shield, and listened, with his order-boosted senses, as Fundal talked to Khelaya.

"... practically told me who to buy provender and the like from ..."

   
"That doesn't sound like any lord I've known, but he's a new lord. Maybe he came from trade."

"He might have, but how could he know all those names?"

   
"You said he was an officer on one of Lord Hagen's ships. They meet everyone. Been on one long enough, he'd know who was good, I'd wager. 'Sides, I told you myself that Soret was cheating you. Told you to go to Chyrent, too."

Kharl smiled at the cook's tone.

   
"... weren't for the golds, almost wish we didn't have an envoy." Fun-dal's voice carried resignation.

   
"Like him a lot better than Hensolas. Mean-assed bastard. Barely got Sysena off to her aunt's before he ruined her, and him havin' that woman, too. Called her his cousin." The cook snorted, then laughed.

   
"I don't know as I like him. Seems honest, but he looks right through you, like as he could see your heart."

   
"Can't take blooms and fruit from the same tree, Fundal. You didn't like Hensolas 'cause he paid no attention and treated you like dust under his boots. You don't like this one because he watches you and wants you to do better."

   
"Go fix supper." The rear door to the kitchen closed firmly as the steward left.

   
Kharl frowned as he eased back to the study. Fundal wasn't stealing from the residence, but he certainly didn't want Kharl watching him too closely.

In the kitchen, Khelaya hummed happily as she chopped nuts.

LXI

JXharl glanced around the library that was his to use while he was envoy, then blotted his forehead. Although it was well before midmorning on one-day and the walls of the residence were thick, the rooms were already warm, and the day promised to be more than unpleasantly hot. Too hot to

visit the harbor and the Hall of Justice? Kharl shook his head. He needed a better feel for what was happening, and he didn't want to talk to anyone who might recognize him, certainly not just after he had arrived in Brysta. No one he knew closely was likely to be in either place.

   
"Ser?" Erdyl appeared at the half-open library door. "You have another message, another invitation of some sort, I would judge."

"Do you know who it's from?"

   
"The messenger who rode up with it wore the black and crimson of Hamor," Erdyl said, extending the envelope that was sealed with black-and-crimson wax.

   
Hamor? Kharl didn't want to deal with the Hamorians, but he supposed that, so long as he met with their envoy in a relatively public place and kept his guard up, it was as safe as anything else he had been doing- not at all safe, but unavoidable. He broke the seal and extracted the short missive written on a heavy cream-colored paper, a paper more like parchment, but paper nonetheless.

He read the words slowly.

Most esteemed Lord Kharl,

On behalf of His Mightiness Sestar, Emperor of Hamor, and Regent of the South, I bid you welcome to Brysta and to the community of envoys gathered here to serve their rulers.

The heat and damp of summer are scarce the best time to arrive in Nordla, and for that reason, we would like to tender an invitation for refreshments on sixday afternoon, the fourth glass past noon, here at the residence. With so many of those of interest and power in Brysta gone until the weather returns to a more temperate state, the afternoon will offer time to become acquainted ...

As the envoy of Lord Ghrant, you represent a young ruler who has proved that he has resources and wisdom beyond his years, and I look forward greatly to meeting with you.

   
The letter bore the signature of Whetorak, Lord Councilor. Kharl

handed the invitation back to Erdyl. "What do you think?"
 
>

After reading it, the secretary looked up. "Ser?"

"He doesn't expect me to say no," Kharl said dryly.

"For a social occasion, ser, it might not be-"

   
"Oh, I know. Telling him I don't want to see him isn't wise. I learn nothing, and I just make him mad."

"And curious," suggested Erdyl.

  
There was another aspect to the letter. Whetorak had apologized for there being few others, if any, that he could invite. He was also suggesting that Kharl was unfortunate or unwise for arriving when he had, because so few remained in Brysta during the summer. That was something Kharl never thought about when he had been a cooper. Coopers didn't retreat to the hills or to anywhere else during the heat of summer. They just kept working.

   
"I suppose you should write a response to Lord Whetorak," Kharl said. "Something like the last one, not too flowery."

"Right now, ser?"

"Please. Use the desk."

   
While Erdyl began to write, Kharl made another attempt at perusing the books on the library shelves. The third book was entitled On Philosophy. He read the first page three times before setting the book back on the shelf. It made The Basis of Order seem simple and practical.

   
Kharl walked to the window and looked out for a time. The green-blue sky was cloudless, but already showing heat haze, and there was not even a hint of a breeze.

"Ser ... if you would read this?"

   
Kharl walked to the desk and took the short reply from Erdyl. He read it carefully before speaking. "That's fine. I'll sign it, and you can seal it."

"Yes, ser."

   
After signing the reply and watching Erdyl apply the envoy's seal, Kharl cleared his throat.

"Erdyl... if you would have Mantar ready the carriage."

"Yes, ser. Where are we going?"

   
Kharl grinned. "The undercaptain and I are going to swing by the harbor to check the ships, then go to the Hall of Justice. You are going to come in the carriage so that Mantar can take you to deliver my reply. After that, you'll locate the residences of the other envoys and make a short call on each, introducing yourself to their secretaries, or whoever acts as such, and