Princeps: A Novel in the Imager Portfolio (25 page)

In the end, though, the men drifted away, except for one, who kept looking at the wagon where the captive sat, trussed up.

After another glass and two quints, Quaeryt ordered Meinyt to re-form the column and head back to the post. While several handfuls of people watched them ride back southward, no one approached, and no one begged.

The first thing that Quaeryt noticed when he entered the courtyard of the post was that the anomen was unlocked, the ancient oak doors had been oiled, and the brasswork polished … and that Vaelora stood by the door, smiling, along with three rankers. Her riding clothes were smudged and stained in places.

Quaeryt rode across the courtyard and dismounted, then tied the mare to one of the ancient hitching rings.

The rankers eased away.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

“They did most of the work, but I knew what had to be done and how to do it.”

Quaeryt raised his eyebrows.

“Did you think that Father would train his son and not train his daughters?”

“But why?” Quaeryt’s voice held far more exasperation than curiosity.

“I can explain … I can…”

At that point both Heireg and Commander Zhrensyl strode quickly across the courtyard toward the two of them.

“Governor!” called Zhrensyl. “The rest of your regiment will be here by fourth glass.”

“I’ve got the cooks ready to feed them. Do you know how many?” asked Heireg.

“The entire regiment is four battalions of four companies each, with an extra company of engineers. All the battalions are mounted.”

“No archers?” Zhrensyl’s eyebrows lifted. “No foot?”

“Governor Straesyr’s predecessor in Tilbor only had a company of archers. They were dispatched to Lord Bhayar with the first regiment to leave Tilbor. Another two companies are being trained, but they weren’t ready. They’ll come with the next regiment. The northern regiments don’t have foot.”

“The next regiment? I thought there was only one regiment in Tilbor, two at the most. How many were there in Tilbor?”

Abruptly, Quaeryt realized that Zhrensyl wouldn’t have known, because Commander Myskyl had taken the southern route to Ferravyl, and there was no reason for Bhayar to have circulated what had actually happened in Tilbor. “Governor Rescalyn had been expanding the regiment there in order to train more recruits. That was because of the possibility of trouble with Bovaria.” All of that was true, if not quite in that context. “Governor Straesyr has been continuing that effort.”

“You’d think they’d let us know.”

“It could be that Lord Bhayar didn’t want Rex Kharst to know until the men were trained and battle-ready. He certainly never explained his reasons to me.”

Zhrensyl shook his head. “Don’t know what this world’s coming to, Governor.” He smiled. “But we’ll do our best.”

“I’m sure you will, and I appreciate it. So does Lord Bhayar.”

“Thank you, sir.” Zhrensyl looked to Vaelora. “And thank you, Lady. The anomen hasn’t looked that good in years.” He offered her a broad smile, then looked back to Quaeryt. “Quite a lady you have, Governor.”

“She is quite a lady, but I’m not so sure that she’s not the one who has me.”

“Either way, you’re both fortunate, sir.”

After the two officers had left, Quaeryt turned back to Vaelora. “I believe you were going to explain.”

“Dearest … I really am a mess.” She gestured to her soiled garb. “I’ll explain, but I don’t want to look like this for you and for the other officers. Besides, you need to take care of that poor mare.”

Quaeryt sighed. Loudly.

“Dearest … you don’t want to be disrespectful…” She offered a warm smile.

He shook his head.

“I’ll be ready for dinner.” With another smile, she hurried across the courtyard.

Quaeryt watched her for a moment, then untied the mare and walked her to the stable. While he turned her over to one of the ostlers to be unsaddled and groomed, he didn’t get more than a few yards from the stable before Major Heireg requested more of his time, both to update him on the supplies they had received from Aramyn and Chaffetz, and to talk about coal, the supplies requested by the engineers, and provisions for the rest of the regiment. Then Quaeryt quickly checked the ledger entries posted by Jhalyt.

By the time Quaeryt finished with Jhalyt, Skarpa was leading Third Regiment through the post gates. Settling the additional battalions in took the remainder of the time before the evening meal, and Quaeryt barely had time to wash up himself and then escort Vaelora to the officers’ mess.

After everyone finished eating, Vaelora excused herself quickly, leaving Skarpa and Quaeryt alone so that the commander could brief Quaeryt on what had occurred on the remainder of the ride to Extela. Quaeryt did wonder why she was being so accommodating, but suspected that she knew he was upset about the anomen and didn’t want to cause any more friction, especially in public.

He couldn’t help but wonder, then realized he’d missed what Skarpa had been saying. “Excuse me. Would you say that again?”

“Governor…” Skarpa said gently, “I asked if you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh, no … you might as well go over it now.”

“You got the dispatch about the problems with the bridge at Gahenyara?”

“I did. I didn’t mean to leave you with that much.”

“You couldn’t have done anything more there, sir. From what we saw coming in here, you’ve had plenty to deal with.”

“We have indeed. Do you think the engineers can improve the east bridge?”

“They were already talking about that,” said Skarpa with a laugh. “They’ll manage. Anyway, we had more trouble with the wagons coming into Montagne. The rain we got flooded everything. Between the rain and the wagons, we lost two days.…”

Quaeryt nodded and kept listening as the commander briefed him on all that had happened to the bulk of the regiment.

When Skarpa finished, he looked directly at Quaeryt. “Like I said earlier, sir, looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

More than that.
“About a quarter of the city’s buried in ash and lava. We distributed bread and potatoes today … and some flour.” In less than half a quint, Quaeryt explained what had happened, including the missing Civic Patrol and the possible problems with the various High Holders and the fact that he hadn’t even dealt with all of them.

“They’re like that everywhere, most of them, it seems.”

“Oh … do you have any other problems I need to deal with? Ones that I can do something about?” Quaeryt kept his voice light, trying to be humorous.

“Well … there is one,” mused Skarpa. “And it’s something you could do easily, sir, seeing as tomorrow is Solayi … and there’s an anomen in good repair right here on the post.”

No! Not again …
But Quaeryt said nothing, knowing that any words that slipped out he would regret.

“Some of the officers, and a lot of the men … well … they saw all the destruction … They’d like a little reassurance.”

“Comfort from the Nameless,” Quaeryt managed to say.

“Yes, sir. I know it’s not something you like to make a practice of, sir…”

“I don’t know the service that well, but if they’ll all bear with me…” Quaeryt shrugged helplessly. “I’m not a chorister.”

“Everyone would appreciate it, sir.”

“So long as they understand…”

“Sir … they understand.”

Quaeryt took a long, last swallow of the bitter lager from his mug. “I suppose I’d better let you get to your officers and get some sleep in a decent bed.” He stood.

So did Skarpa. “That’d be good. Really good.”

Quaeryt walked slowly across the darkness of the courtyard to the officers’ quarters and then up the staircase and along the balcony. The door bolt on their quarters was not thrown, and he opened the door, stepped inside, and slid the bolt. Vaelora rose from where she’d been sitting at the writing desk. Although her portable inkwell and a pen were on the desk, the single sheet of paper was blank.

“You’re upset, dearest. What happened? Did Commander Skarpa lose men in another flood? Did another bridge go out?”

“You had to clean up the anomen, didn’t you?” he asked quietly.

“It needed to be done,” she replied.

“Why? Was it another vision?”

Vaelora stiffened ever so slightly. “Yes. If you must know. I saw you standing at the pulpit. Why do you ask?”

“Because Skarpa asked if I’d conduct services tomorrow.” He shook his head.

Vaelora was silent.

“If the anomen were still locked…”

She nodded gently.

“But it’s not … You
know
how I feel!”

“Then don’t do it.”

“I can’t not do it. They need the services. There’s no one else who can do it. Some of them, maybe a lot of them, are likely to die for Bhayar if it comes to war with Bovaria. And I’m going to complain about having to talk and inspire them?”
When you feel like a fraud doing it in an anomen?

“I’m sorry, dearest.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Not when I’m so angry I might say something hurtful or that I might later regret.
Recalling what she’d said about not having secrets, he added, “I will later, but not now.”

“Try not to be too angry…”

Her voice was so woeful that he stopped short, then realized that she was exaggerating the tone to excess, and he found himself grinning, even as he recognized the blatantness of her words and expressions. He shook his head. “No wonder…”

“Not another word, dearest.”

He decided that was probably for the best—for the moment.

27

Quaeryt didn’t sleep well on Samedi evening, between being upset over being maneuvered into acting as a chorister once more and worrying about how he was ever going to restore order and function to Extela, not to mention his unease about whether he had been unfairly angry at Vaelora, although he’d tried not to show it. Then too, he’d always been uncomfortable acting as a chorister for the Nameless when he had no idea whether there even was a Nameless.

On Solayi morning, his first thought upon wakening was,
If there is a Nameless out there, that Nameless has got quite a sense of humor.
The thought helped, but not much, as he and Vaelora readied themselves for the day. He was just glad she didn’t press him to talk about why he’d been so angry; yet relieved as he was, he also wondered at her forbearance, because in the short time they’d been married, she’d always pressed to talk out matters when they disagreed.

Even so, she was pleasant at breakfast and later, as they readied to ride out.

Fhaen’s second company escorted Quaeryt and Vaelora back across the rickety and makeshift bridge to the east side of the river and then south and east to the lands of High Holder Thysor. While Quaeryt had hoped Thysor would be available, given that it was a Solayi, the High Holder was out inspecting his timberlands to the south, and Quaeryt merely left a note saying that he hoped that they might be able to meet at some time during the coming week.

When they returned to the post, Quaeryt met with Major Dhaeryn of the engineers. Work had begun on modifying the old factorage, and the plans were complete for rebuilding the bridge, although Dhaeryn asked for permission to use stones from buildings in the northwest that had been badly damaged by the earthquakes and eruption. Quaeryt agreed, but only for buildings that were complete ruins.

Then he met again with Heireg to work out the arrangements for selling goods in the marketplaces on Lundi … and asked him to work with Jhalyt to set up payroll and supply ledgers for the Civic Patrol.

What with one thing and another, before he knew it, they were eating dinner, and then he was walking across the courtyard to the anomen, escorting Vaelora in and settling her at one side before he repaired to the rear chamber to wait until the bells rang the hour.

At that moment, he stepped out, walked to the middle of the dais that held the pulpit, then turned and faced the worshippers. The small anomen was filled, possibly with three hundred officers and men.

Quaeryt didn’t even attempt the wordless invocation used by all true choristers to open a service. He just started with the greeting. “We gather together in the spirit of the Nameless and to affirm the quest for goodness and mercy in all that we do.”

Following came the opening hymn, and the only one that Quaeryt knew by heart—that he could trust himself to sing—was “Glory to the Nameless.” Thankfully, Vaelora knew it as well, and after the first phrase, he let her voice lead those in the anomen.

After that came the confession, which was one of the hardest parts of the service for Quaeryt, given that he was leading a confession of error to a deity he wasn’t certain existed. Although he had no trouble confessing to error, only to the idea that he and those who followed his words would be forgiven by the Nameless, he’d observed precious little forgiveness in life, and wondered of what use it would be elsewhere, if there indeed happened to be an “elsewhere.”

“We name not You, for naming presumes, and we presume not upon the Creator of all that was, is, and will be. We pray not to You for ourselves, nor ask from You favor or recognition, for such asks You to favor us over others who are also Yours. We confess that we risk in all times the sins of presumptuous pride. We acknowledge that the very names we bear symbolize those sins, for we strive too often to raise our names and ourselves above others, to insist that our small achievements have meaning. Let us never forget that we are less than nothing against Your Nameless magnificence and that we must respect all others, in celebration and deference to You who cannot be named or known, only respected and worshipped.”

Quaeryt did lead the chorus of “In Peace and Harmony.”

Before the offertory began, he announced, “The coins gathered in the offertory will be used to help poor mothers with children in Extela.”
And Vaelora will decide who deserves such coins.

Finally the time came for him to ascend to the pulpit for the homily, but he decided against that and merely stood on the middle of the platform holding the pulpit. Absently, he wondered if that meant he’d end up doing it all again, given Vaelora’s vision of him at the pulpit. He cleared his throat and began. “Good evening.”