Princeps: A Novel in the Imager Portfolio (27 page)

Then, that afternoon, while Dhaeryn and his engineers developed a work plan, first for the River Aqueduct, and then for the order of other repairs and the materials required, Quaeryt joined one of the squads from Third Battalion’s second company. In complying with Meinyt’s instructions, both Eleryt and Taenyd had set up their patrol assignments on a squad by squad basis to patrol the city.

For the first glass that Quaeryt accompanied the squad assigned to the area southwest of the governor’s square, he and the troopers saw little out of the ordinary, except that there were a few more people out and about than in previous days, at least from what he recalled.

Then, roughly two quints past the second glass of the afternoon, there was a dull roar, followed by a muted rumble and a slight trembling of the ground. Quaeryt glanced to the northwest as a thin plume of ash drifted upward into the hazy spring sky.

“Sir?” asked Squad Leader Shaupyr. “Are we going to get more ash and lava here in the city?”

Quaeryt studied the volcano for a moment. The ash plume did not appear to be thickening, and there were no more rumblings. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to be careful and be ready to ride south at any moment.”

As he finished speaking, a violent gust of hot wind swept out of the northwest, and the bits of ash it carried were enough to trigger Quaeryt’s shields, so that while the wind itself was like the heat of a desert on his exposed skin, the ashes seemed to circle around him.

“… look at that!” hissed one of the rankers.

Before Quaeryt could decide whether to drop the shields, a scream echoed from the side street ahead.

“Help! Brigands! Thieves! Help!”

Quaeryt left his shields in place and urged the mare forward and then into the side street.

“After the governor!” ordered Shaupyr.

A heavyset man running down the side street glanced back over his shoulder, then turned in time to see Quaeryt’s mount. He jumped to one side in order to avoid the mare, but the impact of the shields on him threw him to the pavement, and his body slid to the curbstone of the sidewalk. The bag he’d held flew from his fingers, and coppers scattered across the stones.

The second man was running the other way.

Quaeryt imaged oil under his boots, and the second thief went down hard on the stone pavement. For several moments he did not move, and by the time he staggered up and was starting to run again, Quaeryt was on him. A single blow of the half-staff to the back of the man’s head was enough to bring him down again.

Before the man could rise again, the rest of the squad had filled the side street. Four rankers dismounted and trussed up the two thieves.

A graying woman dressed in a faded brown shirt and even more washed-out brown trousers stood in a narrow doorway, her head moving from side to side, and Quaeryt rode over and reined up short of her. “Are you all right?”

“They took my wallet. They took it … I heard the roar and the rumble, sir. Someone yelled that more ash was coming, and I peered out the door. It was like those two were waiting…”

“They probably were,” said Quaeryt.

The woman looked at Quaeryt. Her eyes went to Shaupyr, who rode up and extended the pouch.

“Here’s your wallet. I don’t know if we found all the coins…”

“I had almost a silver’s worth of coppers…” wailed the woman.

Quaeryt slipped a silver from his wallet and leaned down from the saddle to extend it. “This should make up the difference.”

The woman started to grab for the coin, then restrained herself. “You’re not a trooper. Not dressed like a scholar.”

“No, I’m not, but the silver is yours.”

“That’s Governor Quaeryt,” said the squad leader.

“But … he was the one … he stopped … both of them…”

“The governor is good with the staff,” added Shaupyr. “He was riding patrol with us.”

The woman turned back to face Quaeryt, and her eyes widened. “The Nameless bless you, sir.”

“Just be careful.”

“I will, sir.” The woman darted back inside the narrow door.

Quaeryt heard the sound of a door bar dropping into place.

“What do you want us to do with this pair, sir?” asked the squad leader. “Take them to the south square?”

Quaeryt frowned. “No … take them to the patrol station. They can work off their crime rebuilding it, or the bridge, or whatever else the engineers need strong backs for.”

One of the brigands stiffened, but said nothing.

Quaeryt belatedly realized that he’d never questioned the man who’d tried to attack the wagon on the day they had provided free bread and potatoes.
How could you forget? Because you’re short of time … like everything else.

He reminded himself to take care of that.

Within a glass, the ash plume from Mount Extel had dwindled away to nothing, and the rest of the afternoon patrol was without event.

After he rode back through the post gates late that afternoon and finished stabling the mare, little more than a glass before the evening meal, he immediately headed for the quartermaster’s study. Heireg was there.

“Did we get any supplies today?”

“Yes, sir. High Holder Chaffetz sent another hundred barrels of flour. His man asked that he not be required to send any more until we return the barrels from the first hundred.”

“That’s reasonable, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. High Holder Aramyn sent fifty barrels more, and a hundred bushels of potatoes. Lady Vaelora was pleased with that because they sold all fifty bushels of potatoes they took to the market squares. And High Holder Wystgahl sent fifty barrels.” The major frowned.

“What is it?”

“Can’t say as I like the looks of the barrels Wystgahl sent. His man wouldn’t say much.”

“You think we should look into those barrels?”

“I told the cooks to use one of them tomorrow night, just so we could see.”

“Good. How much flour did they sell at the market squares? Do you know?”

“They took five barrels and came back empty. Jhalyt and I put the coppers in our strong room here. We took in 379 coppers for the flour and 120 for the potatoes. I got a chit from the chief clerk, and he entered the amounts in the ledger.”

Quaeryt smiled. Vaelora or the rankers had been generous in what they’d doled out, but for the time being that was fine. “You seem to be working well with Jhalyt.”

“I knew him slightly before. He was the one the princeps sent to check our accounts. Seemed to be a good man.”

Quaeryt nodded. Jhalyt hadn’t mentioned that to him.

When he left Heireg, he went to find the cell where the wounded captive was incarcerated, but had to return to have the duty squad leader provide a key and a pair of rankers. He also learned that the man’s name—the one he gave, in any case—was Dhousyt Sleksyn.

Quaeryt didn’t bother to take the fellow elsewhere, but just stepped into the small cell, if with his shields up.

“Took your time, Governor.”

“That likely didn’t hurt you. Your friends just might have forgotten as well. Who set up the attack on the wagon?”

“What’s it to you?”

“That’s not the question. The question is whether you want to end up in the river or being released quietly one of these nights.” Quaeryt projected both authority and contempt, followed by indifference. Using image-projection on a man like Dhousyt didn’t bother him, and it was far easier on both him and Dhousyt than any other technique available.

Dhousyt swallowed. “Bennar did. Bennar Fhandsyn.”

“Was it his idea?”

“Bennar never had no ideas in his life.”

“Then who did?”

“The swell who owns the pleasure house. Don’t know his name. Bennar just calls him the spicer. You don’t want to cross him. Just as soon carve his initials on you or your mother or sister. Did that once to Nordon’s little sister … before Nordon disappeared. Heard it happened to others. Anyway, Bennar gave us each a silver. Told us we’d end up sow food ifn we didn’t.”

Quaeryt spend another quint with Dhousyt, but it was clear the man knew little more. It was also clear that the spicer, whoever he was, was truly despicable. When Quaeryt returned to the duty desk, he made arrangements for Dhousyt to be released after dark. He supposed he could have had him branded or the equivalent, but he’d held the tough longer than he should have.

He was ready to leave the duty chamber when a thought struck him. “Have there been any messages for me, Squad Leader?”

“No, sir. We haven’t received any dispatches or messages today, sir. We usually don’t get the report from Solis until Mardi afternoon, sir.”

“Thank you.” Quaeryt offered a pleasant smile and left the chamber, making his way across the courtyard to the officers’ quarters, where he climbed the steps to the second level. Vaelora was waiting by the balcony railing outside their quarters.

“How did your day go?” she asked.

“I discovered large problems, and solved one small one…” He went on to explain about his forgetting about Dhousyt and the overall patroller problem. “They’ll need someone to whip them into shape. It’s not something that I’ll have time to do. That was one reason why I forgot about Dhousyt.”

“Major Meinyt would be good at shaping up those patrollers,” Vaelora offered. “So would some of the other older captains.”

“The ones who came up through the ranks.” Quaeryt paused. “I’ll have to talk to Skarpa about that.” From there he recounted the remainder of his day before asking, “And you?”

“Fewer earth-shaking problems than yours,” she said with a smile. “It was sad to see how many women had so few coppers.”

“I talked to Heireg. I got the feeling you were generous in measuring the flour.” He paused. “How many did you pay for?”

“I paid half the cost for more than twenty women. It could have been thirty.”

“More likely, it was closer to forty.”

“Some of them have so little.” Vaelora looked at him. “I remembered what Father told me about helping people. You don’t give them all of anything. They have to make an effort.”

“Otherwise … they come to expect charity too much.”

She nodded. “But it’s still sad.”

“Were there many who looked not to be too deprived?”

“Most of those who came had the coin for what they needed, and some said that they felt safer with all the troopers around.”

“That was part of the reason for sending so many. Do you think Extela looks better than when we first arrived?”

“Yes. Paying coppers to some of the women to sweep up the ash has helped, too.” Vaelora offered a faint smile. “We should wash up for dinner.”

Quaeryt leaned toward her and brushed her cheek with his lips. “We should indeed.”

“For dinner, dearest. Just for dinner.”

He couldn’t help grinning.

“You’re being—”

“Impossible, but not disrespectful.”

Vaelora laughed softly and took his hand.

29

For Vaelora, Mardi began in the same fashion as Lundi had. Quaeryt saw her off beside Fhaen, riding near the head of three companies from Fourth Battalion. As she had been readying the gelding to leave, he’d suggested that she didn’t need to go to watch over the sales of goods every day, but she had been adamant.

“It makes a difference if the governor’s wife is there. Besides, what would you have me do here at the post?”

Given the results of her last “free” day at the post, Quaeryt had offered no objections. He only said, “Please keep your eyes open for anything that seems unusual or out of place.”

“Don’t I always?” had been her response just before she had mounted the gelding and ridden across the courtyard to rein up beside Major Fhaen.

Quaeryt stifled the wince he felt and smiled. “Yes, you do.”

Once Vaelora had ridden out through the post gates, Quaeryt went to the study he had made his own to meet with Major Dhaeryn to discuss the priorities for repairs to the city, especially those that could be done in addition to those on the River Aqueduct and the east bridge, both of which were absolutely necessary.

The first thing Dhaeryn said when he walked into the study and sat down stopped Quaeryt cold.

“We’ve had our first death, Governor … on the bridge.”

“What happened? Did some of the stones shift or something?” The last thing Quaeryt wanted was another complication, like the makeshift bridge collapsing before Dhaeryn was ready to start rebuilding it.

The major shook his head. “A foolish thing. I had one of the newer rankers checking the east shore piers. He was careless, slipped and went into the river.”

“He drowned?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Dhaeryn shook his head. “He must have swallowed some water wrong, because he was lying on the stones when the others found him. They thought he’d had a dizzy spell or something. But he was cold. Dead.”

“Then how did he drown, if he wasn’t in the water?”

“He got too much water in his lungs. I’d guess he couldn’t cough it all up somehow. You know, that’s how some old people die. My great uncle did. He got consumption, and there was so much water in his lungs he just drowned.” The major paused. “You don’t think it would happen to a young man, but it did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have sent someone with him, but the rocks down there looked dry and solid. You never know.”

Drowning … after getting out of the water?
Quaeryt could see how it might happen … but that seemed so improbable … except it had. “Otherwise … how are things going?”

“The patrol station … the factorage has been neglected, but it was well built. It won’t be fancy, but we’ll have something the patrollers can use in a week, maybe sooner. The bridge and the aqueduct … they’re going to take longer, and we don’t have enough men or equipment to handle anything else.”

“Then just work on those until you’ve done what you can.…”

After Quaeryt finished with the head engineer, while he waited for the group of patrollers first to arrive, he began to review the master ledger Jhalyt had created, albeit with his own improvements, based on the clerk’s experience and some of the samples he’d brought from Tilbora.