Scepters (68 page)

The
Regent smiled coldly, then turned and left the enclosed garden.

Wendra
had persuaded Alucius that she could stay a few days, and that she could
certainly look over the ledgers to give him a hand while she was there. He had
not protested excessively strongly about either proposition, and he had enjoyed
Octdi greatly, taking more time off from his work than he should have.

On
Novdi, when he came upstairs for a quick midday meal, he saw that Wendra had
laid out three ledgers across the single couch, open at different points. She
sat in one of the overstuffed armchairs, burping Alendra.

“Alucius…
there are things really wrong with these ledgers…” Wendra looked up, a smudge
of dirt or ink over her left eye. She rose, holding out Alendra. “I need to
show you.”

Alucius
took his daughter, still amazed at her, for so many reasons. Already, Alendra’s
lifethread was close to half green, a promise of strong Talent, yet she was
still so small, or so it seemed to him, no matter how often Wendra told him
that she was good-sized for a child less than two seasons old. And her eyes—a
deep green with flecks of gray. Over the years, Alucius had not seen many
infants, but never had he seen one so young with eyes of such strong and
striking color.

Wendra
picked up the first ledger and carried it to where Alucius could see without
setting down Alendra. “This is the one for outpost supplies. That’s what it
seems to be. Look at these lines here.”

Alucius
looked, taking in the words: Cooperage, fifty full barrels [slack/oak].

“The
barrels… that was what caught my eye. Father never charges more than a silver a
barrel for slack cooperage—that’s for oak. The Guard is paying two silvers to
Halanat and Sons, but they’re buying from Father at less than half that.”

“A
tidy profit—more than five golds for just that one lot of fifty barrels.”

“It’s
worse than that,” she said. “Father has asked to bid on barrels. He’s always
been told that his bids were too high.”

“But
he sold them to Halanat for what, less than five golds, and Halanat resold them
for ten?” Alucius shifted Alendra higher on his shoulder.

“The
ledgers don’t say what price Halanat got. Between Weslyn and Halanat they
skimmed off more than five.”

“How
many times has this happened?”

“There
are five times that I’ve found in this ledger. I don’t know that I’ve
discovered them all. Or even most of them. There are also some purchases of
buckets and some flour that look like the same thing. I can only trace the
things where I know the costs.”

“Still…
just on the five-barrel lots, that’s more than a half year’s pay for a colonel.”

Wendra
grinned. “Do you get that? We could buy another cam and get a better
outbreeding.”

“You
don’t get the bonus on my pay anymore.” Alucius wasn’t sure about that, but he
doubted that the Lord-Protector would pay it once he was back in Dekhron, even
if it happened to be looking almost as dangerous as battle duty. He frowned.
That was overstating matters.

“What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing.
I was just thinking that… well… no one’s going to like what I’m finding. Even
after the golds Weslyn was hiding.”

Wendra
set down the first ledger and brought a second one over. “All this feed. It
comes from a grower named Aluard in Fiente. The amounts are twice what we pay
for it for the town sheep, and we’re paying for almost a hundred vingts of
cartage when we buy it in Iron Stem. The Guard can’t be paying but half that,
not if it’s coming from Fiente to Dekhron. And there’s a lot more feed sold to
the Guard than barrels.”

Aluard—that
was the name of Yusalt’s brother. Were there two Aluards who were growers in
Fiente? Somehow Alucius doubted it.

“Weslyn
had more than a few ties to Fiente. I’d wager that any oil the Guard bought was
purchased on the same basis.”

“What
will you do?”

“For
now, I’ll have to meet with the factors and traders and tell them about what
Weslyn did and suggest that it appears as if he pocketed a great deal. I’ll
probably have to let it go at that—unless I find evidence otherwise from here
on in.”

“Oh…”
Wendra set down the ledger. “You need to eat, and I haven’t done much.”

“There’s
bread and cheese, I think, and a few other things.”

“That’s
not enough—”

“It
will do. It’s what I was eating before you came. Besides, what you found
already is more important than food.” Alucius smiled. “So is your being here.”

“I’m
glad to be here.”

Alucius
turned sideways, then leaned forward and brushed her cheek with his lips. “You
don’t know how glad I am.”

She
grinned wickedly. “You showed me last night.”

Alucius
couldn’t help flushing.

“Grandpa
Kustyl came by a while ago.” Wendra’s voice sobered, a serious tone.

“When
are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow
morning. I don’t feel right leaving you, but I don’t feel right leaving
everything on the stead to your grandsire. He gets tired, really tired, if he
has to take the flock out more than two days in a row.”

“You
didn’t tell me that.”

“You’ve
had enough to worry about.”

That
was true enough, and now she had told him.

“We
need to get you something to eat.” Wendra turned. “I can do it if you’ll keep
holding Alendra.”

Alucius
readjusted his daughter against his shoulder. Alendra squirmed, as if
protesting the change in position, as Alucius followed his wife toward the
kitchen.

Still…
he was back down in his study in less than half a glass, and Wendra had
promised to write down, as she could, all the instances of obvious
overpayments. He’d redrafted his request to meet with the Traders’ Council on
the following Sexdi to discuss matters of mutual interest and concern. After he
signed and sealed it, he had Fewal take it to Halanat’s factorage, since he had
no idea where else to send it.

The
lancer returned within half a glass to say that the factor Halsant had accepted
the letter with little more than a nod.

Kustyl
arrived less than a glass into the afternoon, while Alucius was drafting
letters requesting the resignations of various officers, mostly captains placed
by Weslyn. Interestingly enough, Alucius had already received a letter of
resignation from Yusalt. That indicated that either someone had passed the word
to the captain or Yusalt had not been quite so clueless as he had first appeared.
It also suggested he was far from guiltless.

Kustyl
walked into the study, closing the door behind him. This time he did settle
into the chair across the desk from Alucius. He smiled. “You got ‘em worried.
That’s for sure.”

“Who?
The factors?”

“Mostly
the folks with golds. Even Renzor’s heard, and he’s just a coppersmith. They’re
talking about your facing down Weslyn. Some of ‘em claim you’re part sander,
with skin like theirs. Say that nothing else could have survived the shots you
took. A couple say that Weslyn was a crack shot. Maybe three years back, he
shot a cutpurse running away from thirty yards in the dark. ‘Course, no one
knew the cutpurse, and only Weslyn said he was a thief.”

“Anyone
know any more about that?”

“There
was some captain who claimed the fellow had been a lancer working in
headquarters who deserted, but nothing came of it.”

Alucius
nodded. Like so much he’d found, it was suggestive, but hardly proof of
anything. “What else?”

“It’s
what’s not happening. No prices are changing. No one’s stocking up on things,
and folks don’t think you’ll be colonel that long. Figure someone’ll shoot you,
or that you’ll go back to being a herder, or the Lord-Protector will order you
back into fighting the Matrites.”

“That’s
not good.”

“Nope.
Not all that bad, either.”

“Why
do you think that?”

“If
they were all into this, you’d see more happening, one way or another. People
leaving town. Goods being sold.”

“That…
or they’re all in it.”

Kustyl
shook his head. “Too many loose lips in Dekhron. Way I figure it, it has to be
Tarolt and Halanat, and everyone else is trying to stay out of their path.”

“What
sort of goods do Halanat and Halsant handle?” asked Alucius.

“Pretty
much everything except nightsilk. Heard they’ve been shipping more wine from
the south out east, and sulfur to Deforya lately,” Kustyl said.

“The
sulfur sounds like trouble.”

“Your
grandsire said you didn’t much care for the Landarch.”

“He
wasn’t as bad as the nobles around him. They’re in charge now. Before long, the
Praetor of Lustrea will be trying to take over Deforya. The Lord-Protector
would like to, but he doesn’t have the lancers to do it.”

“You’re
getting less cheerful these days.”

“Wouldn’t
you?”

Kustyl
laughed. “Never have been. Mairee had to be twice as cheerful.”

“I
need someone here local to look over the ledgers. Someone who’s honest and won’t
take advantage of the information, but I’d like them to be someone whose word
most factors would trust.”

“Don’t
want much, do you?”

“I
never do,” replied Alucius dryly.

Kustyl
laughed again. “I’d say you ought to try Agherat. He’s the most honest of
Dekhron’s usurers.”

“A
usurer?”

“Who
else knows ledgers and coins? You don’t need a usurer. Guard doesn’t borrow.
Means he doesn’t gain much by it. He’s a cousin of Mairee’s—she’s got lots of cousins.
I can ask him after I leave here.”

“If
you would.”

“I
can do that.” Kustyl stood. “That’s what I’ve got. Talked to your Wendra. She
tell you?”

“You
plan to ride back tomorrow morning.” Alucius rose from behind the desk.

“Quite
a woman, that granddaughter of mine.”

“More
than anyone knew,” Alucius said.

“Except
you. You saw that right off, didn’t you?”

“I’d
like to think I did. I knew she was special. I didn’t know why.”

Kustyl
nodded. “Glad to see she’s on the stead. Best herder in the whole family, and
she had to get a stead from your family. Glad it was your grandsire’s. Almost
family, anyway.”

“I’m
glad it worked out.”

“You
and all of the north valleys. See you in the morning.” Kustyl opened the door
and slipped out.

Alucius
looked down at the unfinished letter on the desk. Sometimes, the writing that
followed the decisions seemed as bad as the decisions themselves.

In
the grayness before dawn on Decdi, Alucius opened the door to his quarters. He
carried Wendra’s saddlebags, stuffed full, mainly with clothing for Alendra,
but also with his old nightsilk undergarments. He hadn’t realized how fast
infants went through clothing in cold weather, at least, if parents wanted them
to remain relatively dry and odor free.

Wendra
followed him, with Alendra in the carrypack across her chest, a pack designed
to keep the infant snug, warm, and slightly to the left, positioned so that, if
necessary, Wendra could use her rifles. Their breath trailed them like white
fog as they made their way down the steps to where Kustyl and Wendra’s mount
waited. Alucius had saddled her chestnut earlier. The chill was more of
midwinter than late winter, and more what Alucius would have expected on the
stead, rather than in Dekhron.

At
the bottom of the steps, Alucius gave Wendra a last, one-armed embrace and
kissed her cheek, then bent and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “I wish you
could stay. Or that I could have put my other plans into effect.” Alucius had
already told Wendra that he had asked for permission to move the Northern Guard
to Iron Stem, and that the Lord-Protector was considering it. Wendra had
understood that he was reluctant to say more until he had a firm commitment.

“I
wish I could stay, too. You know it’s not for the best.”

Alucius
did. In many ways, Dekhron was looking to be less safe than the stead, and
there was also the problem of Royalt. According to Wendra, Alucius’s grandsire
was beginning to show his age, and if he were left too long to handle the stead
without Wendra—or Alucius—the strain would be too great, and in the end, both
Alucius and Wendra would suffer more. Given all he owed to his grandsire,
Alucius did not want to place too heavy a burden on Royalt. “Just be careful on
the way back, and on the stead.”

“I
will. I always am.” Wendra smiled warmly at him.

For
a long moment, their eyes and lifethreads intertwined.

Then
Wendra turned, and even with the carrypack, mounted easily. After she mounted,
Alucius checked the rifles at her knee, making sure—once more—that the actions
were clean and that the magazines were full.

He
stepped back. “Just be careful,” he said again.

“We’ll
be fine.” Wendra looked down at him. “You’re the one who needs to be careful.”

Kustyl
cleared his throat.

Alucius
looked at the older herder.

“Agherat
said he’d be glad to help,” Kustyl said from the saddle of his roan. “No
charge. That’s something from a usurer, but he didn’t care much for Weslyn. He’s
across and up from the chandlery nearest the bridge. Sign with two coins.”

“Thank
you.”

“Glad
to ask for you.” The older herder glanced to the north. “Cold but clear on the
way back. Wendra’ll take care of us both. Better shot than anyone except maybe
you, Alucius.”

“Let’s
hope you don’t have to shoot anyone.”

“Being
prepared to shoots better than hoping you don’t have to,” Kustyl replied wryly,
easing his mount around to face the gates.

Alucius
walked beside Wendra’s mount until they reached the gates and the sentries,
where he stopped, watching as they turned northward. Then he started back
toward his quarters.