From where he stood at the side of the great hall, Quaeryt could see that most officers were nodding, although Khaern, Zhelan, and Calkoran were understandably not among them.
“The new marshal of the armies of Telaryn is former Senior Commander Justanan, who has most recently commanded Northern Army and who has been most effective in assuring that northern Bovaria is completely loyal.” Bhayar turned to Justanan and nodded.
The new marshal smiled, almost shyly, then said, “Most of you know this is a position I did not seek and did not expect. One thing I have learned, especially from others, is that demanding anything as due or owed is usually the road to disaster. Doing one’s duty as well and as faithfully as possible is not merely a goal for an officer. It is a necessity. I have attempted to follow that precept all my life, and I intend to continue following it as marshal. I also expect the same of you.” He smiled again. “I’ll probably have more to say later, perhaps too much.” He turned back to Bhayar.
Bhayar glanced to Quaeryt.
“Attention!” Quaeryt amplified his voice with image-projection.
Bhayar followed the two marshals from the great hall.
Once they were well clear and on their way back to Bhayar’s study, Quaeryt made the last announcement. “As you were.”
Within moments, Quaeryt was joined by Pulaskyr.
“You handled that rather well, Commander.”
“I just announced people,” replied Quaeryt blandly.
“That you did, but it was better this way. A pity about Myskyl, though.” Pulaskyr’s voice was so matter-of-fact that it was clear he felt no sympathy whatsoever.
“It is,” Quaeryt replied.
“It’s said that you don’t plan to remain a commander.”
“Only so long as necessary. I’ll likely become head of the imagers’ Collegium. Lydar needs a place where imagers can be schooled and where they can feel safe and be productive supporters of Lord Bhayar and his heirs … and their heirs.”
“That’s also likely for the best,” replied Pulaskyr. “I don’t know if I’ll be seeing you again.”
“Oh?”
“Bhayar has asked me to serve as regional governor of Solis and acting governor of Telaryn during the transition … and to arrange for Lady Aelina and the children to come to Variana. I’ll be taking several regiments, of course.”
“I wish you well.”
“And I you.” Pulaskyr smiled, then turned.
Bhayar had definitely been busy, Quaeryt reflected. And that’s good.
62
By Mardi morning, Quaeryt was beginning to feel as though he had at least a basic grasp of what Vaelora had dealt with and accomplished while he’d been involved in thwarting Myskyl’s and Deucalon’s scheming. Although Bhayar had not indicated whether he intended to accept Quaeryt’s recommendation for the eventual disposition of the lands belonging to the late High Holder Fiancryt, he had issued a proclamation declaring Lady Myranda guilty of treason and her life forfeit.
Quaeryt had also arranged for Calkoran to ride out to meet whomever the High Council of Khel had sent as envoy once word was received that the envoy was within a glass or so of the chateau. That left him free to deal with the other matters that seemed to appear from everywhere, including yet another letter about repairs of the Anomen D’Variana and an inquiry from the sole scholarium, the one north of Variana, asking for consideration and support.
Quaeryt had almost, but not quite, mentally pushed aside the issue of Khel and the arriving envoy when a trooper hurried into Vaelora’s study slightly after midday and announced, “The Khellan envoy is riding up to the front of the Chateau Regis.”
“We should greet him, then,” said Vaelora calmly, “even though no one greeted us properly in Sandeol.”
Quaeryt couldn’t help smiling, thinking, She may forgive, but she never forgets. He’d learned that quickly. “Him?”
“Bhayar sent me. The High Council will send a man, most likely Councilor Khaliost.”
“Because he’s the only man on the High Council and the oldest, so that he can be replaced when he commits Khel to terms that the others don’t like?”
Vaelora shook her head. “They’ll keep him on the Council for a time so that everyone can demand of him the reasons why he gave away so much.”
“Bhayar won’t-”
“Bhayar might,” she said. “We won’t. Let’s go see if I’m right.”
Quaeryt would have been surprised if she’d been wrong.
“We need to let the kitchen know to send up the refreshments to the lower receiving parlor,” added Vaelora.
Before that morning, Quaeryt hadn’t even known there was such a parlor, let alone where it was, not that he was surprised to find one existed, given the size of the Chateau Regis.
After sending instructions to the kitchen, the two left the study and headed for the front entry. They had only been waiting at the top of the white-stone steps for about a third of a quint when the squad from Major Zhael’s second company reined up. A second squad was behind the first, led by Major Eslym. Quaeryt frowned, then realized that Calkoran was at the front of the group, and beside him was the white-haired Khaliost, and beside and behind him several others in Khellan garb.
Calkoran dismounted immediately and walked halfway up the steps, then turned to face Quaeryt. “Lady and Minister Vaelora, Commander Quaeryt, might I present the envoy of the High Council of Khel, Councilor Khaliost?”
“We look forward to receiving the councilor and his party,” replied Quaeryt.
At that, Khaliost immediately dismounted and walked up the steps. He still wore the tan tunic and red chorister-like scarf. He also carried a leather folder. Behind him was a black-haired older woman, if not so old as Khaliost. She wore dark leathers, despite the warmth of summer, and the red leather gloves and belt of a Khellan Eleni.
Quaeryt knew he had seen her before.
“The Hall of Heaven,” murmured Vaelora.
The Eleni who tested us.
Quaeryt waited until the two reached the top of the steps and stood opposite them, then offered the sole Pharsi greeting he knew, and then in Bovarian, “Welcome to the Chateau Regis, Councilor and honored Eleni.”
Vaelora added a few words in Pharsi.
Khaliost inclined his head. “Your men have treated us well, Son of Erion and Daughter of the Greater Moon, but we are glad to be here.”
“We have refreshments for you inside,” said Vaelora, stepping back.
The Eleni studied the chateau, then looked to Quaeryt. “Your imagers are skilled.”
“Some of them. Others are just powerful.”
She merely nodded thoughtfully.
Once the four of them were seated in the receiving parlor, and Khaliost and Vaelora had sipped some of the white wine, and the Eleni and Quaeryt had tried the pale lager, Khaliost looked across the circular table.
“I stopped to talk to the Khellan officers and troopers in Kephria,” said the white-haired councilor.
“What did you discover?” asked Vaelora.
“That Liantiago belongs to Lord Bhayar. We knew that. The High Council would not have sent me otherwise. I wished to know how that had happened. They told me.” Khaliost turned slightly to address Quaeryt directly. “They also told me that there are at least four other imagers of great power, although you are more than a great imager, and far more than a mere commander.” His eyes shifted to Vaelora. “And you see more than any woman, even any Eherelani or Eleni, should see. The majors told me you lost your daughter protecting them.”