“I will be a faithful High Holder, now that I know who rules and how. I also have managed well, and Bartolan is prosperous, if smaller than other holdings. I did not spend golds on armsmen, and that cost me dearly. I have but one son remaining, and no daughters. It cannot hurt your lord to retain the one surviving High Holder in the south-”
“Were all of the border holders at Barna?” asked Quaeryt.
“Four of the five were, Commander. Gaaslon was not. He took all his golds and made his way toward Hassyl. He said he could not fight a son of Erion and Lord Bhayar and that he and his family would leave Lydar before submitting to the whelp of a Yaran warlord.”
Quaeryt could sense Vaelora stiffening, but he merely smiled politely. “He is welcome to his opinion. He has paid dearly for it.” He turned to Vaelora and raised his eyebrows to inquire if she had any more questions.
She shook her head.
“You may leave the chamber and wait to hear what we decide.”
Both Basalyt and Baarlan rose and bowed, more to Vaelora than Quaeryt, and left the chamber. So, after a nod from Quaeryt, did Khalis and Lhandor.
Once they were alone, Quaeryt turned to Vaelora. “What do you think?”
“He’s sincere … or as sincere as any High Holder is likely to be. It wouldn’t hurt to keep one of the original High Holders. That would still leave four holdings that Bhayar could bestow. It would also show that he can be merciful … to some degree.”
“I don’t like the idea of his retaining the holding. If he does, that’s a precedent-even in one out of five-that Bhayar may regret. What if we insist that the holding go to Barlaan, who can rely on his sire for advice? That way, no one can say that Bhayar can’t be merciful to a degree to the family. It would also make the point that Bhayar can remove individual High Holders and replace them with heirs who are more loyal.”
“How do you explain that?” Vaelora glanced toward the closed door, then back to Quaeryt. “They took up arms.”
“Barlaan didn’t fight against us. We don’t have to get into the reason why he didn’t, and Basalyt isn’t going to say anything, not if it means that the family loses everything.”
The two talked for another quint before Quaeryt walked to the door and called, “Have Basalyt and Barlaan return!” Then he returned to the table and sat beside Vaelora as the undercaptains and two troopers returned, followed by the former High Holder and his son.
Barlaan kept looking to Quaeryt, while Basalyt’s eyes were fixed on Vaelora.
Vaelora waited until the chamber was absolutely still. “As empowered by Lord Bhayar we have heard your appeal. Our decision is this. You, Basalyt, former High Holder of Bartolan, may live out your days on the holding. You will not be High Holder. Ever. From this day forward, your son and heir, Barlaan, will be High Holder, and only his direct heirs may inherit the holding. If there is any failing to meet the obligations of a High Holder to Lord Bhayar, or those acting in his name, or if any deception has been practiced in presenting this appeal, the judgment will be revoked and the holding will revert to Lord Bhayar. So be it.”
“Thank you, Lady and Commander,” replied Basalyt. “That is a just decision.”
Let us hope it’s also a wise one, thought Quaeryt. “High Holder Barlaan, you may rebuild a hold house, but it may not have walls or moats or gates, or any form of fortification.”
Barlaan nodded.
Quaeryt thought he looked slightly stunned.
Basalyt cleared his throat. “There is one thing you should know, Lady and Commander. Chaellonyt, the son of Chaelaet, has sworn vengeance against the submarshal who destroyed Laetor and slaughtered his father at Barna. He is Chaelaet’s surviving son, and he did not go to fight in Liantiago. He has claimed that nothing will stop him. I would not want it said that I knew something and did not reveal it.”
“Did he say this to you?” asked Quaeryt.
“No, sir. I heard this from his assistant steward. It was Loetnyn who told me. He is a most honest man, and I trust him. Loetnyn told me because he felt Chaelaet had treated us ill, and he did not wish more ill to fall on us.”
“Is there anything else Lord Bhayar should know?” asked Vaelora.
“Not that I know, Lady.” Basalyt inclined his head.
Quaeryt and Vaelora exchanged glances.
“Then this hearing is at an end,” she declared. “You may return to Bartolan. You will receive a written record of this judgment shortly, and a copy will also go to Lord Bhayar.”
Neither Quaeryt nor Vaelora stood until the two men had left.
Then they rose.
“We’ll need to send a message to Skarpa with the other dispatches about this Chaellonyt,” said Quaeryt. “Someone who is that angry could be a real danger.”
“It’s a good thing he has Voltyr and Threkhyl.”
“I’d still be happier if Chaellonyt had died in one of the battles.”
“You can’t do everything, dearest,” murmured Vaelora. “Nor do matters ever go as smoothly as we might wish.”
“No … but…” Quaeryt shook his head. He had the feeling that he’d missed or forgotten something, but he honestly couldn’t think what it might have been.
6
“How are you feeling?” asked Quaeryt as he sat down on the simple chair beside the bed. Even with the sun seeping into the old fort in late afternoon on Jeudi, the light was dim.
“I’m a little tired now, but that might be because of all the riding,” replied Vaelora from where she was sitting on the bed, propped up with pillows, and her feet up. She looked at Quaeryt. “We’re not going to leave tomorrow, are we?”
“I’m thinking Samedi or Solayi, depending on how you’re doing tomorrow.”
“I hate feeling weak.”
“You’re not weak. You were wounded, just like any trooper. And you sound like most of them when they’re told they can’t return to duty yet.”
Vaelora offered a mock-glare at Quaeryt.
He grinned back at her.
“You’re making fun of me,” she replied in a doleful voice.
“I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to.”
After several moments of silence, he asked, “What did you think about the meeting with the locals in Geusyn?”
“They weren’t happy.”
“I can’t blame them, but in time things will be much better.” Not that most people who’ve been devastated want to hear that.
“Do you think some of the traders in Geusyn will take your advice and relocate to Kephria?”
“Some will right now. Several have ordered lumber from the mills in the hills. The others will as soon as they see that Kephria is a better location. A factor from farther north, Ghaern, in fact, came to see me while you were resting. He’s already made plans to open a factorage here.” Quaeryt smiled ruefully. “It doesn’t hurt that Ghaern wasn’t burned to the ground by Aliaro’s imagers.”
“The local traders and factors won’t like that.”
“No … but I’ve talked things over with Zhael and Arion. You remember all the goods we removed from Laetor?”
“The ones Khaern had stored in that abandoned shaft? You’re going to use them?”
“There are two pieces we’re taking back to Bhayar-one is a Cloisonyt vase that’s worth close to a hundred golds-but I went over the goods with the majors and wrote out a listing of approximate worth. If they can get that worth, they can use the golds and silvers for provisions, and perhaps to offer a little help to some of the locals. Some of the silver was battered and not worth much more than the metal. I had Khalis and Lhandor image it into silvers that the majors can use immediately. I also left them thirty golds out of what Skarpa sent with me.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“I’ve tried to foresee what they’ll need. I’ve kept the imagers very busy. It does maintain their skills and strength.”
“You’ve been imaging a fair amount, too. Beyond what you did with the pier. I can see it in your eyes.”
“I’ve needed to rebuild my strength as well.”