Ordermaster

LXXV

Midmorning on threeday found Kharl and Alynar in the carriage, heading through a warm drizzle toward the residence of the Sarronnese envoy. That was assuming that Luryessa would speak to him-if she was even still in Brysta. Kharl wasn’t above begging for information, not after his meeting with Lord West, and not after Erdyl had reported late on twoday afternoon that none of the envoys who had been absent from Brysta had returned and that two others-from Lydiar and Delapra-had also left Brysta.

The outer gates to the Sarronnese residence were open, and Mantar brought the carriage up the drive and to a halt under the receiving portico. Kharl opened the door and stepped out of the carriage. “Just wait here with Mantar,” he told Alynar.

“Yes, ser.”

The duty guard stiffened as Kharl approached.

“I’m Lord Kharl of Austra. I’d like to see Envoy Luryessa, if she’s here.”

“Ser … I can’t say. I’ll summon her assistant.”

“That’s fine.” What else could he say? So he stood under the portico, out of the drizzle. The rain wasn’t strong enough to be a true late-summer rain, but sometimes several days of light rain preceded the downpours that announced the end of summer.

The door opened, and a dark-haired woman stood there. She wore a short-sleeved, plain, dark blue shirt and matching trousers. A lock of unruly hair crossed her forehead, and, as if she had noted his observation, she brushed it back. “Lord Kharl?” A sense of blackness-order-rather than the white of chaos-flowed around the woman. Somehow, after meeting Luryessa, he hadn’t expected a Sarronnese order-mage.

“You must be Jemelya.” Kharl offered a pleasant smile.

“I am. You must be here to see Luryessa. She thought you might come by unannounced at some time. You are fortunate. She is here, in her study. If you would like to come in?”

″Thank you.″

Kharl followed her to the library, then to the open door to the private study.

Luryessa did not rise from the desk, but smiled. “Do come in. You might close the door for me.”

Kharl did and settled into a straight-backed chair across from her. “Jemelya said you were expecting me.”

“I thought you might come. You are inexperienced as an envoy, but most perceptive. If you came anywhere, it would likely be here.”

Kharl found he was neither surprised nor angered by her calm presumption. “I’m sorry to stop unannounced-″

“Don’t apologize. It’s better that you didn’t. Already, the word is out that you’re a minor mage.” A smile danced on Luryessa’s lips and in her hazel eyes.

“You had something to do with that?”

“Only the ′minor′ part.” The smile faded. “We will be returning to Sarron for consultations with the Tyrant. So we will be closing the residence, tomorrow or the next day, whenever our ships arrive.”

“Ships? Warships?” Then Kharl shook his head. “That’s to make sure that they arrive.”

Luryessa nodded.

“What else should I know? That you can tell me?”

The mischievous smile returned. “You have just met with Lord West and his eldest. You must know far more than a mere woman.”

Kharl snorted. “I am most certain that you have noticed that there are no regular armsmen in Brysta and that the patrollers loyal to Captain Egen effectively control the city. Doubtless you already know that their uniforms came from Hamor, and that the road leading to Surien has been designed by Hamorian engineers. It is a very good road, by the way.″

“Yes. You have a point?”

Kharl decided not to make it-not yet. “I am also quite sure that you know that Captain Egen controls-or influences strongly-the lord justicers and that they have been instructed to find any way possible to sentence those who commit minor offenses to the quarries or the road-buildingcrew. And that at least some wealthy factors who support Osten have left Brysta.”

“I suspected that, but I did not know that. Your point, Lord Kharl?″

“I don′t think that either Lord West or Osten understands what all that means. You do, if I understood the message about the late-summer rains.”

“You discovered this by some sort of magery?”

Kharl shook his head. “Just by talking and listening to Ostcrag and Osten. They also knew something about me, but I don′t think they understood what that meant, either.”

“You had best hope that they do not.”

“No … I’d best hope that Egen doesn’t. Or the Hamorians.”

“I am most certain that they do know. All of them. The Hamorians only have two or three, wizards here. At the moment.” Luryessa smiled sadly. “A fleet was being provisioned in Swartheld two eightdays ago. It was being readied to head northwest. With at least several more white wizards.”

Kharl couldn’t say that he was surprised. He would have been astonished if Luryessa had suggested that all was well. “Lord West suggested that he-and Austra-were being caught between Hamor and Recluce and needed to tread carefully. He believes that. So does Osten.”

“That is because Egen and the Hamorians have prepared the ground well.”

“How soon?” asked Kharl.

Luryessa shrugged. “Soon, but I cannot name a date. It is not likely this eightday, but not impossible. You have changed everything.”

“Me?”

“Oh … they do not know that. None of them do except Whetorak and his assistants, and Whetorak will say nothing until additional white wizards arrive. He has heard of your exploits in Austra, and he is most cautious. Otherwise, Egen would now be poised to take Brysta at the first true rains.”

Kharl had surmised as much, but it was still a double shock to hear Luryessa’s words-first, her casual revelation that she understood just who he was and, second, her confirmation that Egen and the Hamorians were indeed planning to topple Lord West.

“Egen feels his father is weak and that his brothers are little better …″ Luryessa noted.

“Whetorak is encouraging that, I would wager.”

“I won′t take that wager.” The Sarronnese smiled. “So what do you plan to do?”

Kharl really hadn’t thought that through.

“Will you just watch? Or throw your abilities behind Osten and Lord West, incompetent as they are?”

“What would you do?” he countered. “You’re a sorceress.”

“I’m not in your class, Lord Kharl. Few are. That’s why we’re leaving. We could assassinate Egen, but the Hamorians would know we had. They’d make certain that all the world knew. That’s why our departure will be soon and very public. I just hope that it’s soon enough.”

Kharl sat there for a time, silent. Once again, it seemed that he had created a bigger problem just by showing up and trying to find out what was happening. “A good envoy would have discovered all this without …″ He broke off. He wasn’t certain what he really meant.

“You’re acting like too many men,” Luryessa said dryly. “I expect better of you.”

“You might explain that,” Kharl replied, tartly.

“Oh … that’s simple enough. You’re here something like two eightdays, and you discover what it’s taken the best envoys seasons to figure out, and because you don’t have a ready solution, you’re acting like it’s all your fault. Men … you can’t stand it if you don’t have an answer.”

Kharl winced.

“Of course, you don’t have an answer. You can’t. No one could. You still don’t know everything. I don’t either.” She smiled sardonically. “I don’t have to have an answer. I just have to get my people out of here safely.”

“And I don’t?”

“Were you sent here to leave at the first sign of trouble?”

Kharl smiled wryly. “I wasn’t given any instructions at all in that way.”

“Exactly. Lord Hagen is counting on your sense of responsibility.”

“How large a fleet?”

“Not large. More like a flotilla. Six or seven vessels. Only one troop transport.”

“Is Lord Justicer Lurtedd still close to Osten?”

Luryessa frowned. “He will not cross Egen or Reynol.”

“Would he warn Osten?”

“I would doubt that. He understands that Egen holds more power.”

Kharl nodded slowly.

“I do not envy you, Lord Kharl. Anything you do will have adverse consequences.”

“Some acts less than others, I would hope.”

“That is always true. Do you have other questions that I can answer?”

Kharl knew he should have had scores, but he could think of few, although he knew he would come up with the most important ones only after Luryessa departed. “Where does Egen store his golds-the ones he uses to pay the patrollers?”

“I do not know that for certain, but a storehouse with barred windows and stone walls was erected in the post that serves the south road and the quarries. There is also an underground chamber in the main new barracks on the south side of the city.”

“Is Whetorak truly in command of the Hamorian forces here? Will he remain so?”

“No. Submarshal Teorak-he is the assistant envoy in name-controls all armsmen and lancers and probably will command any additional forces landed in Nordla.”

“Will this Hamorian flotilla try to conquer Surien as well?”

“They will not attempt anything unless there is no one with a claim to rule.”

Kharl wasn’t sure he liked that. The implication was that Osten or Vielam-or even Lord West-needed to survive, for any plan to block Hamorian control to be successful.

“I said that none of the choices would be good,” Luryessa said.

“And you think I should do something?”

“I think nothing. I suggest nothing. I will say that a powerful black mage who is not from Recluce is the only hope for the West Quadrant not to fall under the iron fist of Hamor. And that is but a hope.”

“Most of kind of you.”

“You wanted my judgment, not my flattery.”

Kharl sat there silently for a moment.

Luryessa stood. “If you have no more questions …″

Kharl rose. “I should, but I can’t think of any more.”

“Do what you feel is right. Trust Egen to be himself, and the Hamorians to weigh and be patient, and you may have a chance to change what others think is inevitable.” Luryessa smiled, faintly. “Good day, Lord Kharl. Our best wishes are with you.”

Kharl turned and walked down the corridor to the portico, followed byJemelya. At the archway, he nodded to her, then walked toward the waiting carriage.

Once he was settled into the carriage, Kharl looked blankly at the faded green fabric above the seat across from him. What could he do? He had no ships. He had no lancers or armsmen. He didn’t even know what Egen would do first-or when.

He paused. There was one thing he could do-and should have thought of earlier. He eased the carriage door open and leaned forward, calling to the driver. “Mantar!”

“Ser?”

“Take me to the Factors’ Exchange!”

“The Factors’ Exchange it is, ser.”

Alynar looked at Kharl, but didn’t speak.

“We might need a few more golds on hand,” Kharl said. He wasn’t certain the guard fully appreciated what he was saying, but Kharl didn′t feel like explaining in more detail.

At the Factors’ Exchange, Kharl managed to draw two hundred golds, claiming that the terms of his arrangement allowed two eightdays’ draw at any one time. He doubted he’d get away with that again, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to.

After the carriage left the Factors’ Exchange, he tried to think about what was most likely to happen. While Egen would not need the Hamorian warships immediately, Kharl couldn’t see the captain starting his revolt without them. At the very least, their long guns could reduce the Quadrancy Keep, if necessary. Luryessa was right about the timing. If the rains came, then Osten and Lord West could not move their loyal troops against Brysta and Hagen’s patrollers that easily.

A quick campaign would also end before harvest, and that would leave Egen with the full amount of the year’s tariffs in his coffers. Then, mused Kharl, while Egen planned for a quick campaign, that did not mean it would be so-or that Whetorak and the Hamorians would want a quick resolution.

When Mantar brought the carriage to a halt at the residence, Kharl headed for the strong room inside. He’d no more than locked the door, after putting most of the golds in the chest, and gotten halfway up the rear steps to the back hall when he saw Khelaya standing there.

“Lord Kharl …″

“What is it?”

“Best you talk to Enelya, ser. Some other tavern girl just left. The poor thing’s sobbing her heart out, talking about leaving …”

“Where is she?”

“In the back pantry. You need to see to her afore she goes off wild-like.”

Kharl took a deep breath. “I’ll do that.” Even if dealing with a sobbing Enelya was the last thing he felt like doing.

Enelya looked up as he stepped into the pantry. Tears coursed down her cheeks. She swallowed.

“What is it?” asked Kharl.

Enelya just shuddered. She said nothing.

Kharl forced himself to be calm. Then he reached out with his order-senses, trying to create a sense of reassurance. “You can tell me now.”

“Selda …” Enelya’s eyes widened, but she said nothing more.

“What about Selda?”

“Nalona … Marya … they found her with her throat cut … all her fingers broken …”

Kharl had a feeling he knew who the woman was, but decided he should ask. “Selda? Who is Selda?”

“She was another server … White Pony …”

“Long-faced, with blond hair?”

Enelya nodded, trying to stop sobbing. “ … only friend … really … except …” She closed her mouth abruptly.

“Except Jeka, you mean?”

Enelya gaped at Kharl.

“Did Selda know about Jeka?”

“Don′t know what you’re sayin’, ser.”

“I know about Jeka, and I know where she is-and where she was. If Selda knew … how safe will Jeka be? Did Selda know?” Kharl’s voice was hard, demanding. “What did she know?”

“Only knew she-Jeka-was in trade … somewhere on Crafters’ Lane.”

“Why was Egen after you? It wasn’t just because you told him no, was it?”

“ … told him no … two things … he was askin’ about a girl dressin’ as a boy … told me I was lyin′ when I said I didn’t know.”

“Why would he care about that?”

“The old fellow … the beggar … once was a cooper, they say …killed one of Egen’s killers and got clean away … Folks talk about it … guess it curdled him … folks saw’em together …”

Kharl swallowed. Then he straightened. “You’ll still be safer here. Don’t go anywhere. We’ll talk later.” Kharl turned. “Demyst! Alynar! Cevor! Erdyl!”

“Lord Kharl?” asked Khelaya.

“We’ve got-I′ve got-another problem. You and Fundal and Mantar-make sure Enelya stays here. Tie her up of you have to, but she leaves here … they’ll get her, too.”

“Who’ll get her?”

Kharl decided to ignore the question. He wasn’t certain he knew, except that they worked for Egen. Or maybe Egen himself had killed Selda. He’d always liked to hurt people. “I don’t have time to explain now.”

Leaving Khelaya standing in the back hall, Kharl hurried up the stairs to reclaim the sabrelike truncheon and sword belt. He was still belting it in place as he hurried back down the front staircase.

Demyst was standing in the corridor. “Ser?”

“We’ll need the mounts. As soon as possible, and one extra.” Kharl winced at those words. The last time he’d brought an extra mount had been for Warrl. He’d only been three seasons too late.

“Yes, ser.”

Kharl followed the undercaptain out to the stable. He chafed at every moment it took to saddle the mounts, and at his own slowness in saddling the gentle gelding he’d ridden south. The drizzle had turned to mist, then lifted into low clouds that still suggested rain, but none was falling as he led the gelding from the stable and mounted.

Once they were away from the residence, and headed westward toward Crafters’ Lane, higher on the harbor side of the hill, Kharl turned in the saddle to the undercaptain. “We’re headed to the weaver’s-Gharan’s. Egen′s After …” He paused. He’d never mentioned Jeka. “ … someone there who helped me a lot. I need to get her out of there and warn Gharan.”

“Yes, ser.”

Kharl studied both sides of the street as they rode down from Sixth Cross. He didn′t see any sign of patrollers nearby. For that he was glad as he reined up outside Gharan’s shop. “Wait here,” he told Demyst as he dismounted, and handed the gelding’s reins to the undercaptain. “Let me know if any patrollers are headed this way.”

Demyst nodded. “Erdyl can come get you.”

Kharl hurried into the shop.

Gharan looked up from his loom. “Kharl? I mean, Lord Kharl. What is it?”

“Where’s Jeka?”

“She’s upstairs with Amyla and the children. Why?”

“She’s got to leave. Right now.”

“You wanted me to take her, and now that-″

“Egen’s after her. She stays here, and he’ll find her.” Kharl fumbled through his wallet, and finally extracted five golds. “Here. I don′t think Egen is after anyone else. If he asks about your weaver girl, you tell him that she left and didn’t say where she was going. If it looks like trouble, just come to the envoy’s residence. If you can’t find me there, or I’ve had to leave Nordla, the golds should be enough for passage to Valmurl. If it comes to that, I’ll take care of all of you at Cantyl.”

Gharan’s mouth opened. Then he closed it. “We … Brysta is our home.”

“If you don’t have trouble, then you can keep the golds. Call them payment for my upsetting your life.” Kharl saw a flash of sandy blonde hair. “Jeka!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Coming to get you.”

“Just like that? Like a fancy lord?”

Kharl forced himself to take a deep breath. “It’s not like that. I told you that Enelya was working for me? Well … you know Selda, at the White Pony?”

Jeka’s face froze for a moment.

“Egen or his men cut her throat. That was after they broke her fingers. They wanted to know something. Egen was after Enelya, and Selda knew about you and that you’d been the one who’d told Enelya where she could hide from Egen. She knew some other things, too.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s after me.”

For a moment, Kharl didn’t know what to say.

“Well?” asked Jeka, green eyes flashing.

“He is after you. He only knows you’re somewhere on Crafters’ Lane. Didn’t I know when that wizard-”

Jeka’s jaw tightened. “Doesn’t change anything if I go with you.”

“Not that way,” Kharl agreed. “Just grab everything you can. I’ve got a horse outside for you.”

“Can’t ride.”

“You’ll learn, and if you can’t, you can hang on to me.”

“I’ll learn. Right now.”

“Just get your things. Don′t leave anything. Otherwise, they might think that Gharan is hiding you somewhere.”

“Already figured that out.” Jeka turned and hurried toward the narrow rear steps to the upper level.

Kharl turned back to the weaver. “Egen might not ever come here. But he or his men might be here this afternoon. I can’t risk losing Jeka. Not … after everything.” He swallowed. “I didn′t mean to cause you trouble. If you want to leave right now … you can. You can stay at the envoy’s residence …”

Gharan shook his head. “Weaver girls come and go. Everyone knows that. I’ll just let it be known that she said she had a chance to go home.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure … Lord Kharl.” Gharan flashed a smile. “If we see trouble, we’ll be at your door. I’m not a fool. Don’t think it will come to that, though.”

Jeka reappeared, carrying a burlap bag and wearing a shapeless jacket over her blue shirt, as well as a cap, under which she’d swept up her hair. She looked boyish once more. “I’m ready.” Abruptly, she turned to Gharan and hugged him. “Be thankin′ you, always.”

After a moment, Gharan bent down and murmured in Jeka’s ear, low enough that Kharl wasn′t supposed to hear it. “You did good work, better’n almost all. But I wouldn’t a’ given you the chance, weren’t for Kharl. Don’t forget it.” He straightened.

Kharl didn’t say anything, appreciating Gharan′s words.

“You two goin’ to keep jawing? We stay here, just cause trouble for the weaver,” Jeka said.

“Thank you,” Kharl said to Gharan, inclining his head before turning.

“It was my gain,” Gharan said. “I’ll send to the residence when the cloth is ready.”

“If I have to leave Brysta,” Kharl said, “I’ll have one of the merchanters pay for it and pick it up.”

“Your word’s always been good.” Gharan grinned. “‘Sides, you left a good deposit.”

Kharl hurried out of the shop.

“No sign of patrollers, not even a street Watch,” Demyst told Kharl.

That was a troublesome thought as well. Where were the patrollers?

Kharl turned to Jeka. “This horse.”

She looked at the saddle dubiously. Her face was pale.

Kharl reached out and lifted her, mostly by her arms and shoulders, and set her in the saddle. “Hang on to the reins with one hand, the saddle rim with the other. I’ll take your bag until we get there.”

He remounted the gelding and turned his mount back toward Sixth Cross. He glanced back at Jeka, riding beside Alynar. She grimaced at him. He gave an exaggerated shrug, then lurched in the saddle. He still wasn′t that good a rider. He could sense her smothered laughter.

“Street’s real quiet, ser,” observed Demyst. “Could be trouble.”

“Likely in the next few days. How are you doing on finding guards?”

“One’s coming round this afternoon. Maybe two.”

“Let’s hope they’re good.”

“One might be. The others … who knows?”

Kharl keep watching the roads, both with eyes and senses, but he saw no patrollers, nor did he sense any unusual amount of chaos. Even so, he was relieved when they finally reined up in the open space before the residence stable. He dismounted and turned the gelding to Mantar, before walking over to Jeka’s mount.

Kharl held out a hand. Jeka took it, but only long enough to scramble down. He took the mount’s reins with one hand and gave her the burlap bag with the other before she could request it.

“Now what?” asked Jeka.

“You can take one of the empty rooms on the third level.”

“Where’s Enelya?”

“In the retainer quarters there.” Kharl gestured.

“Why not put me out where she is?”

“Because you’re not a retainer here. You’re a guest.”

“A guest in a lord’s house? What kind of guest?” Jeka glared.

Kharl could feel Demyst and Erdyl edging away, leading their mounts into the stable with relief. Mantar stood by the open stable door, holding the reins to Kharl’s gelding, waiting.

“You can have one of the large bedrooms on the second level, then.”

“That where your room is?”

Kharl nodded.

“Third level’s better. Door better have a bar.”

“It has a latchplate. It’s very solid.”

“Good.”

Kharl led the mount over to Mantar. “Thank you.”

“Not at all, ser.” The driver, who was also the groom, did not look directly at Kharl, but Kharl could sense his amusement.

The mage and envoy turned back to Jeka. “This way.”

Fundal and Khelaya were waiting inside the rear hallway. Kharl could sense Enelya in the rear pantry. “Enelya, you might as well come greet Jeka.” Kharl waited, ignoring the impatience of the steward and cook, until the serving girl appeared. “Fundal, Khelaya, this is Jeka. She’ll be staying with us for a while. Up on the third level. Enelya already knows Jeka.”

Fundal glanced at Jeka.

The small woman looked hard back at the steward.

Fundal edged back.

“Captain Egen is after her as well. Not a word,” Kharl ordered.

“Yes, ser.”

Kharl could sense Fundal’s puzzlement, but he wasn’t about to explain. He wasn’t sure that he could. He turned to Enelya. “If you would take Jeka up to the third level? She can have any chamber she wishes-except the ones being used by the guards and Undercaptain Demyst.”

“Yes, ser.”

“I’m going to my chamber for a bit. Then I’ll be in the library.” Kharl left the four in the rear hall and made his way to the front staircase.

Once he was halfway up and out of sight, he called up a sight shield and hurried up and then along the corridor past his chamber and to the door to the rear staircase. There he waited until the two women passed the landing before opening the door just enough to slip inside.

“ … look!”

“Look where?” asked Jeka.

“Thought someone comin’ from there. Maybe Lord Kharl just shut the door,” replied Enelya.

“He’s really a lord?”

“He is. Erdyl-he’s sorta nice-he was telling me that Lord Kharl has lands with a vineyard and forests and a sawmill. And you know what he did? He built a cooperage with his own hands. A lord who wants to be a cooper. Doesn’t that beat all.”

Kharl listened, wondering what Jeka would say.

“Takes all kinds,” the weaver replied. “He found you back of Werwal′s? That right?”

“Didn’t know where else to go.”

The two reached the top of the stairs and turned toward the front of the residence.

“Best room left is in the front, west side. Sun doesn’t wake you.”

“Good enough.” Jeka cleared her throat. “Lord Kharl … he … interested in you?”

Enelya laughed. “He’s interested in you. He found out that Selda knew where you were … look on his face … think he woulda shaken me like a rat … he was runnin′ for the stable.” There was a moment of silence. “Good-looking fellow. Older, but not that old. Wouldn’t mind someone like that …”

“No! Not even for a lord.”

“Pretty choosy, you are. Especially for someone who was hiding as a boy. You ever-”

Kharl moved slightly closer as Enelya opened the door.

“Oh …” The involuntary exclamation from Jeka tore at Kharl. “Never …”

“He likes you,” said Enelya.

“Leave me’lone.”

“All right.” Another silence followed. “He’s good to people. You don’t bed him, fine. Leastwise be nice to him. Don’t spoil it for the rest of us.” Enelya slipped out of the front chamber, closing the door softly.

Kharl flattened himself against the wall, remaining silent while the serving girl passed him. Then he eased forward. Was Jeka humming? Singing?

He stopped. She was sobbing.

He swallowed, then turned and made his way back to his own chamber. Not until he was certain that he was alone did he release the sight shield. He stood at the window, looking down at the side garden. Jeka … sobbing?

He stood at the window for a long time.

At around the second glass of the afternoon, he finally went downstairs to the library.

For all his worry about Jeka, he still had to consider what he might do when Brysta erupted into fighting. The clouds had lifted more, and hazysunlight bathed Brysta. Still, it would not be that long before the summer-end rains arrived.

He settled behind the desk and took out a markstick. He couldn’t think of what to write. Or what he could do. Killing Egen made the most sense, and if there had been an Egen in Austra …

Kharl laughed, ironically. Ilteron had been much like Egen, except he’d been Ghrant’s older brother, and Kharl had killed him with magery. But that had been in a battle. No, Kharl had killed when necessary, but was it something that he should do as an envoy?

Being an envoy made matters harder, not easier. As just a mage and cooper, and not an envoy, for what Egen had done to Kharl and those he loved, Kharl could have killed the captain without a qualm. But … would that be the best thing to do? For that matter, where was Egen? Kharl didn’t dare try to travel south again. He frowned. Egen might well be at Werwal’s trial the next day. Kharl could get a sense then. If Egen was not, he might be able to ask the others where the captain was. That would be far quicker than searching blindly.

He nodded, then began to sketch out a rough map of Brysta, using an older map in one of the histories as a rough guide, but updating it from what he knew. He needed to know how long it might take to get from the two barracks to the Quadrancy Keep-or to the harbor piers and other places.

Before Kharl knew it, Khelaya was standing in the doorway.

“Supper is served, Lord Kharl … the others …″

″Oh … I’m sorry.″ Kharl rose quickly and hurried to the dining chamber.

His place at the end of the table was empty, of course. The others stood behind their chairs, Erdyl was to his right, and Demyst to his left. Jeka stood to the left of the undercaptain. She still wore the weaver’s blue, but it became her, especially in the soft lamplight of the evening.

″Please …″ Kharl gestured for them to sit. “I was working on some maps.”

“You missed the midday meal, too,” Erdyl said.

Kharl hadn’t even thought about eating then. That might have been why his stomach decided to growl. After he seated himself, he filled his beaker with lager and handed the pitcher to Demyst, knowing that Erdyl would have wine, as the secretary always did.

Khelaya set three platters in the middle of the table, the main dish, something like flankaar, closest to Kharl. He served himself and handed the platter to Erdyl.

“Ah … ser,” Erdyl began.

“Yes?”

“Just a while ago, there were two warships standing off the breakwater.”

“Sarronnese, I’d wager,” Kharl said, taking a helping of some cooked and wilted greenery he did not recognize. “Did you find out?”

“Cevor said they looked Sarronnese. Oh, and the Gallosian envoy has decided to go hunting somewhere north of Sagana.”

“Not much to hunt there,” observed Jeka.

“He’s not really hunting,” Kharl said, “unless it’s for a place to hide from what’s coming.”

The faintest look of puzzlement crossed Jeka’s face, then vanished.

“We think that Captain Egen may decide he should be the next Lord West,” Kharl said blandly.

“Won’t stay lord long.”

“Because he’s too mean?”

“Likes to hurt people,” Jeka said. “More people find that out, fewer folks′ll support him, or fight for him.”

Kharl laughed, softly. “You’re right about that, but a lot of people could get hurt before people find out. Lord West-the present one-isn′t too kind, either.” He took a sip of the lager. It tasted flat, but that wasn’t the lager, he suspected.

They ate in silence for a time. Kharl studied Jeka, trying not to be too obvious. One thing was clear. She watched the others, and copied their manners and how they used cutlery and how they drank. Finally, as he finished the last of the mutton flankaar, Kharl turned to her.

“Is your room all right?”

“It’s fine.”

Fundal appeared in the archway. “Undercaptain … I hate to intrude, but …”

“Sestalt is here?”

“Yes, ser.”

Demyst looked to Kharl. “If you would excuse me, ser?”

“Go ahead.”

Erdyl glanced at Kharl. “Ser?”

Kharl nodded.

After the two men had left, Jeka looked at Kharl. “You managed that nice.”

“I didn’t manage it. Undercaptain Demyst is trying to hire more guards. He told me that they would be coming this afternoon or evening.”

“Don’t want your assistant around me, either.”

Kharl wanted to sigh. Instead, he laughed. “You’re right. He said you were pretty. You are. But it bothered me.”

“Never said that to me before.”

“I shouldn’t now,” he said. “You told me nothing had changed.”

“Hasn’t. Woulda been nice to hear, though.”

Kharl thought he understood. “I’m sorry. I didn′t understand. I’ve thought about … everything.”

“Friends … right now.” Jeka looked directly at Kharl. “Please?”

“For now,” Kharl agreed. Not that he had any choice, he realized.

To the side, there was a cough. Demyst stood in the doorway. “Ser … I thought you should meet Sestalt.”

Kharl didn’t know whether to be relieved or displeased as he rose from the table. But then, that seemed to be the way everything was headed.