L. Modesitt - Ordermaster

“Some are, and some aren’t. That’s like lords. Some are large, and some aren’t,” replied Kharl.

Lady Jacelyna giggled, a high-pitched sound that grated on Kharl’s ears. She turned her head, and said, “He has you on that, dearest.”

The higher heels of the ladies’ boots clicked on the stone tile of the porch. Only the youngest, Meyena, turned before entering the house. She stepped aside and looked out across the harbor. “The view is quite lovely, Lord Kharl.”

The late-afternoon sun had turned the harbor water, smooth because there was no wind, into a silvered expanse that seemed to meld into the trees on the north shore.

“It is, and there are times when I have stood here and watched for almost a glass.” Kharl offered a polite smile, waiting for her to enter the foyer that opened onto the sitting room to the right. On the left was the study, where, out of prudence, he’d tucked the ledgers into the larger drawer on the right side of the desk.

Adelya’s daughter Heldya was standing behind the serving table in the sitting room as the five entered. She did not speak.

“This is most elegant, if spare,” remarked Jacelyna. “It reflects a man’s taste.”

More than anything, Kharl reflected, the house showed the absence of anyone living in it for any length of time, but he merely nodded.

After Heldya handed a delicate goblet filled with the amber Rhynn wine from the estate to Jacelyna, the lady took a sip, then said, “This is quite good.”

“Thank you. Glyan is an outstanding vintner, and I’m fortunate in that. He claims that the Rhynn is as good as that anywhere.” Kharl stood back as Heldya offered goblets to Arynal and his daughters as well.

“Arynal had said that you have been serving Lord Ghrant most of the time since you gained Cantyl,” Jacelyna continued.

Kharl noted that the lady had only made a statement, but decided to answer the question that had not been asked. “I did what was necessary.”

“Emelor-he’s Lord Vertyn’s son,” Arynal said, “and I guess that makes him lord now, or will once Lord Ghrant proclaims it-he was saying that you took on something like five white wizards.”

Kharl thought for a moment, then nodded. “I was fortunate.”

Arynal laughed, and his wine almost slopped out of the crystal goblet. “Most times, white wizards turn black mages into charcoal. Been years since a black took on so many whites and won. Leastwise, that’s what Emelor said. Is that so, Lord Kharl?”

“That’s something I wouldn’t know. There haven’t been many fights between wizards and mages in the last few years. I don’t know of any.”

“Hmmm …” mused the older lord. “Might be true at that. Not since the fall of Fairven, anyway” He laughed again. “Still … it’s good to know that our Lord of Austra has a mage of power. It can’t hurt to have you here, either, not that we’ve seen brigands in more than a score of years.”

“You came from Nordla, did you not?” asked Jacelyna, before her consort could say more.

“Brysta,” Kharl replied. “It’s very different. Lord West is not the fairest of lords. Lord Ghrant, for all his youth, seems to me to be a far better ruler.” He really didn’t want to discuss his past, not with people he’d never met.

“Is it true,” asked Norelle, “that you were once in … trade?”

Kharl offered a laugh. “That’s fair to say. I once had a cooperage in Brysta. It was the best in the city-until I rescued a young woman who’d been attacked by Lord West’s son.” He shrugged. “I had to leave Brysta, then.” Actually, he’d rescued three young women, if one counted Jeka as well as Sanyle and Jenevra. He couldn’t forget Jeka, or her fierce green eyes.

Meyena’s eyes widened. Norelle appeared unbelieving, and while Kharl was not attracted to either young woman, he was rapidly developing a dislike for Norelle, little as she had said.

“You were exiled?”

“No. I might as well have been. My consort died, and Lord West took my cooperage. My eldest went to sea, and my younger boy went to live with his aunt. It was time for me to leave.”

“You were an officer on one of the lord-chancellor’s ships, I understand,” Arynal said smoothly, after a sharp look at Norelle.

“I was. After I joined the Seastag, I began to learn about being a mage.”

“You didn’t know before?” Meyena’s voice was gentle, and not critical.

Kharl offered her a smile. “No. I was later told by other mages that Ihad always had the talent, but I had not known I had it.” After a pause, he looked to Arynal. “I must confess that I know little about your lands. Could you tell me a bit?”

Arynal finished a sip of the wine. “Good stuff.” He moistened his lips. “Well … you’ve got mostly hills and timberlands here, except for the valley and the vineyards. We’re west of your hills, and it’s mostly rolling meadows. Sheep, that’s what fits our lands best. Some cattle as well.”

“And the peach orchards,” added Jacelyna.

“Best peaches this side of Bruel, they say, except they only grow well on the south side of the ridge in the red soil there.” The older lord took another sip of the amber wine. “Meadows run about eight kays north-south, and ten east-west. Not really, but that’s close enough …”

Kharl listened, asking a question or two, for almost half a glass, until Adelya slipped into place in the archway from the sitting room to the dining room. When Arynal paused, she looked to Kharl. “Lord … at your pleasure, ser.”

“Thank you. ” Kharl inclined his head to his guests, gesturing toward the long cherry table that dominated the dining room. The ancient bronze oil lamps in the wall sconces had already been lit and supplied a golden glow to the chamber.

Kharl took his seat at the head of the table, with Arynal to his left and Jacelyna to his right. Meyena was beside her father. Both Heldya and Adelya served. There were two main dishes. One was the honeyed and cheese-stuffed fowl breasts, and the other was flaankar-thin tubes of rarish beef filled with soft white cheese and parsley and covered with a white butter sauce. Then came the cheese lace potatoes, and the pickled beans-since it was too early in the year for any fresh vegetables.

Adelya set two pitchers of wine on the table, and looked at Kharl as she did.

“You can choose between the white and the red wine,” he said. “I like the red, myself, but many prefer the white, especially with fowl. It’s the same Rhynn as you had earlier.” He wouldn’t have known that, but for Adelya’s words to him earlier in the afternoon.

“White is always better with fowl,” observed Norelle. “For those with delicate palates.”

“It is a matter of taste, dear child,” replied Arynal, emphasizing the word child ever so slightly. “Tastes do differ.”

“That is what makes the world an interesting place,” added Jacelyna.

“I think I would prefer the red,” said Meyena.

Kharl managed to keep a straight face as he handed the pitcher with the red in it to Arynal. “Lord Hagen is also quite fond of the red.”

“The lord-chancellor is known to be a man of good taste.” Arynal half filled Meyena’s goblet.

When all the goblets had been filled, Kharl lifted his glass. “It may not be exactly proper, but I’d like to drink to you all, the first of my neighbors to have shared a meal with me.”

“Excellent idea!” Arynal lifted his goblet as well.

For a time, conversation lagged as Kharl had several bites of both fowl and flaankar, as well as a chunk of the sweet dark bread that held juicy raisins.

“I’ve not had flaankar this tasty in years,” Arynal said, after several mouthfuls.