L. Modesitt - Ordermaster

“Yes, ser.” The young secretary looked glumly at the shelves.

“You have more learning than I do,” Kharl said. “You can do that far faster.”

Erdyl only looked slightly cheered by his envoy’s words.

“The carriage …” Kharl prompted.

“Oh … yes, ser.” The redhead turned and was gone.

Kharl went back to the window, taking in the formal gardens in the bright light outside. At times, where he was and what he was doing seemed almost unreal, as if he were in a dream. Coopers didn’t become mages and envoys, not in the world in which he had grown up. Except that he had, and the world in which he was living was even more dangerous than that of a cooper had been, perhaps because he’d been raised to be a cooper, not a mage or an envoy.

After a quarter glass or so, Kharl gathered the case he was using for notes, the one that held a portable inkpot, paper, and pens, then left the library.

“Lord Kharl?” Fundal stood in the corridor. “Will you be here for the midday meal?”

“A late midday meal, I’d judge.” Kharl had already decided not to spend the entire day at the Hall of Justice, not as hot as it was looking to be.

“Thank you, ser. I’ll tell Khelaya.”

“Thank you, Fundal.”

The carriage was waiting. So were Mantar, Erdyl, and Undercaptain Demyst. Cevor sat outside in the seat beside the driver.

“Mantar,” Kharl said with a smile, “we’ll start with the harbor, just for a quick look, then to the Hall of Justice. After that, you can take Erdyl to the Hamorian envoy’s residence.”

“The harbor, Lord Kharl, then the Hall of Justice, that it is.”

Kharl settled into the carriage, which, spotless as it seemed, bore a faint odor of mold and age. He rubbed his nose, which had begun to itch, then slid open the side window. Perhaps the movement of the carriage would provide some faint semblance of a breeze, despite the heavy still air.

“You think we’ll see more ships in the harbor?” asked Erdyl.

“This isn’t the time of year for heavy trading,” replied Kharl. “Still, I’d have expected a few more vessels.”

Kharl recalled what Erdyl had said about younger women, and he studied the streets and walks, but he saw none. Then, it was fairly early on oneday, and Kharl didn’t recall ever seeing that many young women out, particularly alone. Had they always had to fear Egen and others? Had Kharl just not noticed that? He didn’t have an answer for that question, and no real way to find out. Not now.

As Mantar turned the carriage onto Cargo Road, Kharl began to study the harbor as he could. By the time they were on the flat south of the lower market, Kharl could see a large merchanter easing into a berth on the other side of the same deepwater pier where Hagen’s ship had been tied up.

Kharl studied the ship, then nodded. “It’s another Hamorian.”

“They’ve got four in the harbor now,” observed Erdyl.

“No ships from any other lands here,” added Demyst.

Kharl had noted that the Suthyan vessel had not stayed long, either. He liked what he saw not at all.

Mantar slowed the carriage and turned in the small square short of the piers, to the south of the new patroller barracks, before heading back up Cargo Road. As Kharl looked back, the lower market seemed smaller, but that might have been because Kharl had changed, and not the marketplace itself.

Before long, the carriage slowed outside the Hall of Justice. Demyst opened the door and stepped out, glancing around, his hand on the hilt of his sabre. Kharl followed.

“When should I return, ser?” asked Mantar.

“A glass past noon.”

“A glass past noon,” repeated the driver. “Very good, ser.”

As the carriage pulled away with Erdyl looking glumly from the open window, Kharl turned toward the main doors of the hall. Undercaptain Demyst hurried forward and opened the left one. Inside was cooler than outside under the hot morning sun, but not all that much so, despite the dimness of the main foyer.

One of the two patroller guards in maroon and blue stationed outside the double doors of the inner hall stepped forward, then stopped, as if he recognized Kharl.

“Lord Kharl is going up to the library,” Demyst announced.

The guard watched, but said nothing as Kharl and the undercaptain turned and made their way up the narrow staircase.

Neither Fasyn nor the other clerk happened to be in his chambers, although one chamber had a wall lamp lit. They might have been in the Hall of Justice or conferring with the lord justicers.

Just before the library archway, Kharl stopped, recalling the rifles in the residence barracks and Hagen’s warnings. He turned to the undercaptain. “I think it might be better if you watched the hallway here, and the top of the stairs. That way, someone can′t get too close without being seen.”

“See …?”

“If you’re out here, you can see if anyone is headed my way. You can check the library first, if that will make you feel better.”

Demyst frowned, then nodded. “Put that way, it does make sense, ser.” He paused. “There aren’t any other entrances, are there?”

“No. There used to be a back entrance, but it was walled up years ago, it looks like.”

Once inside the library, Kharl began to look through the shelves. Very quickly, he noticed that there were no volumes of cases that appeared to have been bound recently. He searched until he found one that seemed to be the most recent and checked it. There were two dates, a Cyadoran date of 1898 A.F. and a second date. The second date was stated as the 27th year of Ostcrag, Lord West. For a moment, Kharl frowned, then nodded. Every ruler of the West Quadrant was Lord West. Ostcrag was Lord West’s personal name, as Osten was that of his eldest son. From what Kharl recalled, Lord West-or Ostcrag-had celebrated his thirtieth year as Lord West only a year before Kharl had left Brysta. That meant that the newest volume was almost four years old.

After almost half a glass of perusing volumes, Kharl could find no newer compilation of cases. By comparison, he was fairly certain that the newest case volumes in Hall of Justice in Valmurl were little more than a year old, if that.

He turned as he sensed Fasyn heading toward him.

“How are you finding things?” asked the chief clerk.

“I think it will take a little while before I know where everything is,” Kharl admitted. “I couldn’t find any recent cases.”

Fasyn did not quite meet Kharl’s gaze. “We’re somewhat behind in compiling those. There are only the two of us.”

“It takes a great deal of work,” suggested Kharl, “and a good hand.”

“I’ve heard that the role of the bailiff is different in Austra,” suggested Fasyn quickly.

“I haven’t seen a case tried here,” Kharl replied. “So I couldn’t say. There’s no difference in the guide you provided and in how it’s done in Valmurl. There’s generally only one guard at the outer doors, though. Also, the Lord of Austra does not preside in any cases.”

“What about the dating?”

Fasyn was clearly going to avoid commenting on Lord West’s role in justicing, Kharl reflected.

“From the cases I’ve read here … I’ve only read a few,” Kharl replied. “You’re using two dates. All the dating in Austra is from the founding of Valmurl, and that was some sixteen hundred years ago. Only the old cases have Cyadoran dates.”

“Hmmm … I didn’t know that.”

Kharl managed to conceal his surprise, because Fasyn was lying. “I’m sure I’ll find other differences, especially after I see how the lord justicers handle matters.”

“You plan on observing?”

“How else will I see the differences?”

“There is that,” murmured the overclerk.