L. Modesitt - Ordermaster

“Some of these volumes date back several centuries.”

“So do some in our residence,” Kharl said. “I doubt anyone has read most of them in all that time.”

The Sarronnese laughed. “There are several thousand here. I’ve read perhaps two or three hundred, mostly the histories, and some of the essays. Jemelya has read another hundred or so.”

Kharl recalled the assistant’s name, but did not comment.

Luryessa gestured toward a door set in the middle of the south wall, between the wall cases. “Would you like to see my private study, Lord Kharl?”

Kharl understood. The message was not an invitation to dalliance. “I would be honored, Envoy Luryessa.”

After they entered, Luryessa closed the heavy door behind her and turned. “Lord Kharl … or should I call you mage?”

“Envoy Luryessa … one could also call you sorceress.”

The muscular silver-haired woman nodded. “One could. It would not be accurate in many fashions. Shall we fence, or be direct? We are private here, and all of my retainers in the residence at the moment are trustworthy.”

Kharl shrugged helplessly. “I cannot fence. My weapons are staff and cudgel, and both are most direct.”

“Are you at liberty to tell me why Lord Ghrant sent a powerful mage as his envoy? Has he so many that he can spare one of your strength more than a thousand kays from Valmurl?”

“I cannot look into Lord Ghrant’s mind, Envoy Luryessa-”

“Just Luryessa in private, please.”

“I know that he is greatly concerned about the intentions of the Emperor of Hamor. All I have seen in the harbor are Hamorian vessels, and there are no other merchanters. That concerns me.”

“It would concern all with any intelligence. Your secretary was most polite with Jemelya, but you would not have sent him so soon after your arrival had you not been concerned about matters here in Brysta.”

“You are most observant.”

She smiled. “Has Lord Ghrant so many mages?”

Kharl smiled, politely. “Does the Tyrant?”

“No. Sorcery and magery are frowned upon in Sarron. I am seldom welcomed home, but find myself honored in my positions as envoy to other lands … so long as I do not return home too often or for too long.”

Kharl could sense the absolute truth of Luryessa’s words … and the hidden sadness behind them.

“And what of you?” she asked.

He paused, then said carefully, “Lord Ghrant is wary of mages, but one other of longer service to the Lords of Austra remains in Valmurl.” That was certainly true.

“You are most cautious, yet truthful in what you have said.” A smile containing a hint of impishness, incongruous in the stately envoy, crossed her lips. “You have not said much, though.”

“I have never been an envoy before. I must feel my way with care. Great care.”

“Envoys must always be careful. They send us where there are neither fleets nor lancers to support us.”

“And some lands have few of either.”

Luryessa nodded, then said, “Magery is an acceptable substitute. Great magery was used to defeat the Hamorians in Austra, although Lord Whetorak has claimed that there were no Hamorians in Austra, except for a handful of mercenaries.”

“That may be, but those mercenaries wore Hamorian uniforms,” Kharl said.

“Did the emperor also send chaos-wizards?”

“I cannot say who sent all of them. Not for certain. Some did arrive on Hamorian ships, and they were chaos-wizards who supported the rebel lords.”

“Our envoy reported that Lord Ghrant had a powerful order-master.No one knows much about what he did or how, except that there are claims that he turned a mountain into solid glass, and when all was over, there were no rebels left living, and no chaos-wizards.”

Kharl shrugged. “I can say that he did not turn a mountain into glass.”

“I thought not. That is something of chaos. Still … a powerful ordermaster might be able to deflect such forces, and that deflection might turn part of a mountain into glass.”

“I suppose that could happen,” Kharl admitted. While he suspected that Luryessa was probably more trustworthy than either the Hamorians or Lord West and his retainers, he was uncomfortable dealing with such an astute woman. “I think it is best that I not speak of how Lord Ghrant was able to overcome the rebels and the Hamorians.”

“Then we will not. I would not wish to place you in an uncomfortable position.” Another smile appeared. “Overcaptain Osten and the Hamorians may wish that. Sarronnyn does not.”

“My secretary met with a secretary for Lord West, and he gained the impression that young Osten is greatly involved in governing the West Quadrant.”

“In practice, Overcaptain Osten, who is the eldest of Ostcrag’s sons, rules Brysta. The youngest, Captain Egen, rules the southern lands of the West Quadrant. Vielam rules the others outside of the south and Brysta, but he defers to his brothers.”

“I thought that Egen was the youngest.”

“He is, but Vielam defers to him, nonetheless. That has become more true and more frequent since Klarsat departed.”

The name meant nothing to Kharl. “Was he a councilor or advisor to Vielam?”

“Of sorts. He was an order-mage. Of moderate abilities. He departed in the spring, on a merchanter from Recluce.″

“He supported Vielam, then.”

“Let us surmise that he disliked Vielam less than his brothers. He left after the first of the Hamorian white wizards arrived.”

The more Kharl heard, the less he liked what he felt was happening in Brysta. “I have heard reports of brigandage. One of our merchanters told the lord-chancellor that his men were prevented from traveling south for goods for that reason.”

Luryessa laughed. “All the would-be brigands are working in the quarriesthat Egen has reopened. Do not have any of your retainers walk the streets alone, particularly at night.”

“Every man not a lord and not likely to be missed is a brigand?”

“Or a beggar or a thief.”

Kharl could easily believe that of Egen. “Why does he need that many?”

“They’re building a road to the south, following the old road to Surien.”

“For trade?”

“That is the claim, but work on the road did not begin until Lord South refused to consort his daughter Estelya to young Egen.”

“And the Hamorians?”

“They are providing tools and knowledge. So they say.”

Kharl snorted.

“You doubt the honorable intentions of Hamor?”

“From what I have seen, Hamor has no intentions that are honorable. Although I have been told that the Emperors of Hamor are patient, I have doubts about this emperor.”

“His mightiness Sestar reached his majority less than two years ago. He is little older than your Lord Ghrant. As you surmise, he is not considered patient.” The Sarronnese laughed, sardonically, yet good-naturedly. “You have been to Cigoerne, then?”

“Only to Swartheld. Have you seen Cigoerne?″

“I have. It is most beautiful, most cultured, and terrifying in what it represents.″

“Oh?” Kharl did not know exactly how to respond to that statement.

“The city is pleasant and beautiful, as is all around it. But, two hundred kays to the north is Luba, where the sky is black with soot and dust and ashes, and where thousands of furnaces and steam engines roar day and night. To the west stretches the Great Highway, a white stone road that will reach all across Hamor to Atla in the east. It, too, is proud and beautiful, and few see the quarries where thousands labor endlessly.” Luryessa gave the smallest of shrugs.

“Beauty built on misery and slavery?”

“The Hamorian philosopher Aurelat wrote that most men live lives of misery, and that is indeed the human condition. Since misery has always existed, continues to exist, and always will, he posited that a ruler’s taskwas to harness that misery in the most productive of ways, creating structures of beauty and providing adequate food and lodging for all so that their misery could be most effectively used to improve the land and the world.”