L. Modesitt Jr: Antiagon Fire

“Might I know the regiment besides that of Subcommander Khaern?”

“The Nineteenth Regiment from Northern Army, now headed by Subcommander Alazyn.”

“Recently promoted from major?”

“Exactly.” Bhayar laughed. “Oh … and on the way to Ephra, you’ll also be accompanied by Commander Skarpa and the Southern Army. Marshal Deucalon suggested that to keep Aliaro from getting adventurous … and to make certain that the southwesternmost High Holders pledge allegiance. Skarpa will also have to deal with the elveweed problem.”

Quaeryt raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know Bovaria had an elveweed problem.” He also didn’t like the fact that Deucalon had suggested Skarpa’s new assignment. Then again, it might have been Myskyl.

“Everyone has an elveweed problem. As I recall, there were some factors in Extela…”

Quaeryt nodded. He didn’t like being reminded of some of the difficulties he’d encountered in his brief tenure as provincial governor of Montagne. “What is the particular problem in Ephra? Smuggling?”

“You might recall that Aliaro tried to blockade the port during Kharst’s campaign in Khel … and that Kharst burned part of Kephria. I’m certain Aliaro hasn’t forgotten that.”

“But Aliaro sent troopers against us on the campaign up the Aluse,” Quaeryt pointed out.

“That was then. Rulers have to be flexible.” Bhayar smiled sardonically. “Then there’s the problem that several High Holders have the equivalent of battalions of private guards funded by their … investments in elveweed and other even more undesirable substances.”

“With all that, I hope you gave Skarpa another four or five regiments and made him a submarshal,” said Quaeryt.

Bhayar laughed. “Once more, I see the wisdom of not keeping you too close at hand.”

The silence drew out, but Quaeryt refused to speak.

Finally, Bhayar said, “I already assigned two more regiments.”

“That won’t be enough, for many reasons. First, Subcommander Khaern and his regiment will be with me. Second, Aliaro will look at how many regiments Skarpa has. Third, you don’t need all of the Northern Army here in Variana. Fourth, you’ll have to strain to keep feeding the extra regiments…” Quaeryt paused, then asked, “Do you want to hear more?”

“No. From what you’re saying, I should give him four regiments more.”

“You should. Or five. And the promotion.”

“I will. I’ve learned that it’s not wise to disregard your suggestions, even if I don’t like them. But give me some reasons.”

Quaeryt refrained from smiling at Bhayar’s barely hidden exasperation. “First, the title will help convince Aliaro to behave, or at least to think before he tries some form of provocation. Second, it will give the local High Holders pause. Third, it will allow Skarpa the time, the men, and the position to plan for the eventual. Fourth, it will give both Deucalon and Myskyl pause. Fifth, you should also send Myskyl up the River Aluse from Variana to assure the full capitulation of the High Holders in the areas of Rivages, Asseroiles, Tacqueville, and perhaps all the way to the Montaignes D’Glace. By doing that-”

“I do understand that part,” said Bhayar testily.

“It also emphasizes that you’re relying on Skarpa as heavily as Myskyl-”

“And that will require Deucalon, whom you trust not at all, to be more careful in what he does.”

Quaeryt nodded.

“I’ll promote Skarpa, but don’t you say a word. Arranging the other regimental transfers will take a bit more time. Still … you and Vaelora should be able to leave on Lundi.” Bhayar put his hands on the wooden arms of the desk chair, as if about to rise.

“You also need to let Skarpa pick his successor as commander of Third Regiment.”

“Of course. What else?” Bhayar’s voice turned quietly sardonic.

“You’re getting what you want,” Quaeryt said quietly. “I’d like something.”

“Oh? You’re now a commander.”

Quaeryt ignored the reference to the promotion. He’d more than earned it. “You remember that you agreed to my building the imagers into a group that will support you and your heirs, and even Clayar’s heirs?”

“How could I forget?”

“They need to be gathered in a place that is both separate and isolated, yet close enough to remind everyone, quietly, that they are at your beck and call. The battle resulted in much devastation, especially along the river. The so-called isle of piers would be an excellent location for such a place. Also, by turning it into a beautiful isle scholarium for imagers, it would help reinforce both your power and your grace in rebuilding a more beautiful Variana … Although, in a year or so, when you officially relocate your capital here, I would recommend changing the city’s name-”

“Do your presumptions never end?” Bhayar’s tone was half amused, half exasperated, and followed by a sigh.

“Have I advised or done anything that was not proved to be in your interests, sir?” Quaeryt decided against reminding Bhayar that they had already discussed what he’d just said.

Bhayar shook his head, not even trying to conceal his exasperation. “I will be glad when you are off furthering my interests out of earshot.”

“That is another reason why you might consider allowing the isle of piers to the imagers…”

“Enough!” Bhayar shook his head vigorously, but the sigh that followed was the long and dramatic one, not the short explosive one that indicated real anger. “I will hold the isle for a future reserve, for now, until you return from the so-called High Council of Khel with an agreement accepting my sovereignty.”

“You won’t get that unless you allow the head of their High Council to act as the provincial governor of Khel.”

“I can’t do that!”

“How about as princeps? That would allow your rule to be paramount, but allow the Pharsi some latitude in maintaining their way of life.”

Bhayar’s frown was thoughtful.

Quaeryt once more waited.

“Are you sure you didn’t know you were Pharsi until last year?”

“Absolutely.” Quaeryt paused. “You could use that arrangement as leverage to keep the provincial governors of Telaryn in line…”

“They’ll have to grant more than that. At least twenty High Holdings along the coast, and two or three near Khelgror.”

“I might persuade them to the coast holdings. I doubt that they’d agree to a high holding near Khelgror unless you made at least one of them a Pharsi holder.”

“Do what you can, but I can’t let it be seen that the Pharsi are dictating terms.”

“In other words, you need to claim you’ve obtained the spoils of high holdings…”

“You don’t have to put it that way, Quaeryt.”

“I just wish matters to be clear between us. I’ve never spoken for you except exactly what you have stated.”

“Or what you’ve gotten me to agree to state.”

Quaeryt grinned. “You’ve never agreed to anything you wouldn’t have granted, and you know it.”

Although Bhayar grinned, if briefly, in return, Quaeryt knew he’d be in the study for at least another glass, going over details … and then the minutiae of those details.

As Quaeryt had suspected, his meeting with Bhayar was not short, and he did not return to the quarters he and Vaelora shared until almost three quints past ninth glass. She was waiting for him in the small sitting room adjoining their bedchamber and immediately rose from where she had been seated, setting a small leatherbound volume on the table beside her chair.

“Reading Rholan and the Nameless again?” he asked.

She offered a mock scowl. “Are you going to tell me how things went with Bhayar? Besides getting promoted?” An impish smile appeared as her eyes took in the gold crescent moon insignia on Quaeryt’s collar.