L. Modesitt - Scholar

“I will attempt to refrain from displaying such,” replied Quaeryt. “Are the remaining partisans the ones behind the occasional attacks on the governor’s soldiers?”

“By definition, anyone who attacks an occupier of a land is a partisan. I personally suspect that many of those so-called partisans are rather well-dressed, well-armed, and well-fed. They might even be well-mounted. That is only a suspicion, you understand.”

“Were I as eccentric and as suspicious as you seem to think,” said Quaeryt with a smile, “I would say that a High Holder who professed peaceful intentions while inciting others to violence indirectly might effectively strengthen his position, and that of all High Holders, with the governor.”

“You’d not be the first to say so, but if you made that known, and could prove it to the governor, you might well be the first one to remain alive for saying such.”

“Even among scholars?”

Sarastyn laughed, softly. “Scholars must live in the world around them, no matter what one studies, and they must accept charity and funds-or take them-where they can. Can it be that one so traveled as yourself has found it otherwise?”

“I wish that I could deny your observation, but … alas … I cannot.”

“Since you cannot, have you other questions … of a less present historical nature?”

“When was the Timber Road constructed, and did any High Holders oppose it?”

Sarastyn cocked his head. “Fascinating question … fascinating.”

The fact that there was no obvious sarcasm in the older scholar’s reply bothered Quaeryt far more than sarcasm would have, but he just waited to see what Sarastyn would say.

“When the timbering clans of the Boran Hills began digging the road out of the very rocks of the hillsides, no one noticed. And few others noticed when they bought steads that yielded little-until the road across them appeared. By the time their efforts were too obvious to be concealed, there was little that High Holder Arimyn and High Holder Baelzyt could do, because the timbering clans had also constructed a shorter road from their timber road to the Reserve of the Khanar, a fact which did not escape the eyes of Ciendar-the son of Nidar the Great. Nor was Ciendar exactly displeased when the clans granted him freedom of passage, even for any timber he might wish to sell in Midcote. That strengthened the treasury.…” Sarastyn shrugged. “Arimyn and Baelzyt still pay annual tariffs to use the road.”

“With all the timber of Tilbor, and all those who fish, why has no Khanar ever developed a fleet?”

“What would have been the point? Outside of timber and fish, neither of which travels well for any great distance, what else do we send on the waves? What would a fleet protect? How would the Khanar have paid for it? Besides, ships require men who can work together day after day and who can take orders.” Another laugh followed. “Too few men in Tilbor can do either.”

For the next glass Quaeryt asked more questions, not quite at random, but in a variety of areas, because the responses to his more direct questions had been less useful than he would have thought.

Then, after another response, Sasastyn cleared his throat meaningfully. “Again, you have exhausted my voice and my memory, young Quaeryt, and it is time for me to depart and to refresh it.” The older man slowly stood.

So did Quaeryt.

The rest of the day was even less productive.

He walked over to the anomen, looking for the ancient chorister, who might have some useful recollections, but the building was empty. He spent almost a glass studying it and found little remarkable there, except for noting that the recent repairs, while not exactly shoddy, looked to be of less than the highest quality of workmanship, almost as if they had been accomplished by students.

They probably were.

Later, he stopped by the tailor shop in the Ecoliae and picked up the garments he had ordered from Naxim. They were of surprisingly good quality, if of wool, which would limit when he could wear them when he returned to Solis, and far better, he had to admit, than those that he had lost in Nacliano.

He wasn’t looking forward to another meal in the dining hall, but he also didn’t want to walk or ride the still-muddy roads, whether Sarastyn did or not.

As Sarastyn had predicted, Jeudi morning dawned bright, clear, and dry, and Quaeryt rode out immediately after breakfast, this time to follow those roads that were brick-paved to the east and north of the Ecoliae. Even with Sarastyn’s observations about the soils of Tilbor, he wasn’t about to risk the mare on muddy clay or dirt tracks. Others didn’t seem so reticent, and by eighth glass, Quaeryt found that there were farm wagons on the road, as well as others, although he did note that many of the wagons had wider wheel rims than those in the south.

In following another brick road that branched off the main road a half mille or so past what he thought of as the circular crossroads, he came to an area of leveled rubble-a space that appeared to encompass four square blocks. Moreover, some of the houses adjoining that area appeared to be deserted, with holes in the walls where windows and doors once had been.

Why had no one rebuilt? Was it considered ill fortune? Had Rescalyn or his predecessor forbidden it? Was it even the area that Lankyt had referred to?

Those were questions he’d have to raise carefully, indirectly, or possibly not at all, if he could get someone to volunteer the information, but he had the feeling that how the Pharsi were treated was something Bhayar would have to consider carefully-given the lord’s ambitions. Less than a mille to the northeast from the razed area, after riding past modest but generally well-kept dwellings, he came to a set of brick pillars, one on each side of the road. Beyond the pillars, the narrow road widened into more of an avenue, with larger dwellings, all of them two stories, on each side. All were constructed of a dark reddish brick, but the roofs were not of thatch or tile but of split wooden shingles.

Why wooden shingles when the brick and crafting is so good? He only had to ponder that for a moment before the answer came. Snow. Tiles were heavy, and so was slate, and if heavy snow and ice piled on the roofs in the winter, the weight on the roof could be heavy indeed. All the trim was painted, if in dull colors, and all exterior wood was either oiled or painted. Every dwelling had a stable attached by a walled and roofed walkway.

Very cold winters …

When Quaeryt returned to the Ecoliae slightly before fourth glass, he felt that he had a basic understanding of what types of people generally lived where in Tilbora, although not necessarily all the reasons why. But he could have spent weeks searching out those factors, and he didn’t have weeks.

He managed to get the mare groomed and fed in less than two quints. Then he washed up-his face and hands-at the pump outside the stables and walked to the main building, looking for Chardyn. Despite the fact that he’d asked Yullyd about tavernas, he wanted to see what sort of a reply he would receive from Chardyn.

He didn’t get a chance to seek out the Sansang master immediately, because Nalakyn immediately appeared.

“Scholar Quaeryt, I didn’t see you around today. I feared you had already left us, and I had some questions I hoped you would address.”

“I have a few moments now.” Quaeryt gestured toward three vacant chairs, set several yards from a larger grouping of seven scholars, in which the only one he recalled by name and face was Yullyd, although he’d certainly seen the others several times.

“I would appreciate that.”

Nalakyn did not move, and, after a moment, Quaeryt headed toward the chairs, where he settled into one and waited for Nalakyn to seat himself before saying, “While I am only a young scholar, as scholars go, and certainly without your length of study, I would be happy to address, as I can, your questions.”