When Lerial meets with his officers and senior squad leaders on twoday morning, after going over muster reports, Strauxyn asks, “Begging your pardon, ser, but do you know when we’ll be leaving?”
“That’s one of the things I hope to settle with the duke this morning. Now that he’s dealt with his brother’s memorial, we should be able to settle things.”
“You don’t like Swartheld so well?” asks Kusyl jestingly.
“It’s all right. It’s just…” Strauxyn breaks off his words.
“Who is she?” Kusyl grins.
Strauxyn flushes.
Lerial smiles. “It’s amazing what women can do.”
“Or what men will do for the ones they love,” adds Kusyl.
That comment shocks Lerial, because it’s not what he’d have expected from the sardonic older undercaptain. But there’s likely so much you don’t know, just like Aenslem and Atroyan, and perhaps even Rhamuel, who know so little of those below them. He pushes aside that sobering thought, as well as the near-continual thoughts about Kyedra, wondering if there is any way he can get his father to agree to letting him ask for Kyedra’s hand. That’s assuming Aenslem and Rhamuel—and Haesychya—would agree. And that is anything but certain.
“Ser … there is one thing,” ventures Dhoraat.
“Yes?”
“There are some rankers whose terms expire on eightday…”
Lerial should have remembered that. All rankers’ terms expire on one of ten days in the year—the last day of a season or the eightday of the fifth week of the season. “They can still travel back to Cigoerne with their company. It’s not as though we’re likely to be fighting, and they can draw pay for the travel time without agreeing to extend their term.”
“They know that, ser. There are a couple who want to stay here. They’ve found positions.”
“And lady-friends, I’d wager,” adds Kusyl.
“That can happen to any man, anywhere,” Lerial replies. “I don’t see a problem there. If there aren’t too many, I can find a way to cover their back pay.”
“Just three that want to stay, ser.”
“We can manage that. Anything else?”
“No, ser.”
“Then I need to get to the palace to meet with the duke.”
Lerial takes only a half squad of rankers as an escort, and he doubts he needs more than two men, but there still is the question of appearances. When he reaches the anteroom outside the duke’s study, only Norstaan is there.
“Go right in, ser,” says Norstaan. “He’s alone. The commander is at South Post this morning.”
“Thank you.” Not without some trepidation, Lerial steps into the receiving study.
Rhamuel motions for him to take a chair, and Lerial does so, waiting.
“To begin with, I thought you’d like to know that five days ago, Maesoryk died peacefully in his sleep. The local healer could find no trace of chaos or poison.”
Lerial manages to avoid taking a deep breath. “I’m not surprised.”
“I didn’t think you would be. In fact, I think you’d only have been surprised if you had not heard of his death.” After a moment, Rhamuel continues, his voice firm and decisive, “I have some other things I’d like to discuss with you, but let’s go over what you had in mind first. Save the questions about your departure for last.”
Lerial again feels like taking a deep breath. He doesn’t. “You need to make some changes in what the merchanters can and cannot do.”
“Such as?”
“Powerful order-mages or chaos-mages should serve the duke and/or the Afritan Guard, not the merchanters. Less powerful mages or wizards should only serve merchanters with the knowledge and consent of the duke.”
“Why do you think that?” Rhamuel’s tone is even, not quite skeptical.
“Most of the treachery your brother faced was made possible by the fact that Duke Khesyn had control of chaos-mages and traitorous Afritan merchanters did also—”
“And the only thing that saved me and Afrit was one powerful magus loaned to me by the grace of the Duke of Cigoerne.”
“I’m not a full magus, and never will be.”
“Call you a war magus, then, but you were the difference. I’ll admit it. I also agree with your recommendation. There is, however, just one small problem with it. How exactly am I going to enforce it?” Rhamuel smiles.
“You make failure to comply treason against Afrit and execute anyone who fails to comply. It won’t work otherwise.”
“I’d agree with that as well, but the same problem remains. If someone has a powerful mage, how can a duke without mages make them comply?”
Lerial can see the difficulty … and he realizes, as he has considered before, just how much tradition and structure had kept the Cyadoran Magi’i and merchanters in their places … and that Rhamuel has neither. Nor does he have any mages.
“You see…” says the duke, “I’ve thought about this. So did my brother. But we’ve never had enough golds to buy mages, and without them, we don’t have enough power to raise tariffs to gain the golds to buy their services, let alone their loyalty.”