“You put that so delicately.”
“I could be mistaken,” Lerial admits. “I only know what I saw at Luba.”
“Many would wish you were, but wishes don’t fill the pot.”
“No … they don’t.” Again, Lerial is getting the feeling that Ascaar comes from a less exalted background than any of the other commanders and subcommanders—at least those Lerial has met so far. That doesn’t mean he’s either more or less trustworthy. All the same, it does suggest he may be more able, because to rise to a battalion commander with a background unlike that of most other officers suggests that greater ability in at least some areas is likely.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Ascaar says, “I need to report to the arms-commander. He has some additional duties for me.”
“I trust they won’t be too onerous.”
Ascaar only raises his eyebrows.
After the subcommander leaves, Lerial goes to find his officers, now that he has given them some time to finish the details of settling their companies. He finds Strauxyn near the stables.
“Ser … we’ve got some mounts that need reshoeing.”
“Do they have a farrier?”
“Yes, ser, but he’s not from the Afritan Guard. They have to pay him as well.”
“How much?” asks Lerial, knowing that he will have to pay whatever the cost.
“A silver a mount, plus the cost of the shoes.”
Lerial winces.
“Yes, ser.”
“Arrange for it, but it will have to be done early tomorrow.”
Strauxyn nods.
Lerial sends for Fheldar and Kusyl, and in less than a fraction of a glass, both join him and Strauxyn.
“I need you and some men you can trust to see what you can find out about Subcommander Ascaar and anything else about Shaelt and the post. Quietly, of course. We’ll be here another day, probably not longer.”
After going over other company needs, Lerial dismisses the three and heads back to his spacious rooms to clean up for dinner. He is both looking forward to it and worried about what he may learn … or that he may learn nothing.
At half past sixth glass Ascaar and Lerial join Rhamuel in the small private dining room of the guest quarters. Lerial would like to make an indirect inquiry about Ascaar’s additional duties, but that is not possible, because Rhamuel appears just before Ascaar does and ushers them into the dining room.
As soon as the three are seated at one end of a table that could easily hold ten, Rhamuel says, “I can’t provide something as elaborate as Ascatyl, but both the red wine and the lager are good. The white…” The arms-commander shakes his head.
After Rhamuel pours himself a goblet of red wine, Lerial and Ascaar fill their beakers with lager.
“To uneventful travels,” offers Rhamuel, lifting his goblet.
“To uneventful travels.”
After the toast, Rhamuel smiles. “I’ve had my cook prepare a recipe from Cyador. Beef Fyrad.”
“I must admit that I’ve never had it,” Lerial says.
“Excellent,” replies Rhamuel. “Then you can’t tell whether it’s authentic, only whether it’s tasty.”
“I’m certain it will be excellent,” replies Lerial.
A hint of a smile crosses Ascaar’s face, but he does not speak.
“By the way,” Lerial says, “some of my mounts need reshoeing, but I was led to understand that the farrier here in the post…”
Ascaar snorts. “Cantayl is a barefoot relative of Kenkram, and that’s the way it’s been for years.”
Lerial lifts his eyebrows in puzzlement, hoping that will spur some further explanation. He also thinks he’s heard the name Kenkram before, but he doesn’t recall where.
“Kenkram is a merchanter and an advocate who also trades in water shares,” explains Rhamuel. “He’s very wealthy as a result.”
Water shares? They trade in access to the river? “Water shares?”
“Those who built the main canals offer shares of their profits. By selling shares, they can extend and repair the canals. Also, at times, those who own shares … they fall on hard times and need more golds than the shares bring in.”
Is everything in Afrit for sale in one way or another? Lerial does not voice the thought, but just nods. “I see.”
“Everything is about golds,” Ascaar says blandly, although the slight wave of chaos around the subcommander suggests to Lerial that Ascaar feels anything but bland.
“Better about golds than the edge of a blade,” replies Rhamuel. “That is often the alternative. At least, it appears to be in Heldya.” He looks up as two rankers appear, each with a platter.