Rex Regis by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

although her smile was tentative.
    “We’re pleased to meet you,” said Vaelora warmly.
    “If you would join us in the salon,” suggested Nephyl. “It does have a lovely view of the river.”
    Quaeryt stayed close to Vaelora, his shields covering them both, as they followed the couple, both far closer to Vaelora’s age than Quaeryt’s, down the larger corridor that led straight back from the entry hall. Mergiana leaned toward her husband and murmured a few words. While Quaeryt could not hear them, he could sense the urgency behind them, and he strengthened his shields.
    Some twenty yards down the corridor was an archway into a large chamber that stretched some fifteen yards toward the river. Wide windows overlooked a roofed terrace beyond, the roof clearly being necessary so that those on the terrace could enjoy the breezes and the river view in late afternoon.
    Nephyl gestured toward a settee and the chairs flanking it, all facing the river.
    Quaeryt guided Vaelora to the far end of the settee, then stood beside the chair, waiting for the holder and his wife to take their places, seating himself as they did, with Mergiana taking the place beside Vaelora.
    “My wife informs me that you, Commander, are somewhat more than a commander, and that the lady is also more than that.”
    Quaeryt smiled. “I am a commander in the Telaryn forces, and I do have the honor to be married to Lady Vaelora, who is indeed the sister of Lord Bhayar, and who is returning from a mission as envoy to the High Council of Khel.”
    Nephyl frowned, as if uncertain as to what else he might say without being impolite.
    “I believe my husband was referring to the fact that you both appear to have a Naedaran background, and such is rare these days.”
    “It is no secret that Lord Bhayar’s family is half Pharsi,” said Quaeryt, “and I was an orphan who did not discover I was of Pharsi blood until I was full grown.”
    “My maid Semila is of that background,” pursued Mergiana. “She says that you bear all the … attributes of those who are sometimes called sons of Erion.”
    Quaeryt shrugged, as if helpless to refute the statement.
    “My husband can be modest about such,” said Vaelora. “He has always believed that actions define someone better than words. He is the most effective commander in all my brother’s armies. He just returned from the conquest of Antiago.”
    “Antiago…? It is also in Lord Bhayar’s hands?” asked Nephyl. “What of the Autarch … and his Antiagon Fire … and imagers?”
    “The Autarch and most of his troopers are dead, as are most of the imagers,” replied Quaeryt. “We also destroyed perhaps seven or eight warships as well. Submarshal Skarpa is acting governor of Antiago.”
    “The world has changed … greatly … in the last year,” said Nephyl slowly.
    “It will continue to change in the year to come,” observed Quaeryt. “You may have received a summons to pay a token tariff for the past year. If you have not, you will.”
    “Token? How great a token … if I might ask?”
    “A hundred golds, I believe.”
    “Some might not consider that a token.”
    “Perhaps not, but he is also requiring token tariffs from the factors, and there is much that needs to be done in Bovaria, such matters as rebuilding neglected roads and applying the same laws to all. Lord Bhayar would prefer not to remove High Holders, but he will do so if they do not pledge allegiance to him and pay their tariffs.”
    “I had not heard…”
    “There were four High Holders near Kephria,” said Vaelora. “They did not believe the commander. Their holds no longer exist. There is not a stone remaining. There are other High Holders who did. Outside of the token payment, and occasionally the purchase of supplies at a cheaper rate, they remain untouched.”
    “Lord Bhayar is a man of his word,” declared Quaeryt.
    “And so are you, it is said,” suggested Mergiana. “Can you assure us-” She stopped at a sharp