“How do you do,” she replied, “My name is Charlaine, Charlaine deShandria. I’m a smith from Malburg. We have here today to look into some issues with taxes.”
“I paid my taxes!” spat out Deiter.
“I think you misunderstand,” said Ludwig, “we are here because it’s quite possible you’ve paid too much.”
“What?” the man said, the shock quite evident.
“Can you tell us how much you paid in years past?” asked Charlaine.
“About six crowns,” the farmer replied, “give or take a shilling or two.”
Ludwig turned to Charlaine. “The fee is based on the size of the farm.” He dug into his satchel, pulling forth a rough leather book. Scanning through the pages, he halted, searching down the list until he found what he was looking for. “Here it is, the Macken farm. You have three cows, is that correct?”
“Aye,” Deiter replied, “and five pigs, along with the field you see here.” He swept his hand, indicating the small plot.
“By my reckoning,” said Ludwig, “your taxes should have come to no more than five crowns. When did the soldiers come through?”
“About two weeks ago.”
“Do you remember their names?”
“I wasn’t asking,” said Deiter, “and in any event, I wouldn’t presume to talk to a noble.”
“A noble? I thought you said they were soldiers.”
“They were,” the old man replied, “two of them at least, but the third man, he was a noble.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye, he was dressed like you, Lord, I know a noble when I see one.”
“How old was this man?”
“I’d say of an age similar to yourself, Lord.”
“Did you catch his name?”
“’Fraid not, we didn’t speak, but he watched as the soldiers collected the coin.”
Ludwig looked to Charlaine. “It sounds like Berthold.”
“Your stepbrother? Are you sure?”
“I can think of no other person in the area that would match that description.”
“Aren't there are other nobles around?” she asked.
“Not in this barony, I’m afraid it’s only us.”
“Perhaps from a neighbouring barony then?”
“Leading my father's troops? That hardly seems likely.”
“I don’t want to make no fuss,” said the farmer.
“You haven’t,” said Ludwig, “It’s my duty to make sure you are taxed fairly. Rest assured I shall get to the bottom of this. Have the other villagers had the same problem?”
The farmer nodded, not willing to speak.
“What do we do now?” asked Charlaine.
“I’ll talk to anyone else here I can find, but we’ll likely get the same story. It seems my stepbrother is using his position to skim some off the top.”
“You should take it to your father,” she said.
“And I will, but I must make sure of my facts first.”
* * *
It was late afternoon by the time they started heading back.
“I thought you said we’d have the wind at our backs,” said Charlaine.
“We do,” he said, “but I didn’t expect it to be so strong.”
“Or so cold,” she added, “we’ll see snow soon.”
“True enough, looks like we’ll have an early winter this year.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” she said,
“Of course not, you spend your days before a nice warm forge.”
“What are you complaining about? You get to spend your time in a nice warm keep.”
“The keep is anything but warm,” he complained. “The truth is it’s quite chilly. I spend most of my winter days wrapped up in cloaks and shivering in front of a fire. You?”
“I’m usually stripped down to a shirt and apron. Believe it or not, it actually gets too hot some days.”
“Can you ever, really be too hot?” he asked.
“Yes. You have to understand, I wear a leather apron, gloves, even sleeves to protect myself from the heat, the last thing I want to do is get burned.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“It’s much worse in the summer,” she added, “some days, it’s impossible to cool down.”
“I wonder how your ancestors managed, back in Calabria. It’s always warm down there, isn’t it?”
“That’s what they say, but it's by the sea, I imagine that helps. I’d love to visit there someday, but it won’t be anytime soon.”
“Not with Halvaria ruling over it,” said Ludwig. “But one day, their empire will fall.”
“I doubt that will happen in our lifetime,” she said. “But it’s nice to think so.”
“They’ll be defeated eventually, it’s inevitable.”
“Is it? What makes you think they won’t just take over the entire Continent?”
“Every empire eventually dies,” said Ludwig. “It’s how history works.”
“History has little meaning to the conquered,” she said. She shifted in the saddle. “Have you decided what to do about Berthold?”
“Yes,” he said, “I shall bring it to the attention of my father, I’m sure he’ll see reason.”
“You think he’ll do anything about it? It is his son, after all.”
“His stepson,” corrected Ludwig, “and yes, I think he’ll be infuriated, don’t you?”
“I have my doubts.”
“How can you say that?” he asked.
“Your father likely wants to remain in the good graces of your stepmother. Do you honestly think he’ll be able to do that if he condemns Berthold?”
“An interesting observation,” said Ludwig, “but I think I know my father better than you.”
“I would hope so, but I can’t help but feel that this isn’t going to go the way you want it to.”
“Nonsense, my father is a reasonable man.”
“Is he? He certainly didn’t seem so when he kicked me out of the keep.”
“He was only upset,” said Ludwig. “He doesn’t like surprises.”
“Life is full of surprises. How does he deal with them all?”
He laughed. “Usually with a little rage.”
“He doesn’t sound like the kind of man I’d like to spend time with.”
“You get used to it.”
“Has he always been like that?”
“No,” said Ludwig, “he used to be much calmer, but the death of my mother hit him hard. Ever since he’s been…”
“Angry?”
“Yes. Not that I can blame him. He loved her very deeply and her death shook him to his core.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“No, I suppose it’s not,” he agreed, “but I didn’t help matters.”
“How so?”
“My mother and I were extremly close. As a young man of only fifteen, her death devastated me, but I was unable to talk about it. Instead, I bottled up my rage and began acting out. I suppose to a certain extent I blamed my father for her death. I know that sounds terrible, but he and I had never been close.”
“You obviously loved your mother a great deal,” she said.
“I did,” he said, “I miss her greatly, even now.”
“I wish I could say the same,” she said.
“I thought you loved your parents.”
“I do, but lately I’ve found it hard to be around my mother. She seems so overbearing of late.”
“She’s only trying to look out for you,” said Ludwig. “At least you know she has your best interests at heart.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
The wind picked up, causing them both to shiver.
“Come on,” said Ludwig, “let’s race, at least it will keep us warm.”
* * *
By the time they reached the keep, they were both sweating profusely. It only made the situation worse as they now had to deal with the cold wind against sweat soaked clothing, making i
t seem even more frigid.
Ludwig led her up into the keep while servants took their horses. It didn’t take long to find a fireplace and then they stripped off their outer garments, accepting blankets to ward off the chill.
Charlaine was shivering as Ludwig placed another blanket round her shoulders.
“You weren’t kidding when you said the keep was cold,” she said.
A servant entered, bearing a tray with two cups.
“A nice hot mulled cider for you, Lord.”
“Thank you, Carson,” said Ludwig. “Is my father here?”
“Alas, no,” the man replied. “He rode out for Karlsrun this morning and we’re not expecting him back for some time.”
“What about Kasper Piltz?”
“He is here, lord. Shall I summon him?”
“If you would,” said Ludwig, “I have a matter of some import that I must discuss with him.”
“I shall fetch him directly, my lord.”
Carson bowed deeply, then exited the room.
“Can you trust him?” asked Charlaine.
“Who, Kasper? He’s been my father’s closest advisor for years. If I can’t trust him, I can’t trust anybody. I only hope there’s something he can do about all this.”
They were just beginning to warm up as the baron’s man arrived.
“You wanted to see me, Lord Ludwig?”
“I did, Kasper. It seems my stepbrother has been skimming coin from the taxes.”
“Are you sure, Lord?”
“There can be little doubt,” said Ludwig. “We visited Eramon today and the villagers have been paying too much.” He pulled forth the leather book. “This book records what we received, but the truth is that much more was collected.”
Piltz took the proffered tome, skimming its contents. “Hardly a problem that need involve the baron,” he said.
Ludwig stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious?”
“My lord, what does it matter that Berthold collect a little more than what is due? In the long view of such things this is a petty matter.”
“He is stealing from the people of Verfeld,” said Ludwig.
“That is one interpretation of events,” said Piltz.
“One interpretation? How else can you see this?”
“It is the right of nobles to tax the peasants,” the aide continued, “and Berthold is part of your family now, like it or not.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending him.”
“I am not defending him, Lord, merely pointing out the relative insignificance of his actions. I’m sure your father would see it the same way.”
“We shall see,” said Ludwig, his face reddening. “I shall bring it to his attention as soon as he returns.”
“As is your right,” said Piltz, “but I fear your father will not take it well.”
“Are you suggesting my father will allow this corrupt practice to continue?”
“I am suggesting that your father will value peace within his household more than conflict. Likely, he will speak to Berthold, but I doubt things will change.”
“Surely, you jest?”
“I’m afraid not, my lord. Were it anyone else, I’m sure he would be the first to condemn it, but I fear that Lady Astrid’s influence over him will have a… moderating effect.”
“Nevertheless,” said Ludwig, “I must insist on bringing it to his attention.”
“He should be back by nightfall,” said Kasper, “I shall send someone to fetch you once he has safely returned. In the meantime, I would suggest you arrange for your guest to return home. Your father would not look kindly upon her presence should he find her here.”
“She is here at my invitation,” argued Ludwig.
Kasper Piltz bowed respectfully. “In that case, I shall leave you to your privacy, my lord.” He left quickly, closing the door behind him.
“Are you sure that was wise?” asked Charlaine.
“What, arguing with Kasper?”
“No, bringing this whole affair to your father. You’re putting him in a difficult position.”
“Why? Because his stepson is a thief?”
“Like it or not, Berthold is your family now,” she said, “and deserves your support.”
“My father always impressed upon me the importance of being fair, I can’t stand back and see our tenants abused like this. How would you feel if you were paying too much in taxes?”
“I see your point,” she replied, “but there must be another way? What if you talked to Berthold yourself?”
“And do what, appeal to his better nature? I doubt that would work.”
“Then maybe a different tactic is in order.”
“Such as?” he asked.
“You could threaten to expose him, perhaps then he’d see the error of his ways.”
“I doubt that would work. He can be exceedingly stubborn, and his mother has a tight grip on my father.”
“You mean your stepmother.”
“I’m loath to call her that,” said Ludwig.
“Nevertheless, that is what she is, and you must learn to live with her.”
Ludwig stared at her a moment. “I can’t help but feel she’s manipulating him.”
“You’re only upset because she’s replacing your mother.”
“Am I?” he asked. “Maybe you’re right. I might be seeing more to this than what’s really there. I’ve never given her a chance, you know.”
“Why do you think that was?” asked Charlaine.
“You have to understand,” said Ludwig. “My father was sent on a diplomatic mission to Reinwick and came back with a new wife. There was certainly no period of courtship.”
“Reinwick? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with such a place.”
“It lies to the north, on the edge of the Northern Sea.”
“So you say he just came back with a new wife?”
“He did, along with a new stepson, that was about two years ago.
“How long was he there for?” she asked.
“He was gone for almost a year,” said Ludwig, “but most of that time must have been spent travelling.”
“That’s quite a trip, did he take a large entourage?”
“No, only four guards and a couple of servants. He travelled by boat.”
“I didn’t know you had docks here in Verfeld?”
“We don’t,” he said, “he left from Harlingen, the capital. I didn’t even know he was going, all I got was a letter explaining he would be gone for some time.”
“That must have been a shock,” she said.
“Indeed it was, I can only surmise that the king’s business was important.”
“Did he ever speak of why he went?”
“No,” said Ludwig, “more’s the pity, perhaps if he had done so I’d be a little more understanding.”
“Did he at least write to tell you he was bringing them back with him?”
“No, if you can believe it. He just showed up with them. The first I knew anything about it was when they stepped out of the carriage.”
“I suppose he must have been smitten,” she said, “look at us, we’ve only known each other for a few months and yet we’re practically inseparable.”
“That’s a valid point,” he admitted. “I’d never thought of it that way, it puts things in a decidengly different perspective.”
“Keep that in mind when you talk to your father.”
“You mean when WE talk to my father?”
“No,” said Charlaine, “you heard what Kasper said. Your father doesn’t like me, and I doubt he’d want to discuss family matters in front of outsiders, it’s best if I go home.”
He smiled, “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”
“Tempting as that is,” she said, “I think my mind’s made up.”
“Very well.” He stood, waiting as she did likewise. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“When will I see you again?” she asked.
&n
bsp; “I’ll be in Malburg for the Feast of Saint Agnes.”
“That’s only three days,” she said, “I think I can last until then.”
“Good, then we can both get some work done.”
She laughed. “I know I’LL get work done, but you? What possible work do you need to do?”
He placed his hands on his hips. “I’ll have you know I’m an extremly busy lord.”
“Oh, are you now? Doing what, sword practice?”
“Among other things.”
“Well, let me know if your riding out to any more villages,” she said, “and if you do, make sure you dress warmly.”
“For you,” he said, “anything.”
* * *
Baron Verfeld returned to the the keep late, as Kasper Piltz had predicted. The aide found Ludwig in the study, making adjustments to his armour.
“Your father will see you now, Master Ludwig.”
Ludwig stood, acknowledging the formality with which he had been summoned. “Lead on, Kasper.”
Piltz led him through the keep. It was quiet this time of night, the only other person of note being the single guard on the entrance to his father's office. Ludwig ignored him and waited as Kasper knocked on the door.
“Enter,” came his father’s voice.
Piltz opened the door, admitting them to the room.
“Ah, Ludwig,” said the baron, “come in. You can wait outside, Kasper, this shouldn’t take long.”
“As you wish, my lord,” the man replied.
The baron waited until the door was closed before continuing. “You wanted to see me?”
“I did,” said Ludwig, then corrected himself. “That is, I do.”
“Very well, but make it quick, it’s incredibly late, and I’d like to get to bed.”
Ludwig struggled with his thoughts, something that the baron easily spotted.
“Spit it out, man, I haven’t got all night.”
“It’s about Berthold,” began Ludwig.
“What about him?”
“He’s been skimming, Father.”
“What do you mean, ‘skimming’?”
“He went with the soldiers to Eramon to collect taxes.”
“And?”
“And he collected more than was due,” Ludwig explained.
“How much more?”
“Several crowns.”
“You are making severe accusations here, Ludwig, you’ll need to be more precise.”
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