“It’s sixty-two—but you must know that I am already being robbed. Those ponies are broke to ride and worth eighty-five a head to men with sense. The Kaaryon’s prejudice against the working breeds is as foolish as their disdain and ignorance of the provinces. I’ll throw in tack and have the herd moved to Enhedu if you will put a Yentif mark upon a deal today.”
Therein was the rub—Barok’s stamp was required. I was moving far beyond even Sahin’s idea of my behaving as a Chaukai nobleman of old. Barok would be well within his rights to hang me for putting him into it—spending twelve years worth of his stipend in one day. The room waited for my say.
“Do you know a discreet moneylender and men who would sell us good seed? Nothing from this year’s crop—good planting seed from last year’s stores.”
“Yes. Men I have been doing business with for years. I could secure excellent terms if you would trust me to negotiate the deals for you—free of charge.”
I sat down at the writing desk and wet the ink stone upon it. “What is your name?”
“In Alsonvale I am known as Stam Bestell.” He bowed as a Zoviyan would and then stood up as a man from Heneur to say, “und you can call me Eppel O’Nrosevel.”
“Well met, Eppel. How many of the ponies are in shape to carry a full load twelve days north to Enhedu?”
“All of them. But let us call it 4,700 so there will be no mistakes.”
I brushed a few figures and made a few notes. One of the lads made an observation about the variety of seed and additional livestock, and another was clever enough to add ploughs to the list. After a few words with Eppel about current prices, I put the brush to a clean sheet.
* * *
The 39th of Summer, 1195
* * *
To a lender willing to sign a two-year note for the below, Prince Barok Yentif, Arilas of Enhedu, seeks credit sufficient to purchase and see delivered to Urnedi Manor in Enhedu, 4,700 head of Fell Ponies with tack at 62 standards per ~ a price agreed in good faith with Master Stam Bestell in Alsonvale.
* * *
200 head of sheep,
200 head of cattle,
300 moldboard ploughs with framing,
600,000 weights of highest quality winter wheat seed,
80,000 weights of quality barley seed,
80,000 weights of quality oat seed,
80,000 weights of quality rye seed, and
80,000 weight of various vegetable seeds
* * *
Master Bestell is authorized to act as agent for all transaction, up to the amount of 5,000 gold weights. Trust and be to him quiet and peaceful with terms and expect the same mark upon the note that is delivered to his satisfaction.
* * *
Signed and stamped for Prince Barok Yentif, Arilas of Enhedu, by Alsman Leger Mertone
* * *
“You have made a friend of Heneur today,” Eppel said when I handed it to him.
“Say it after the ink for all of it is dry.”
“Indeed,” he said with a bow. “Let me go secure the note and get quotes on the rest. In the meantime, I’ll have the ponies brought up for an inspection and tally.”
“How long before it’s all ready to move?”
“Alsonvale is built for the likes of this. Finding so many ploughs will be a trick, but the rest is easy enough and could be ready for the road morning after next, barring bad weather.”
“Very well, Eppel. See it done.”
As soon as the door closed behind the man, the level-headed guardsmen became the Enhedu boys beneath and did everything but sing as they danced around the room.
“Enough,” Gern barked. “Leger, what will happen if Barok cannot repay the note?”
“The moneylender would call on Vall to pay it. Vall would then do to Barok and us what you would imagine him capable of.”
Gern pursed his lips but shrugged. “The list of things that could kill us in two years is already long. This one adds little weight to the rest. If we can find a market for Enhedu apples, we can find one for its grains.”
“Too late for it now, either way.” I handed him the case of coins and Barok’s accounting. “After we finish inspecting the herd, take the boys into the city to help Erom secure the rest of the supplies. Have it all delivered here and get the wagon ready to move as soon as possible. You and I will need to be on our way to Bessradi the moment everything is signed here, or we won’t make it back in time to leave with the herd.”
One of Eppel’s men brought word that the herd was ready for a tally and led us out. The boys did a proper job of inspecting them and pulled out twenty-odd mares that were too with foal to carry loads. One gelding with colic had to be put down, but the rest were in perfect condition.
I caught myself a time or two shaking my head at the idea of riding a pony, but each time one of them was led by me their size replaced the last of my Hemari disdain with a smile. Every person in Zoviya would hear about our ponies and laugh. A man in armor cannot ride a pony. These were something else and a surprise awaited the first to test us.
Gern led his troop back into Alsonvale afterward while I retired back to the bureau with Eppel. He laughed the whole way.
I asked, “The men from Aderan were not pleased with the news of our bid?”
He chuckled and handed me the documents. “I am glad you will be leaving so quickly, Colonel. They cannot afford 2,000 of anything else I have that is worth taking to war. They are beyond furious. Arilas Serm will not be pleased.”
“Any chance things will calm down then?”
“No, but this is sure to slow them down a bit—long enough maybe for winter to come and put an end to the nonsense. I hold on to hope.”
I nodded my agreement and looked over the pages. The lender’s note and the bills of sale were in excellent order, the total coming in just under 5,000 weights of gold, payable in two years in the amount of 6,368 weights. Thirteen percent interest was a terrible rate, and I did not like that it was compounding, but I was in no position to complain. I put Barok’s stamp and my signature upon them and let Eppel shake my hand rather solemnly. He was close to tears.
“Thank you, alsman.”
“Speak no more of it, friend. You did well putting together such a herd. I regret taking advantage of you.”
“I had thought I could get Heneur back to even, but I fear there is no turning those scales.”
“Keep your thumb on it. Your efforts may not have benefited Heneur, but a neighbor has been much helped. Your secret is safe with us, and Enhedu will not forget.”
He could not manage any more words for it and led us out. A dozen of Eppel’s men waited in the hallway, and when he snapped his fingers, they moved in a half-dozen directions.
I shook his hand one more time and bid him farewell.
I found the lads enjoying a meal with Erom and the rest at the inn. They had made a quick show of finding the supplies Urnedi needed, so I sat in the quiet common room to make a final accounting of our outlays.
There was more than enough coin left to purchase a wedding bracelet for Barok. I did not want to do it, but I could not deny the prince his request. I excused myself from the men while they got the wagon ready and purchased the most expensive bracelet I could at the first jeweler I found. I pretended to be a drunken grain merchant and told a story about a girl from Eril, but I did not need to sell the story very hard. The jeweler didn’t much care as long as I was paying with silver.
The deed done, I left Erom in charge and started southeast with Gern. We made it more than halfway to Bessradi with the light we had left and stopped for the night at a small inn in a very small town.
I needed the bed I collapsed into, but memories of Heneur prevented sleep. I rose and was halfway down the town’s unlit road toward its only tavern before I remembered that I did not have coin enough of my own for a bottle. I considered trading the bracelet for one but threw a rock at the waning moon instead and struggled to find a few hours sleep.
47
Arilas Barok Yentif
The alcove I had chosen for the work of those days had an excellent view of the town. This was beginning to prove more problem than advantage, however, as the constant motion below could easily catch my eye.
I was watching Dia depart for her morning ride when Fana tried to get my attention. I was too distracted at first to hear what she said. Dia made that horse come alive. The very moment they were clear of the busy streets, they were off at a spectacular gallop. The stresses of their long ride over the mountains and the harsh winter seemed to have only made the stallion stronger. Their daily rides and a steady diet of barley and eggs hadn’t hurt either. He was a credit to his kind.
I’d had half a notion to join them every morning since Leger’s departure, but had instead spent every waking moment working to house, feed, and organize the men our mason-mayor would teach to cut stone in the quarry. I had signed a very similar land sale contract with them that I had with the apple farmers, though I kept majority ownership instead of a fractional share. They would need the heavy tools Erom would bring back before Urnedi would see any fresh cut stone, but in the meantime, there was plenty to be done. Erom had left one of the carpenters in charge, and the man got them all straight to work building homes and workshops on a hill between the quarry and the river.
Their arrival had put quite a strain on my stores of timber and food, but remedy for the latter came when the first of the farmers from the villages began to deliver rabbits, duck, and cabbage as payment of their rents. The stew the Dame made from it all was a wonderful change of pace.
I sighed as Dia disappeared into the forest. At least she had Clever to keep her company.
“My lord, there is a man from Bessradi here to see you,” Fana said, quite forcefully this time as she began to gather up and put away the documents I was neglecting to read. “His name is Sevat, and he says you know him. Could he be the carriagemaker you met in Almidi?”
“He is,” I replied with some alarm and hurried to help her make the great hall more presentable.
She showed the man in, and the craftsman proved as curt as I remembered him.
“Does your offer still stand?”
“It does,” I replied and gestured for him to sit. He did not, so I asked, “Do you still have your customers?”
“More than I can satisfy. The appetite of the wealthy never changes.”
I gestured again, and he relented, finding a chair across the table from me.
“How are things at the capital?” I asked, “My alsman is there now, but I would love to hear news.”
His expression told me he had hoped to leave out some detail and was unhappy he could not. I waited for him to find words.
“The winter’s effects are still being felt. The cold and illness claimed too many.”
“No one close to you, I hope.”
“No. My family is well, thank you for asking. But the city lost many good people, and the sickness that ran through the Warrens killed many of the city’s churls. Too many labors go undone and prices continue to rise.”
“Do you own churls?”
“None. My customers will not buy a carriage touched by a churl’s hands, as you know, and my eyes are tired of debtor’s chains. You?”
“None here, either. The men of Enhedu are free. The winter was long but not such a setback for us. I am buying wheat seed and horses, not unfortunate men.”
“That is good to hear. My work takes many well-fed hands. I fear what another hard winter will do to the capital.”
“It sounds like you are eager to part with it. Shall we draw up a contract?”
“You are so ready to commit?”
“I do not see why not. I have timber, labor, and a place where your pockets will not be picked clean by taxes. You have a craft and customers. I do not see how I can go wrong offering you exactly what you came looking for. I can even offer the services of my timber camps, if you know a man who can find the timber you need.”
“I do.”
“Excellent. Then if you can bring him and all your subordinate craftsmen, I will grant you free access to any timber you need for two years. As for entry taxes, let’s call the first half year you sell carriages in Enhedu tax-free, and after that you will pay the market entry tax of fifty gold each spring and autumn as we discussed in Almidi.”
He blinked at me for a long moment, and his mouth fell open slowly. “Did you just utter the words, ‘tax-free’?”
“I did. I see no reason I should earn from you right away. Enhedu wants you here. A half year should be long enough that you can count on the move being profitable. You might even cut your prices. Imagine what your customers would say if you lowered prices when I am sure everyone else is raising theirs.”
Sevat slowly nodded. I pointed Fana toward the writing desk and gave her a summary of the terms for our contract. Sevat gave my female scribe a long sideways look.
“Where was she trained?” he asked with a very curious tone, then whispered, “Dagoda?”
“No. She is the reeve’s daughter. He trained her,” I replied, aware finally of how odd it must seem. “Is it a problem?”
“No, well. It’s just not what you would expect, is it? There are none like her at Bessradi that I’ve ever seen, short of those who serve the church.”
“If Bessradi was doing the same as I,” I said defensively, “it could double its workforce.”
This gave him pause—a very long pause. He said thoughtfully, “Having more to look forward to for my daughters than becoming one of Bayen’s sermod or a breeder of children would be ... desirable.”
I did not understand him at first, but then guessed he must want more for his children than Bessradi had to offer. I’d not considered the problem before so decided I had better keep my mouth shut on the subject. The pause in our conversation grew uncomfortably long.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, and the craftsman smiled for the first time.
The Dame brought up some of her marvelous stew, and Sevat questioned me about Urnedi until Fana gestured to the document. We read through it, discussed its terms, and made a few small changes. Fana sat right back down to make two corrected copies.
While we waited, I took him on a tour of Urnedi and introduced him to Sahin and other members of our consortium before giving him his pick of the remaining plots. We also spent some time talking to the carpenters about what kind of structures he would need. The master craftsman liked the look of the simple structures we had been raising, and requested a half dozen of them as well as a pair of larger warehouse spaces and a set of simple, high-roofed workshops. The better of the carpenters joined us for evening meal and afterward sketched the long street of structures. Sevat nodded enthusiastically when the man presented the drawing, and we watched admiringly while the man made an identical copy for Sevat to take with him.
After the meal, we set our names on the contracts. I invited him to spend the night, and he agreed, sleeping in Leger’s apartment. The next morning came quickly, and I bid him a safe journey after a meal for the road. I found a new admiration for him as he went—a solo ride to Urnedi and back was not for the faint of heart.
The sight made me think of Dia, but other memories—new flashes of Katat and Kyoden’s life leapt across my vision, and his voice bit my ears.
‘Not enough. This is not as it was. Where are the red stones of the thriving avenues, the tall buildings? Where are my people? Where is our city.’
I closed my eyes, but his whispers grew louder. I retreated into the noise and motion of the town, but even as the king’s temper was soothed by the commotion, I was left staring at a new problem.
I had only three unclaimed plots left along the streets of my town. It was a wonderful problem to have, but a problem all the same. I went straight back up to the great hall and set to work with Fana to plan how best to expand. It did not go well. The carriageway seemed the logical choice for the next set of Urnedi’s streets, but each drawing of them seemed more foo
lish and shortsighted than the last.
By the end of my third day of this, I concluded that not only was I a lousy planner, I was also without a long winter over which I could slowly ponder the problem. Fana tried several times to tell me the same, but it didn’t sink in until she laid out the results of my work across the table. I could not tell the first drawing from the last. I sat back into my chair and shook my head. I was doing it again: spending my time so fixated on a task that the rest of Urnedi’s needs were lost to the effort.
I needed to make decisions based on the good work of others, not meddle with every detail myself.
The solution proved so blatantly obvious I was embarrassed. As with Leger’s trips beyond my reach, my people had proven themselves capable many times. Before I could change my mind, I snatched up the drawings, closed my eyes, and tore them in half.
Momentum on my side, I asked, “What is the name of the keen-eyed carpenter who so impressed Sevat? The one Erom left in charge when he went to Alsonvale.”
“His name is Merit,” she said and laughed lightly. “Should I prepare a list of everyone’s names for you?”
I frowned at her and asked her to summon the man, instead. She shrugged and went, leaving me to reconsider her offer during the interval. Such a list would save me the embarrassment of so often asking.
Merit arrived wearing a soiled smock and tunica, sawdust on his forehead, and grease on his chin, reconfirming my opinion of him. How hard would a man have to work for this to be what he looked like after cleaning himself up for an audience with a Yentif arilas? After the briefest discussion of all the goings on in town, I assigned him the task of surveying the surrounds and making a recommendation for the town’s expansion.
He was so elated, I was sure I saw a tear splash a clean circle on the toe of his dusty boot as he hurried out. My own exhilaration and relief was challenged only by my fatigue.
Ghost in the Yew: Volume One of the Vesteal Series Page 31