“He was discovered in the storeroom with this,” Horace said. Erom stumbled back a step while Barok drew his rapier and started around toward the boy.
“Get him,” Pemini growled, and I agreed.
His envoys all tore after him, all of them shouting the same. “No, my lord. Stop. You can’t. You cannot kill him.”
“Yes. I can,” Barok replied and started up.
“Why were you in the storeroom?” Erom shouted up at his son. Barok and everyone else came to a halt, but the boy could not look at his father.
“Don’t answer that question,” Eargram said as he shouldered his way past Barok. He drew his dirk and took hold of the boy, saying, “Guardsman Oklas, you are under arrest. Speak not unless a nolumari stands before you.”
Barok’s rapier was still aimed at the lad, and he advanced another step. I willed him forward.
The uncertain greencoats stepped back from him, leaving Eargram and his small dirk alone with the lad.
“Father!” the lad shouted, and we turned to see Erom fall first to his knees and then forward onto the stone. “Help him! Help him, Sergeant Horace!”
Barok rushed down with the rest. Sergeant Horace pushed everyone away, but it was apparent that the mayor had simply fainted.
Eargram took the opportunity to rush the lad away.
Barok sheathed his sword and came up at Selt’s insistence. Gern and Fana followed. I called them over when they entered the hall.
“You saw the whole thing?” he asked me.
“Why would he try to kill our baby?”
“We’ll find out,” he replied and said to Gern. “Seems you were right.”
“You suspected him?” I asked. “And you let him walk free?”
“I had men keeping watch on him day and night,” Gern said. “No one was ever in any danger. He’d been himself up till now. I’d held onto hope that it wasn’t him, but this proves it.”
“It most certainly does not,” Selt said and drew many angry eyes, but he did not back down. “Proof and judgment are the providence of the courtroom, and we do our lord a disservice by speaking of this matter in this way. We must replace the jokes that are told about our unwashed citizens with tales of commerce and of laws.”
“Laws? Fuck your laws,” Pemini said, stood, and started toward him. “He was trying to kill one of the Vesteal. We insult the Spirit with each breath you let him take.”
Selt stood his ground. “Murder is no tool of Hers. It is a tool of men. And it will not be a thuggish band of backwoods savages that retakes this cold earth. It will be a kingdom of learned men and professional soldiers that sees Her restored.”
“Enough,” Barok said, but Pemini’s fist was already moving. The blow caught Selt square on the chin, and he went down.
Fana rushed to take hold of her, but Pemini turned on her, and for a moment, I worried she would keep swinging. Her rage cooled, but what was left was a look of pure hate. Fana backed away. There was something going on between the two of them that I had missed.
Pemini noticed how many eyes were upon her, and without another word she fled down the stairs.
I rose, and Barok thought somehow that he should stop me.
I glared down at his hand. “You and your learned man have things to build,” I said. “Leave the rest to us.”
He let me go, and I found my way down toward the kitchen. I heard Pemini quietly crying as I descended the last turn of the stairs. I peered around to see her on her knees in the center of the empty kitchen. The room was a mess from the struggle the guards had had with Anton. Pemini held a broom across her lap and dripped tears upon the thick handle.
I had no idea at all why she was crying. I did not know her at all.
I retreated, and not knowing what else to do, I stood guard at the landing to make sure no one disturbed her.
When I heard the brush of bristles upon the stone floor, I withdrew to my room.
17
Arilas Barok Yentif
“Captain Gern, report please,” I said while the rest of my envoys looked on from around the wide table in the great hall. Six days in a row, I’d asked them to treat me as they always had, but could still feel their sympathetic eyes—as though I was a wounded puppy who could not be let outside. Erom was the worst. He would go so far as to pull out my chair for me.
Gern cleared his throat to summon back my attention. He said, “One of the soldiers in my command may have been responsible for the rockslide.”
“Who?” I asked but deduced at once that he meant Erom’s son—the soldier who’d claimed to have found the boot print. I said hastily, “Don’t answer that.”
“Just so, my lord. I have no proof as of yet so would prefer not to malign the lad’s family.”
“Is he Chaukai?”
“Nearly. He is amongst those we mean to include when Soma returns.”
“You think this man and Darmia were connected?”
“Two attacks the same day aimed at those who support the Spirit of the Earth? I cannot mark it down as coincidence. We are working to figure out who they knew in common. Where there are two, there are others.”
I did not like the news but had not expected better. I thanked him for his efforts and tried to set it all aside. Other critical tasks were before me. The hall felt very small.
“Can someone open a few windows?” I asked. Erom hurried around from gallery to gallery, but the breeze did not soothe the feeling of confinement.
I picked up one of the stacks of documents before me. They were letters of invitation Fana had composed to Arilas Aldus Hooak of Thanin and the twenty-five merchants and craftsmen we knew in Kormandi. It was the only other town of real size that Mercanfur’s ships could safely reach along the north coast. The next town to the east was Miandi in Abodeen—a destination frowned on because of the many small islands and shoals along the rocky coast.
“Too aggressive,” I said and handed them to her. “The Hooak celebrate their royalty. Anything but an apology and supplication will offend them.”
“But we need the permission of their arilas to visit the harbor of Kormandi,” she said. “Shouldn’t we ask for it?”
“If he’s not willing to give it, arguing for it serves no purpose.”
She thumbed through the sheets and set aside the one meant for the arilas. “I cannot doubt your knowledge of royalty, but the merchants and craftsmen will have needs, same as everyone. I don’t see the harm in reacquainting them with the Bessradi craftsmen who have joined us and advertising the goods we could deliver.”
Selt looked eager to join the conversation, and I waved him on. “The Hooak of Thanin commands the northern tithe road. They see themselves as the arbiters of northern commerce and share the Kaaryon’s opinion of ships. I doubt any of them will respond regardless of the deference you pay them, but you may as well stick your foot in it and see what comes out. I would send the letters as drafted. They can make your position no worse.”
“Very well. The pair of you were clearly ready for me. You may send them. Erom, you have a proposal for me?”
He was still opening windows, but finally abandoned the one he was working on and trotted across. He handed me a single sheet.
The 6th of Spring, 1196
* * *
Lord Prince,
As you may know well, Enhedu’s rain turns every dirt road and trail into muddy bogs. So, before another of Enhedu’s long, soaking rains has our master craftsmen screaming again about our dirt roads—and so that you will know the cost—I have prepared this proposal of works.
* * *
All costs in silver standards
* * *
To rebuild and connect the stone roads to Urnedi
70 wagonloads of cobblestones and mortar at 12 per: 840
Drayage fee to Gern & Company: 14
120 quarrymen for 10 days at 12 per: 120
* * *
To pave Urnedi’s muddy streets
110 wagonloads of cobblestones and mortar at
12 per: 1,320
Drayage fee to Gern & Company: 22
120 quarrymen for 20 days at 12 per: 240
* * *
To trench and cobble a sewer from Urnedi to the river
220 wagonloads of cobblestones and mortar at 12 per: 2,640
Drayage fee to Gern & Company: 44
120 quarrymen for 40 days at 12 per: 480
Total: 5,720
* * *
With respects,
Erom Oklas, Mayor and Master Mason of Urnedi
“Complete with a sewer. Have you made some of the stones?” I asked as I relished the smell of the crisp breeze.
“Yes, and I’ve laid a section where the Enhedu road ends to make sure they sit well.”
“Already laid some?” I asked. “This is something I must see. Come, everyone, you can finish your reports as we ride out.”
Gern said, “Out, my lord?”
“Yes. If we are going to make such a change to our town as this, we must see the stones,” I said as I made for the freedom of the open air before anyone could stop me. The rest trotted down, the garrison was roused, and horses were hurried up from the stables. Horace and a troop stayed behind to guard Dia.
The event became quite a production. The road was scouted before I was allowed into the open, and one local man out hunting rabbit was seized. He was incredulous at being so roughly treated until Gern vouched for the man and apologized to him. The drama was brief, the Chaukai got themselves comfortable with my riding down the road a bit, and so we started east.
“Reeve Sestar, you have a report?”
He seemed equally glad to be out in the sunshine. His tone remained as serious and professional as ever, but just a bit of a smile was on his face. He said, “The winter rye and barley are in at the expense of every man, wagon, horse, and machine in your service. We will not manage the winter wheat later this spring so neatly, and the autumn harvest will be ten times the size. Master Gloss has requested approval to construct six more mills and fifteen more threshing machines, but we have metal enough for only one of each. You are familiar with the requirements. We must secure the metals he needs, or the autumn harvest will rot in the fields.”
“How many men will it take if we cannot build the machines?”
“Relying upon the adage that a man can by himself harvest, thrash, grind, and bag fifteen acres of land, you would need roughly 15,000 able men to immigrate to Enhedu for the harvest. If you need all of the work done in a day or two so that you can deliver it in orderly fashion to market as you did last year, then it will take closer to 150,000 men. I strongly advise the acquisition of the requisite metals.”
“We are planting 300,000 acres,” I said absently as I did the math.
“As we speak. They cleared and tilled it during the winter.”
“Very well, Reeve,” I replied. “You may approve his request and let it be known that any new supply of metal will be used to satisfy his needs before all others. Anything else?”
“One last item, yes. The beehives suffered from an outbreak of yellow jackets. The damage was growing severe enough that plans were made to send men up into the trees to deal with them directly, but a subsequent outbreak of dragonflies has nearly wiped out the wasps. I’ve prepared an estimate of the expected shortfalls in honey and wax production.”
“That explains the flocks of sparrows,” Erom said, and the group fell to debating whether an increase in the population of hawks was in the offing. Eargram noted the half dozen circling overhead.
I encouraged Fana to proceed with her report, and she asked everyone to please quiet down.
Seeing her so calm and focused was instantly heartening. What she had to say, however, crushed our fine spirits into powder.
“I’m canceling the spring festival,” she said. “Carrying it off after the harvest and planting is not possible. I am working to find a date later in the year that will better suit Enhedu. The 80th of Summer, perhaps.”
“I was hoping to invite the neighboring arilas yet this season,” I said.
“How many invitations have you delivered?” she asked. I had nothing to say to that, and she moved on to another topic.
“I’ve prepared all the inns to receive whatever guests might begin to arrive when the Enhedu road clears: the tax collector, stipend carrier, messengers, and so forth.”
“Of course. I’d forgotten. It was a menagerie that visited us last year.”
“A report of the preparations awaits you within the safe confines of the keep.”
Her quip struck home, but a realization set it quickly aside.
Dia’s baby. Of course! She is due on or about the 80th of Summer.
I clapped and smiled, not caring that I’d arrived late to the happy conclusion. I thanked Fana for her excellent work.
Bailiff Eargram was next and rode up beside me. He wore a managerial smile upon his face. He’d shaved his beard and his head, revealing a set of nasty scars that reached up his neck and around his left ear. He looked nothing like the haggard jailor from Apped Prison who had ridden with Geart to our gates. Being a bailiff instead seemed to suit him.
“We’ve seen some more trouble in the village on the ridge south of Ojesti. A missing purse, a missing pony, and the wild tale of a swineherd who swears he chased off a dozen men trying to steal his best sows. I’ve made some arrests, mostly from the population of churls you freed. It is becoming a problem. Every misplaced penny is being blamed on them. The chatter is getting ugly.”
That explained why Eargram had changed his appearance so dramatically. Apped Prison had been filled with those churls—or slaves as more and more were coming to call them. I did not like that he’d been required to change his appearance.
“What are you doing with those you have arrested?”
“Not much. We’ve no law priest, so can’t have any trials. I’ve stowed them all in one of the warehouses. It is a poor solution. I’m hoping Avin returns with his vest.”
“Couldn’t Reeve Sestar sit as judge?” Fana asked. “My father used to settle disputes all the time when he had the job.”
I looked to Selt. He said, “No, and never let it be suggested. Only those anointed as nolumari by the Tanayon can preside over public trials. Save Prince Barok, of course, as the owner of these lands. But both the Prelature and the Council of Lords take a very dim view on the practice. An arilas could easily find himself sanctioned by the Council for doing so.”
I asked him, “Did Avin say how he intended to be reinstated?”
“No, and I do not believe he will be. The Tanayon is a pit of snakes, and the last time he tangled with the prelature, they stripped his vestments, declared him churlish, and shipped him off to Apped Prison. I’d lay fifty silvers on his failure.”
“I’ll take that bet,” Eargram said and rode close enough to offer Selt his hand. He had no choice but to shake it.
“Why so confident?” I asked Eargram as Selt’s poise visibly bled away.
“Avin has survived the Tanayon, Apped, and the Hessier. Handling a bit of the bureaucracy hardly rates.”
I tried to accept his opinion. Few men could know a man better than his jailor, but my feelings were more akin to my reeve’s on the subject.
“Thank you, Eargram. Hold these men until Avin returns. And let it be known that those who are found innocent will be compensated a quarter-piece of silver for each day they spent falsely imprisoned. Please also think upon what alternative to the problem exists in the event that Avin fails.”
This satisfied him, and I waved Chairman Nace up from the back of the line. He was a slow-spoken and deliberate man, in sharp contrast to the carriagemaker he worked for. The consortium had elected him in a single ballot to replace Sahin, who could no longer server as bowyer, greencoat, and the consortium’s chairman at the same time. Naming him an envoy had been an easy decision.
“We need customers,” he said. “You’ve read my report.”
I had. The trickle of business we were doing
with Enhedu’s villages and Trace did not begin to dent the supply of goods my master craftsmen were adding to our warehouses with an ever more terrifying pace. I thought to mention Heneur or Thanin, but in purely commercial terms neither could be counted on. The only answer for it was ships that could reach more distant shores. I had a handful of ships that would be ready for sea trials in twenty days if we could cover the shortfall in cordage—and if we could find captains and crews—and if my admiral returned. If. If. If.
Erom called the line to a halt.
His destination proved to be a brief meadow where our rutted and pitted dirt trails met the great gray stones of the ancient Edonian road. Several tall stacks of gray cobblestones stood off to one side and had been used to extend the road several paces.
“You clever old fox. It’s beautiful. How did you do it?” I asked, without considering what such a compliment would invite.
He launched into an exhausting description of his method for preparing the roadbed and laying the stone. My eyes glazed over, but I could not interrupt him. Gern looked ready to do it for me. He did not like that I was in the open. And truth be told, I’d nearly gotten my fill of fresh air and sunshine. My clothes were starting to stick to me.
I was steeling myself to interrupt our exuberant mason when he inexplicably froze midsentence. It caught me off guard.
Then without a word, he whirled his pony around and charged north across the meadow before just as quickly pulling up and wheeling back around.
The greencoats drew their weapons and fanned out around us.
“What is it?” Gern demanded.
A cold chill crept up my spine. Was it Erom and his son who were out to murder me?
“What did Kyoden say?” Erom asked, his expression something close to madness.
Forgotten Stairs Page 3