"That or it's our wage for not checking the stack over winter." Caedda sounded resigned, and his shoulders rose, then sank as he took a deep breath and let it back out. "Not your fault, Ehric. But now that you know what to look for, we have to sort through all the stones and take out the ones with inside cracks." The boy turned as green as if he'd eaten mouse-fouled meat and Caedda added, "We can still use them, just not where they will be heated and cooled too often."
That they managed by dark, but all three had horrible headaches from squinting at the rocks, looking for cracks, and sorting those too badly damaged from the good and mostly-good ones. Turold did not appear much better when he thumped down beside the fire that night, poking it with a stick before drinking whatever was in his water skin. "Tal brought news from Garmouth."
"They found whoever set fire to the old shelter in the beast market?" one of the smelter men asked.
"No, not yet, or if so they're not sayin'. No, seems a farmer claims a great-hauler was stolen, a prize lead female, full trained. He's demandin' the bird, the thief, and recompense because without the bird he can't get the team to plow for weeds and lost his crop." Turold spat. "Bird disappeared two eight-days back."
The others looked at each other and most of the men shrugged. After a bit Caedda said, "Not seen a trained, mature female on the loose recently, not unless someone already put her into a team and she's pullin' for different lands, so to say." He sniffed, then ate more of whatever supper was. "How bad were the weeds before, to take the field in two eight-days?"
"And how badly trained were the others that they can't pull a weed-plow without a lead? Never seen a three-bird hitch for weeds." The skinny smelter apprentice sneezed off to the side. "Pardon. Single bird's enough to pull a weed plow. Even I know that."
"If that weren't enough, another rumor has it that the miners stole a farmer's boy to work in the mine, or to feed to zwurge." Turold rubbed his forehead with both hands. "What is in the damn water down there, besides rock piss and whatever's in Iron Spring? The Aldread lord sayin' he's a battle mage, the fire in the market, missin' great-haulers and now that folly," he kept rubbing even as he shook his head. "Stick with ale and small beer when you take the Eighth Day is all I can figure."
"No worries there, Turold. We all know what fish and chervi do in water." The old joke generated laughter, but Aedelbert heard wariness under it. What was in the water indeed? Or was it in the air from the south, the insanity from Liambruu spreading on the summer winds?
He still hadn't decided when he, Ehric, and Caedda returned to Garmouth for the Eighth Day and two more rest days. They reported to Wassa, claimed their pay, and wallowed in baths. "Those springs up slope are cold," Ehric grumbled as he sank into the soaking tub. "No wonder the schaef herders can drink milk all summer and still have fresh for soft cheese."
Caedda stuck his tongue out as if being choked. Aedelbert rolled his eyes. How Caedda could refuse to eat one of the best things about early summer still escaped his partner. Schaef cheese with early herbs, spread on fresh bread from the first wheat of spring, mmm, his mouth watered at the memories. Some men had no sense of good food, really.
A beast mage joined them in the tub. "You seen a stray mature female great-hauler?"
"No, no stray female great-haulers, not yet," Aedelbert replied.
The beast mage nodded. "If the man would offer more than a half copper, he might get some answers. Bird probably found someone to feed her and left the district." He sighed and relaxed in the water. "Not my problem."
The next morning, Caedda shook Aedelbert awake. "We're called to the Council hall as law-speaker and witness."
10
City Walls and Freedom
"We what?" Aedelbert blinked several times. Caedda adjusted the fit of his best jerkin and brushed his trousers. "We are wanted at the City Council meeting?"
"Yes. Me because of knowing a little of imperial law from being raised in Harnancourd's lands, and you to vouch for me." Caedda sounded less than pleased as he combed his hair. "You'd think someone here would know imperial city law, or have the proper books."
Aedelbert changed his work shirt and jacket for a better linen shirt and brown jerkin, then the brown jacket that mostly matched. "I wonder if they thought they did, and discovered that all they have are books on mining law."
"Probably."
And if they hadn't been a free city for long, or were not officially a free city, then they would not have bothered with obtaining copies of the laws. Aedelbert tried to remember what the laws were. He didn't recall. He split one of the remaining small bread loaves with Caedda, chewing as he thought. If someone lived in a free city for a year without requesting aid, he could be a resident and not be claimed by a lord, but he wasn't a citizen. The free cities were particular about becoming a citizen with full rights and duties, including charity right. That much he could recall, because everyone learned it as they learned to read and write. But how Platport or Rhonari had become free cities... Not his concern.
"The Five Free Cities have always been free since their founding, so they don't count," Caedda sighed. "I wonder if that's what the council had assumed, that everyone was like that."
"Probably. Assuming never ends well."
They stepped into the Wheat Sheaf and got a tankard each of small ale, then filled their waterskins before going to the council building. Aedelbert suspected they'd be there a while, and men talking always made the room warm. The building glowed orange in the morning sun, and he wondered if he'd ever get used to that shade of color. It came from diverting mine water and letting it settle, then mixing the results with distilled needle-tree sap and oil. The ferocious orange likely never would grow easy to look at, but he appreciated the thrift and how the blend stopped rain and wind. The first floor rested in part on columns to allow for a sheltered entry and market area. The council building stood opposite the temples of Gember and Korvaal. When a man in the market faced the council building with his back to those temples, the Scavenger's place and a little chapel to Valdher sat on the left and a beast market and Yoorst's temple extended to the right. Radmar and others had smaller places of worship away from the market square, and Maarsdam's temple had been built into the merchants' confraternity inn. Other stores and two residences squeezed in between the temples and market and council building. Most of them remained creamy grey or white with paintings on their plaster, not eye-searing orange.
The two men entered the iron-bound wooden doors and a messenger boy led them up to the council room proper. They found spots in the guest benches and sat. Someone had painted scenes on the walls, and Aedelbert decided that the man had not been too bad, although he never seemed to draw hands properly. They either clenched and looked like tan rocks with lumps, or flopped like a dead great-hauler's foot, in both cases too large for the body they attached to. The painter had known how to depict the land, however, and that had probably been what he'd been hired to do. The mines and mountains looked exactly as they did outside the city wall. Small rats stood or crouched in the corners of the paintings, reminding everyone who had given the city its wealth.
No, not city, Aedelbert corrected. Town, not city because it did not truly have city right. He turned his attention to the men and women in the room. Some sat at a long table, and they all had strips of crimson and silver cloth draped over their shoulders, the ends loosely tied. Those must be the council members, he decided, and used the cloth since they did not have the money for chains of office the way some cities did. The two women sat at opposite ends of the table. One was obviously a window and wore the grey shawl and iron necklace of a widow under her sash of office. The younger woman drummed the fingers of one hand on the table and waved off a messenger boy with a fast, hard flick of her other hand. She wore a necklace with beads of gold and green saka, and had what seemed to be a craft master's ring on one thumb. The men sitting between them ranged from ancient to moderately young, and Aedelbert recognized two craft masters. A tall, well-proportioned ma
n seated in the middle of the table stood, looked left and right, and tapped a small wooden copy of a miner's hammer on a sounding block. "I, Colar Landesman, call this meeting to order."
Everyone stood and the widow read a petition to the Scavenger and other gods for wisdom and patience. The latter probably more than the former, if the council were anything like others Aedelbert had heard about, or trade confraternity governing boards.
"This meeting has been called to discuss the requirements for Garmouth changing from a town under the lords of Aldread to an Imperial Free City," Colar announced after the invocation and moment of quiet. Most people nodded, and those with bench privilege sat. Two women eased out the back of the room, and the taller of the pair hissed, "I told you it wasn't a tax meeting, lackwit." Aedelbert felt Caedda chuckling silently beside him. There was always one who didn't listen.
The widow raised a hand. "I requested the presence of Caedda Quedl to act as law-speaker on imperial law, given our lack of current knowledge." She glowered at the man beside her from under thin eyebrows. He had not obtained the books? Or was this a long-standing problem? "He is from Harnancourd and has experience with the laws governing the free cities of the empire."
Caedda stood and bowed.
Colar acknowledged him. "Does any man vouch for you?"
Aedelbert stood. "I am Aedelbert Starken, born to the Scavenger in Two Springs of Platsmouth. I have worked with Caedda Quedl for three years and vouch for him."
"Thank you, Master Aedelbert."
Aedelbert sat, and Caedda moved so he could be seen and heard more easily by the notary recording the meeting. The paneling in the room helped, but the room had a number of odd nooks and draperies that muffled things, or did in every other meeting hall Adedlbert had visited.
Master Actulf raised his hand and Colar passed the little wooden hammer to him. "Caedda Quedl, as acting law-speaker, what is required for a city to become free?"
"If the city has been founded and protected by the lord, with justice served and proper worship paid in the temples, the city must buy itself free. Unless the lord is the last of his line with no heirs or assigns, in which case freedom comes with the extinction of the noble line. That being, if the township does not petition another lord to come take over, as has happened in the past." Caedda paused to let the others absorb what he'd said.
"Lord Heinrik has two sons and two daughters," Colar stated. The notary scribe added that to the notes, then looked to Caedda and gestured for him to continue.
"If the city provides great service to the emperor during a time of dire need, and the noble does not object, the emperor may grant the city its freedom as a reward." Caedda looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "This was last done for Moahnabrig in the hundred years following the end of the Great Cold."
Not an option now, in other words. What sort of service had it been? Had the rights to the bridge come at the same time, or been negotiated later? Aedelbert had never heard, not that it mattered to him since he didn't work that far to the south.
"How much would it cost to buy ourselves free of the lords of Aldread?" The speaker's hands looked like those of a potter, stained with clay and glazes. The man leaned forward and gestured to a priest of Korvaal.
The priest shook his head. "Men and ladies of the council, our records show that no purchase price is needed because Garmouth has never been valued."
It was now, Aedelbert snapped, then caught himself. He wasn't the only one, judging by the expressions on the other people in the room and the hurried whispers.
Caedda smiled. "Ah. That means that the town predates the claims of the lords. It can happen that a town was founded, then requested protection from someone and put itself under his overlordship. Milunis, I believe, was one such."
The notary shuffled his papers like a mouse pawing through leaves for a nut or crumb. "Ah. Honored counselors, honored Father, guests, once and only once have the lords of Aldread been asked to protect the city. It was when the so-called free-bands still roamed during the time of Lord Jens the Broad, over ten generations ago, according to this list." He held up the page. "This is a copy of the record book of great events. Garmouth had been here for five generations before the Aldread family entered the region and were asked for assistance, according to this."
Oh, that complicated matters, or did it? Aedelbert had no idea.
Caedda narrowed one eye and pursed his lips as he thought. Colar looked to him. Once the commotion faded a little, Colar asked, "If we were without a lord at our founding, what is required to be a free city?"
"Two generations living inside walls and governing themselves."
"That's all?" Colar sounded shocked, and his eyes had opened wide. A number of others also startled and stared, then looked at their neighbors.
Caedda nodded and folded his arms. "Two generations inside walls and self-governing. That means no one from outside, save the Emperor or his ambassador, provided justice or gave laws."
The younger woman on the council raised her hand and was given the speaker's hammer. "Sir, what kind of walls?"
"Just walls. Wood or stone, with gates, and that can be defended. They must be acknowledged as walls," Caedda leaned forward a little. "A dirt bank is not a wall. The city must be able to keep out people and animals, have proper gates and be able to bar them."
Two of the counselors slumped in their seats as if with relief. Two others whispered back and forth behind their hands, one gesturing to a painting on the wall.
Colar took the hammer again. "Sir, is stone more likely to have a supported claim?"
That was a strange way to put it. Caedda nodded. "Yes, Master Colar. Obviously a city that can build in stone is prosperous enough to pay its taxes and has been left alone long enough to have the time to build with stone."
"When was the last time the lords rendered justice? I don't recall ever," an old woman among the observers declared. "And I remember my father telling me how the Scavenger revealed the Gift, and one of my cousins on mother's side owned one of the farms buried in the earth slide."
The priest of Korvaal covered his mouth with one hand for a moment. Then he said, "Widow Kemp has the right of it—"
"As ever," someone hissed, raising chuckles. Aedelbert noticed that several people felt elbows in their ribs from their seatmates or neighbors, if he read the little twitches and winces correctly.
"Ahem." The priest glared for a moment and the rustling stilled. "As I was saying, by the temple account books, sixty winters have passed since the last Lord Aldread came in person to render justice or to worship."
Bergmeister Stithulf had been standing off to the side and nodded his agreement. "Aye that, Honored Father. Agents have come to collect taxes and the lord's seventh, and look at the records, but never a lord himself, and never to do justice."
Aedelbert blinked a little at the news. What had been the justification for taking the money if the noble did not do his duty to provide justice at the very least? Since when did nobles need a reason to take money, a bitter little voice inside his head hissed. Aedelbert hid his irritation as best he could. Lord Heinrik would probably claim that since no one had attacked the city, it showed that he was protecting it and had kept people away. Which made about as much sense as a miner complaining that he never found silver when he never set foot inside a mine.
Master Algar folded his arms and frowned. Then his expression cleared and he peered toward Colar, raising one half-eyebrow. Did any iron smith have full eyebrows, or was singeing them off a requirement for mastery? Not that Aedelbert planned to inquire, given the size of most iron smiths' arms and wrists. Colar saw the look and handed him the wooden hammer. "It sounds to me that Lord Heinrik has no grounds to claim anything of us so long as we do not encroach on his family lands. If the rumors are true about the Great Northern Emperor being in the south once more, I move that we send a petition to him, requesting acknowledgment of our freedom."
A hubbub of voices drowned out any response from the rest of
the council. The widow scowled, two of the men leaned toward each other and whispered, while the others sat back and waited for Colar to still the visitors and guests. He allowed the commotion to go on for a while then pounded a block of wood with the wooden hammer. The sound cut through the noise and everyone settled a little. Their expressions ranged from fear to delight to careful non-expressions. Aedelbert noted those two in case he ever had to do business with them or entered a wagering game.
"Lord Heinrik will not, in all likelihood, quietly accept such a declaration," Colar reminded the room. "Master Caedda, what can he do in response, under imperial law?"
Caedda rubbed beside his nose with one hand. "Sir, if I recall correctly, he can make a counter claim of justice and defense, but will have to prove in writing or with multiple witnesses that he and his family have acted as lords in truth." He inhaled, then exhaled. "I believe, but please do not trust my memory alone, sir, that he could use armed force to remove the walls and reinstate his claim, thus proving that Garmouth requires defending since the residents were unable to do so. He could also require a claim-release payment. I do not know how large that would be."
"A lot," someone muttered, drawing sour faces. No one challenged the speaker. Well, when did a noble allow anyone to leave his lands without paying some sort of fee? Aedelbert couldn't think of any, even if it was only a small copper or a quarter day's labor. Some nobles do their proper duty, Aedelbert admitted. But not as many as should. The lords of Harnancourd being the prime bad example of mismanagement, at least according to Caedda and some others.
"He'll say that he didn't give permission or issue a decree that we could build the walls, and so we are violating his orders," one of the councilors stated, his words slow and unhappy.
"Imperial law overrides local law in matters such as this, sir," Caedda reminded everyone. "That said, Garmouth must prove that the lords of Aldread have not done justice or worshipped here, and that the city has been able to defend itself from behind walls for two generations and more. And be able to retain that freedom until word comes from the Emperor acknowledging the city's status as a free city."
Miners and Empire Page 14