Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (66 page)

Read Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Online

Authors: Mark E. Cooper

Tags: #Sword & Sorcery, #Magic & Wizards, #Epic, #Historical, #Fantasy, #Series, #Sorceress, #sorcerer, #wizard

BOOK: Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3
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Julia frowned. “Is that slavery?”

“Not quite,” Keverin said.

“It either is, or it’s not. Which is it?”

“Peonage is mostly gone from Deva. I can’t tell you how it originated—”

“I can my lord, if you’ll permit me?” Mathius said.

“Go ahead.”

“It began not long after the Founders settled Devarr,” Mathius began in his lecturer’s voice. “Devarr was only a town then. As the population grew, so did the need to expand. Some of the poorer folk were persuaded to work on farms as peons and their lives were greatly improved. You see Julia, most of them were unskilled, and Devarr was inundated with people having no chance of work. The Founders had a real problem persuading people to spread out. Devarr was the first city and it was over populated. No one wanted to found new towns and cities if it meant leaving the safety of the Capital. The Founders thought long and hard on the problem and came up with a solution. They decided to raise a nobility to watch over the people and protect them and their new homes. Forty lords were raised and given land to hold throughout the kingdom. They obviously needed farms and people to work them, so they attracted them away from Devarr by offering more of the yield from the farms for themselves.

“Peonage
is
a form of slavery, but where slaves have no rights, peons do. Most lords tax their people and that’s all they take. In return, they provide protection and governance. The lords are loyal to their people, and the people reciprocate. Peons on the other hand don’t own their farms as lord Keverin’s people do. Instead, they work for their lord and all they produce belongs to him. In return for their labour he returns a certain percentage of the yield from their farms and they are allowed to live there.”

Julia wasn’t as horrified as Keverin so obviously thought she would be. She was used to people working for a wage, and this sounded no different really. “So they work for a wage like our guardsmen.”

“Ah… no, not really. The percentage a traditional peon keeps is barely enough to live on.” Mathius winced at the look Julia gave him.

Now
she was horrified. “How can you call Cogan an honourable man when he treats his people like this?”

Keverin smiled. “As I said, peonage is mostly gone. I can think of only two lords off hand still using it. Lord Lomond is one, and Lord Ascol is another. I say Lomond is an honourable lord because he allows almost half the yield from his farms to stay with the peons. That is much more than they need to live on. Look around Julia. You can see that his people prosper. I heard that upon his death all peons on Lomond land will inherit their farms. Cogan is old. I expect his people will be celebrating his death soon.”

“What of his heir?”

“I believe Lord Blaise will abolish peonage whether his father wills it or not. He and I are friends and we’re of like mind. That’s one reason Cogan doesn’t like me.”

Julia subsided somewhat mollified. Cogan’s people would be celebrating the year of his death for a long time to come. It was a strange kind of immortality, but each to his own she supposed.

They soon navigated through the outskirts of Lord Lomond’s land, and turned onto a new road running southeast. The area was crown land. The king owned all unclaimed land throughout Deva. He would occasionally give a few leagues to a lord for some service performed.

Father Gideon spoke up from his place next to Mathius. “The Church also holds land such as this. The Holy Father administers it and the money is used to fund good works.”

“That’s interesting. No one lives here, but I assume Church land must have people,” Julia said. “Who lives on it then?”

“Monks mostly, but towns do grow in the most unexpected places. Poor soil is the reason no one lives here.”

“And water is scarce,” Keverin added.

Julia frowned. She used her mage sight to examine her surroundings and found that Gideon was right. Perhaps ten inches or so below the surface, she could see the tell-tale patterns in the energy field indicating rock. It seems the Athinian Mountains continued under the surface, but were folded upward here. Millions of years from now the land would erode to reveal another mountain range where she was riding.

She could tell there was plenty of water under the ground, but the rock prevented digging a well. She knew there was a way of digging wells with magic—there was Dirlston’s well for one. Mathius’ father had earned a living creating such things, but she didn’t know how. She wouldn’t try it without a good reason in any case, but this kind of thing brought home to her yet again how little she really knew about the uses of magic.

“Lady? Are you well?” Gideon asked in concern.

“I’m fine, I was just looking at the rocks under the ground.”

Gideon eyebrows arched and Julia laughed. He hadn’t expected something so strange. “You said the soil is poor and water scarce. I thought I would have a look. There’s plenty of water down there, but the rock prevents the digging of a well.”

“Precisely,” Gideon said relieved that she was making sense again.

“I don’t know how to dig wells, but Mathius could do it I’m sure.”

“No need,” Keverin said. “No one lives here and I doubt any will in the near future. Land like this is abundant in Deva. Luckily, land like my own is also.”

Julia was just as happy to leave it at that. She hadn’t seriously wanted to dig the well, but it would have been interesting to make something with her magic rather than destroying things all the time.

They stopped at midday to water the horses at a small stream and used the opportunity to stretch tired legs and have a bite to eat. Julia thought the trip very civilised. She had all the amenities—not baths of course but you can’t have everything. As she ate her bread and cheese on a proper plate with a wine cup at hand, she mused it was more like a camping holiday than an important mission to select a king.

“Here, have a look at these,” Jihan said proffering a leather case.

“So these are the letters Delin was talking about,” Julia said putting aside her plate and taking the case and opening it. Inside were scrolls—lots of scrolls.

“My father always kept his letters so he could refer to them at need. These will be of help to us I think.”

Julia nodded absently as she scanned the contents of the satchel. She remembered Mathius saying there were forty lords of Deva, but then Jessica had said sixty earlier.

“How many lords are there Jihan?”

Jihan slid his sword from his sash so he might sit on the ground next to her. He lay the weapon within easy reach, and leaning on one hand, he began to explain.

“There were forty to begin with, but over the centuries some lines have died out and others grown to take their places. There are over sixty now. They are equals in theory, but as always some are more equal than others. If you follow me?”

“I understand. The Lord Protectors are the strongest. Is that right?”

“That’s right, but there are only four of us. The rest are weak in comparison to be sure, but banded together they represent a strong block for the voting.”

“What of your father’s friends here?” Julia said indicating the letters.

Jihan made a face. “Traitors the lot of them. They’re not as bad as Athlone was—he instigated the thing, but they did go along with him and pledged their support as the letters show.”

“Do you think the threat of making these public will be enough to bring them to our side?”

“Who can say? I do know these men were chosen by my father for specific reasons. Some are powerful, but most are not.”

That was a puzzle. If she had been the one to choose conspirators, she would have chosen powerful men with large forces of guardsmen at their disposal. Lord Protectors were ideal, but they were all honourable men who would have challenged and killed Athlone had he tried to recruit them.

“Why choose weak allies? That doesn’t make a great deal of sense, Jihan.”

“Some of them are powerful, while others have certain things my father thought necessary.”

“Like what?”

“Strategic location for one,” he said off hand.

“You make it sound like a war!”

“It would have been war,” he agreed. “Keverin and the other Lord Protectors wouldn’t have stood by and allowed my father to usurp the throne. A good many of the other lords would have fought against him as well.”

“And many
for
him if these letters are anything to go by,” Julia said flicking through the sheets.

“Exactly. Civil war would have resulted. I believe my father would have won in the end. He chose his allies well in my opinion. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

Jihan hated Athlone more than any other thing. For him to praise his father for anything said to Julia that the men who wrote these letters were strong allies of Athlone and therefore dangerous. There were many kinds of strength. Guardsmen were just the most obvious.

“May I keep these for a time? If it’s all right with you I want to read through them properly and show them to Kev.”

“Certainly,” Jihan said waving the letters away. “After all this is over I was going to burn them in any case. I wish I could challenge each one of these men, but even I might have trouble against so many.”

Julia grinned. Jihan thought a great deal of himself where his fighting skill was concerned, but that was understandable. He was the best with any weapon she could name including a good many she couldn’t. Keverin was in awe of Jihan’s speed and skill.

Keverin came by not long after saying it was time to move on. Julia decided to wait until they stopped for the night to show the letters to him.

They journeyed on and the day passed. There was one moment of excitement as the afternoon turned to evening when Burke’s horse appeared to go lame on its right hind foot. It turned out to be a loose shoe and was fixed by Burke himself. Most people knew a little of the farriers art—enough to get by at least. Keverin said a smith could pronounce the job sound at the next town—at Kirstal. That evening, Julia made a point of claiming Keverin early so she might show him the letters. Jihan and Ahnao were walking together around the camp and she refrained from interrupting them. So it was that she and Keverin were alone by one of the fires as he read one after another of the letters.

Keverin looked up from his reading. “It’s the stupidity that never fails to amaze me. How they thought they could make a treaty with Mortain I will never know.”

“Jihan said civil war would have resulted had this plan gone ahead.”

“Not much doubt of that. I would certainly have fought against this madness. I’m sure all honourable men would have done the same.”

Julia nodded, but she was wondering just how many lords could be called honourable anymore. “Who will you vote for?”

Keverin replaced the letters in the satchel. “Halden would have been my first choice. He’s well respected. Even his enemies, such as they are, acknowledge him as scrupulously honest.”

“You said you
would
have chosen him. What’s wrong with him then?”

“He’s old, Julia, over seventy I think. We need someone with energy and time to set Deva to rights, not someone likely to be in his grave five years from now.”

Julia hadn’t thought about the time aspect. Life ran at a much slower pace here. The King couldn’t pick up the phone and order somebody to do something. He needed to send messengers, which took days to travel anywhere. Deva would take years to get back onto its feet. Gylaren was older than Kev, but not as old as Halden. She wasn’t sure how old Gylaren was.

“What would you say to Gylaren as King?”

Keverin raised a brow in speculation. “I would say he’d make a very fine King, but Gy’s not young either.”

“He does have three boys. Surely they would help, and anyway, Gylaren is vigorous as a bull.”

“Gy won’t like it, but if he agrees I’ll vote for him. He
is
better than all the others and Dylan takes after him.”

“Dylan is Gy’s eldest isn’t he?”

Keverin nodded. “Niklaus will have to take Meilan, but I don’t see a problem with that.”

Julia nodded pleased at the decision. All she had to do now was persuade Gy to take the throne and Deva’s problems would be solved!

Kirstal hadn’t been anywhere near this bad, Julia thought as she rode into Hringham. Hringham was the last major town before they reached the capital, which was still days away at the plodding pace they had maintained thus far. There were children lining the road. Julia watched them silently watching her and wanted to kill someone. They were starving and obviously frightened of nobles. They stood silently watching and hoping for a scrap or two of food. Keverin was looking around in shock. Julia knew how he felt, but Keverin was having a harder time of it than she was. Television broadcasts of famine and starvation—though not at all like the real thing—had prepared her for the sight. Keverin on the other hand had never even
conceived
that this could happen in Deva.

“Haaalt!” Keverin called to the column. “Dismount!”

“—mount!”


Disssss
-mount!”

The orders echoed into silence as Julia jumped down. Keverin quickly reached up and helped Jessica to the ground. Mathius was rummaging in his pack, and Julia belatedly did the same. She didn’t have much in her travel pack, but it would do until they could get to the baggage wagons and the food they carried.

With fists full of bread and cheese, Julia approached the children, but they backed away. “Don’t be afraid. Here, this is for you,” she said keeping her voice low and trying to coax one of them toward her.

A girl snatched a piece of bread and ate it so fast that Julia’s blink almost missed it. As soon as the others saw it, they ran forward. Julia staggered as dozens of children slammed into her. They were fighting over her cheese. She gave what she had, but they weren’t satisfied and they began hitting each other—fighting over a morsel of bread.

“No don’t… don’t do that!” Julia cried trying to fend off the fists with her arms while keeping her hold upon the girl. “There’s more in the wagons! Don’t hit her!”

Julia dragged the girl clear of the fighting. She was bleeding and seemed dazed. A hand snatched Julia’s travel pouch out of her hands. She let it go, but another fist was tangled in her hair. Enough was enough. She grasped her magic.

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