Ordermaster (33 page)

   
"He said that was fine, just so the millmen kept their places." Speltar grinned. "When I told him about the new cots, he asked if we'd consider tossing in a few golds so he could add a room and fix his roof. I said I would ask you."

   
"He seems honest. I'd think so, unless you have a reason not to grant his request."

"I'd grant his request, ser, and add a gold for furnishings."

   
"Then do so." Kharl paused. "What about you? Have you ever received a bonus for all your work?"

   
"I have the house, ser, and it's far grander than what most stewards ever see."

   
"That may be, but when I compare what the new forest shows and what Cantyl shows ..."

"I have been fortunate, ser."

Kharl snorted. "Do you find a ten-gold bonus fair?"

Speltar swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his thin throat.

"Let's make it fifteen."

Speltar bowed. "Thank you. I have never ... you are most generous."

   
Kharl could sense the truth of his words. "I cannot be so generous with all, but as part of your duties, I would request that you recommend a small bonus for those on the lands who deserve it. We would pay it after harvest."

"Lord Koroh did so, but that was before my time."

"Do you think it is a bad idea?"

"No, ser. The lands were most productive under Lord Koroh."

  
 
"Or his steward," Kharl suggested dryly. "Was the steward from your family?"

   
"No, ser. Lord Estloch brought me here fifteen years ago. I was the assistant to the steward at Dykaru."

   
"How did Lord Estloch end up with the lands? I'd heard that Lord Julon ..." Kharl left the sentence unfinished.

   
"Lord Julon spent far too many golds on his horses, and upon pleasures in Valmurl. He owed over a thousand golds, it was said, and none of the lenders in Valmurl would advance him more golds. Then, when he was murdered, his lands reverted to Lord Estloch because his consort and heirs could not pay off the debts. Lord Estloch settled the debts and set me here." Speltar shrugged, as if his words explained everything.

"What happened to his consort?"

   
"She was most beautiful, and she became the second consort of Lord Malcor." Speltar smiled sadly. "She died ten years later, of a mysterious illness, and he consorted a third time. She had but two daughters by Lord Julon, and no children by Lord Malcor."

   
Was everyone in Austra tied to everything, or was that just the way of the noble families everywhere? Kharl suspected the latter.

Speltar cleared his throat. "If you don't need anything else, ser ..."

   
"Go do what you need to, Speltar." Kharl grinned. "You know where to find me."

The steward bowed slightly. "Yes, ser."

   
After Speltar had left, Kharl went to the racks on the left at the rear of his new cooperage, somewhat smaller than the space he had had in Brysta but more than adequate for his present needs.

   
After several moments, he pulled down enough white oak billets for several standard barrels. He'd try tight cooperage, this time. He was smiling as he set the billets on the bench next to the planer.

XXXIX

JXharl had just finished trimming the chime on a white oak barrel and was blotting his forehead when he noticed Speltar standing in the doorway to the cooperage, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Lord Kharl?"

   
"Come in, Speltar. It's a cooperage, not a bedchamber or a study. When I'm working here, just come inside. I may have to finish something, but there's no reason for you to stand outside."

   
As he stepped into the cooperage, Speltar lifted a square of heavy paper with a florid purple wax seal on one edge. "I have a missive from ser Arynal. His man is waiting for a response."

   
A response? "What do you know of Arynal?" Kharl had run across the name, but he didn't know where. He was fairly sure that Arynal had not been among the collaborators with the rebels, but he couldn't recall why he would have known a lord's name.

"He holds the lands to the north and west of yours, ser . .."

   
That was where Kharl had seen the name, on the maps that Speltar had gone over with him almost a season earlier.

"... He is a minor lord, most properly."

"Like me?"

   
"Ah.. . ser. If I read the proclamation correctly, you are a lord of the upper level."

"Proclamation?" Kharl hadn't even realized that there was such.

   
"Oh, yes, ser. I thought you knew. A lord or a grant must be proclaimed. I thought you had sent the proclamations to me. I have both the

proclamation of your title as a lower lord-that was when you received Cantyl-and the one at the end of spring when you were elevated to an upper lord and received the new forest."

   
"Hmmm .. ." Kharl recalled Lord Ghrant saying something about an upper lord, but he had paid more attention to the grant of the lands. Then, abruptly, he recalled Ghrant and several others addressing him as Lord Kharl. He'd passed that off as a compliment, but he should have known that Ghrant would not have addressed him as such through courtesy. Again... it showed what he didn't know and the subtleties of lordship. The deliberate use of the term lord by Lord Ghrant would have been so obvious to any lord, lower or upper, and Kharl hadn't even noticed what it had meant. "What's the advantage of being an upper lord? Is there one?"

   
"Well. .. ser ... if you do something wrong, like murder, they have to behead you, rather than hang you." A faint smile crossed the steward's face.

Kharl laughed. "Is that all?"

"You have the right to administer low justice on your lands."

"For minor things, like theft?"

"If the theft is less than ten golds."

That wasn't such a small amount, Kharl reflected.

   
"And you have to supply services or armsmen to the Lord of Austra." Speltar's smile turned wry. "At times, in the past, the Lord of Austra has elevated lords to the upper level only to require armsmen that the lord could not support."

Kharl could see someone like Lord West doing that.

   
"In your case, that would not be a problem, I would judge," Speltar added.

   
"Not any more of a problem than it already is." Kharl gestured toward the missive. "I suppose I should read the letter."

The steward extended it.

   
Kharl took it and broke the seal, carefully. He didn't want purple wax on his new flag floor. The note within was short, if written in an elegant hand that was not Arynal's, since the signature differed from the text.

Lord Kharl,

With the deepest respect, and begging your indulgence, I would like to call upon you late this afternoon to pay my respects to you.

I have not wished to impose upon you, but as your nearest neighbor thought that I should present myself and offer what information you might find useful.

Kharl looked up. "Does he expect supper?"

"That, or afternoon refreshments, would be in order."

"Am I expected to invite his family?"

"His consort would be acceptable." Speltar smiled.

"What you are telling me is that I should invite everyone. How many?"

   
"He has two consortable daughters, and a son who has already been consorted."

Kharl took a deep breath. "Can Adelya handle that?"

"She would be upset, ser, if you thought otherwise."

   
"Would you write a response that says that I would be happy to have them all for supper this evening? And tell Adelya to prepare as she sees fit." Kharl shook his head. He could sense Speltar's concealed laughter at the resignation in Kharl's voice.

"She will be pleased that you've chosen to entertain, ser."

"And you?"

"It is always beneficial to be on good terms with neighbors."

Speltar's words, once more, were dry.

   
"Are you telling me that Lord Julon was not always on the best of terms?"

   
"I would not know, not for certain, ser. There are stories, but one never can tell how true they might be, and I would not be the one to pass them on."

   
Kharl laughed. "I have my answer. You are most astute, and most tactful, Speltar."

   
Speltar did grin, if but for the briefest of moments. "And you, Lord Kharl, see more than most lords."

   
To Kharl that was a frightening thought, because Speltar meant it. Kharl knew how much he missed. He'd even missed his own elevation. Part of that was because of his unfamiliarity with Austra, and part was because he hadn't paid enough attention. "I fear for them, then." He glanced around the cooperage, then toward the open doorway where the midmorning sun cast an oblong of light across the stone floor. "If you would write what is necessary and bring me a pen? Your writing will be far better than mine."

"I can do that." Speltar nodded slightly, then stepped away.

   
Kharl wanted to shake his head. He supposed he was fortunate to have few neighbors, or his lack of understanding of both lordly and Austran customs would have become much more apparent far earlier. He glanced around the cooperage. He could still get in most of a day's work before bathing and changing into his magely finery, although he doubted it was as fine as whatever ser Arynal and his family might be wearing.

   
Then, he cautioned himself, Arynal and his consort might well be people he'd like. Certainly, Kharl had liked Hagen from the beginning. He'd just have to see about Arynal.

XL

1 wo glasses before sunset, roughly, and barely after Kharl had bathed and finished dressing, young Bannat had run up to the main house to announce that ser Arynal's coach was less than a kay away.

   
Kharl hurried from his study back to the kitchen. "They're about a kay away, Adelya."

   
"I know, Lord Kharl. Bannat told Heldya. You just greet your guests, and we will have everything in readiness, ser."

Kharl couldn't help but grin. "That's all you've left for me to do."

"That is as it should be."

   
In the corner, Heldya, barely eleven and dressed in gray trousers and tunic, nodded solemnly, not looking up from the crystal wine goblets she was polishing a last time.

   
Kharl shook his head, ruefully, then left the kitchen and walked through the sitting room and past the serving table laid out with refreshments for the time before supper. From there he made his way out through the foyer and onto the wide porch, from where he could look at both the harbor and the narrow road that wound to the south of the barns before turning westward and past the mill, then crossing the stream and eventually joining the inner coast road to Valmurl.

   
The dust of the coach was visible before the four-horse team itself appeared coming down the gentle slope to the millrace bridge. As the coach neared the main house, Kharl walked out the flagstone walk from

the front porch, then waited as the driver pulled up where the walk ended at the lane. The coach was older, painted in light and dark gray, bearing more than a few scrapes and worn places on the bodywork. The grizzled coachman wore a faded burgundy jacket and brown trousers. His boots were scuffed.

   
An older man, with black hair greased back from the temples of his thin face, opened the coach door and stepped out, pulling the mounting stool from its bracket and setting it beneath the door. Then he straightened, smoothed his burgundy velvet jacket, and looked at Kharl. "You must be Lord Kharl, from all that black. I'm Arynal."

"I'm Kharl. Welcome to Cantyl."

   
"I'd forgotten how long the drive was. Two solid glasses." Arynal turned and extended a hand to a long-faced but stout woman with striking gray-and-black hair. "My consort, Jacelyna. This is Lord Kharl, my dear."

   
"You met us, yourself, Lord Kharl," replied Jacelyna, in a thin and high voice. "How charming."

"Who else would meet guests?"
  
' -

"A doorman or a retainer," suggested Jacelyna.

"I have very few retainers, Lady," replied Kharl.
          
'

   
"Lord Kharl has had these lands for but half a year, dear," interjected Arynal, "and he has spent most of that time serving with Lord Ghrant." The thin-faced lord turned to the younger women who had left the coach. "My daughters Norelle and Meyena. Norelle is the elder, but only by two years."