Part 54 (1/2)
”How do you think Ehara would react if we sent a scroll to him, requesting his pledge, on his honor, not to interfere with Defalk?”
Jecks laughed. ”Why...he would send a scroll pledging the very same, almost on the gla.s.s, and nothing would change.”
Anna felt stupid. She wasn't thinking as clearly as she should, perhaps because of the residual headache- or because ruling wasn't yet a habit with her. ”What if we asked for five hundred golds in recompense for the damage he caused, and his pledge never to send coins or armsmen into Defalk?”
”You might get his pledge, but never his golds.”
”Then, we'll draft a scroll which basically demands his pledge and the golds, and which states, given his past behavior, that a pledge without golds is without meaning or honor.”
”He will not take such well.”
”No...he may not, but I don't see much point in ignoring him. We've seen his lancers everywhere, and he ought to pay. If he won't, he ought to be put on notice.”
”You would fight Dumar?”
”We've already been fighting Dumar. Ehara had no real cause to support the rebels, unless he was already planning a war, or to make trouble for us. Either way, it has to stop.”
'Then, you should send such a scroll.”
Anna could tell Jecks was less than pleased, but she knew that she had to do something to deal with the Lord of Dumar.
By the time she had given Jecks the second draft of the scoll to read, from outside, a golden red poured through the narrow windows.
”Lord, I didn't realize it was that late.” Anna glanced at the piles of scrolls in dismay.
”There is always tomorrow.”
”And tomorrow, creeping on its petty pace, until the last syllable of recorded time,” Anna misquoted.
Jecks paused in lifting his goblet, then drank.
Thrap!
”Yes?” answered Jecks.
Rickel peered inside the room. ”The lady Wendella, tosee Lady Anna and Lord Jecks.”
Almost makes you sound like a couple. Anna coughed, trying to push away that thought. ”Have her come in.”
Wearing a natural cotton gown that left her looking too washed-out, Wendella carried Condell into Anna's chamber. ”Lady and regent.” She bowed, her face composed.
”Lady Wendella.”
”I have come to offer my apologies and to beg of you pardon.” Wendella' s eyes remained downcast.
”You do not have to answer me, but could I ask why?” Anna inquired.
”I do not like you, Lady Anna. It may be that never I will. You have been fair, for what your duties require. You have not been petty nor spiteful.” Wendella -coughed. ”I have found that your first act, on entering Stromwer, was to restore my son and my station. You have not taken my rooms, nor the study, and the treasury has not been touched.”
”I will require some of that,” Anna said. 'Enough to pay for my armsmen. I will leave what you need to run Stromwer and for the liedgeld. I wish I could do otherwise...but the past has left Falcor with little.”
'It is said that you, as Lady of Mencha. have paid liedgeld. Is that true?” The words were direct.
”Yes.”
Wendella nodded. ”1 do not like you. I freely grant you my respect and my thanks for my son and my station. And I will write Lord Mietchel telling him so.”
”That would be good for us all,” Anna said. ”I will be equally frank. I respect you for what you have endured. I respect your strength, and I am sorry for your suffering.
I suspect we will never be close friends.” And that's an understatement. ''I will help, as I can, to ensure that Stromwer is strong and respected.”
Wendella bowed. ”I...can...say no more.” Her eyes went to the sleeping Condell.
”You don't have to,” Anna said gently. ”I am glad you came. I hope you will rest and recover, and take care of Stromwer and your son.” She stood, as did Jecks.
The two waited until the door closed behind Wendella.
”I said that she would respect you.”
Anna still wondered how much was compelled by her spells. Still, it was better than slaughtering an entire keep. You've done that, too. She reached for the wine and took another swallow. Then came the last scroll in Dythya's to-do pile.
She groaned. ”The rivermen are asking that we forgo the tariffs on cargos down the Falche, since this is the first year in the last four that the river has been high enough for their boats. They need every copper to survive.”
”So do you,” answered Jecks. ”So does Defalk.” Anna hated taxes, and she hated being the local equiv- alent of both government and the IRS. But how could she keep the country together without revenues to pay armsmen and smiths and everything else?
After a sigh, she took another sip of wine, then reached for more paper.
Thrap!
''A young fellow to see you.” This time it was Fhurgen who peered inside the chamber with a wide grin.
”A young fellow?”
”From Abenfel.”
”Birke?”
The dark-bearded guard just offered a wider grin.
”Have him come in.” Birke? The red-haired son of Lord Birfels who'd been her first page when she had come to Falcor? Who'd effectively been a hostage both of Barjim and then of Behlem?
Wearing a green tunic piped in gray, the red-haired youth stepped into the chamber and bowed deeply.
”Lady Anna, at your service.” A cheerful smile followed the words.
''Birke! It's good to see you.” Anna paused. ”Why are you here?”