.,name “Vo Erat” ain’t all that pleasin’ t’ th’ ear.’
‘Let me think my way through this before we make any quick
decisions, Killane,’ I suggested. ‘I’m not entirely sure that I want a
capital.
Tis a cruel woman y’ are, Lady-O,’ he accused.
‘I didn’t exactly follow that.’
‘This’d be me one chance t’ design and build an entire city, don’t
y” know, an’ now y’ve gone an’ dashed me hopes. I could build Y’
a palace that’d make th’ emperor of Tolnedra turn green w’ envy.’
‘What on earth do I need with a palace? I know who I am, and I
don’t need some grand display to remind me. But that’s beside the
point. My main concerns are still down in Arendia proper. Those
clever little boys who put me here might prefer to have me get so
involved in things up here that I’ll lose track of what they’re doing,
but that isn’t going to happen. I’m definitely going to keep my house
in Vo Wacune. I want them all to realize that they’re not going to
get out from under my thumb this easily. Let’s move on, Killane. I
want to have a look at Erat before I decide just where to set up
shop.
Erat, as it turned out, was totally unsuitable for a seat of
government. North central Sendaria had changed hands so many times
over the centuries that the place was a hodge-podge of run-down
and conflicting architecture. The whole thing would have had to be
leveled and rebuilt to make it at all acceptable. The problem with
that, however, lay in the fact that it was situated on the marshy
north shore of the lake, and no matter what was ultimately erected
there, it was still going to look like some town in the Drasnian fens.
once again I took wing and scouted things from the air. The spot
that ultimately caught my eye was located on the south side of the
lake where a fair-sized river fed that body of water. It was a long,
lushly green meadow that sloped down to the lake-shore with the
river bordering it to the south. The river bank was lined with ancient
white birch trees, and steep, wooded, dark green hills embraced
the meadow on the other two sides. The snow-capped Sendarian
mountains rose above those wooded hills to the east. There were
no villages nor roads in the vicinity, and so everything was fresh
and new, awaiting only my hand to make it perfect. I could view
the sunrise over the mountains and the sunset over the lake. I
immediately fell in love with it.
The spot was perhaps six leagues northwest of the village of
Upper Gralt, and about ten leagues northeast of where the farm of
a good-hearted man named Faldor is now located.
Garion should be quite familiar with the region, since he grew up
there.
Killane studied the location I’d chosen, trying to find something
wrong with it, I think, but he finally gave in. ‘Tis adequate,’ he
grudgingly conceded. ‘An’ as luck would have it, ’tis on one of yer
Own estates, so there’ll be no hagglin’ about buyin’ th’ place.’
‘Adequate?’ I protested.
‘Well – perhaps a trifle more than adequate, I suppose. I’ll be after
lmakin’ a few sketches, if we’ve got th’ time. I see about three
locations where Y’ might want me t’ build yer manor house. If we’ve
got good sketches, we kin spend th’ winter arguin’ about ’em when
we git back t’ Vo Wacune.’
I’d already more or less decided where I wanted my house, but
I didn’t want to seem arbitrary, so I let Killane amuse himself with
his sketch-pad while I explored the surrounding meadow and
forests.
It was late autumn by the time we returned to Vo Wacune, and
by then my vassals had all responded to Alleran’s summons and
had been impatiently waiting for me in the palace for over a month.
‘They aren’t happy, Aunt Pol,’ Alleran warned me. ‘Their families
have been sworn to mine for generations now, and I’m giving them
away like so many old saddles or suits of clothes. You might want
to ease into this gradually.’
‘Maybe,’ I replied, ‘but there are going to be changes up there,
Alleran – fairly major changes – so I’m not really going to be very
popular anyway. My vassals are Arends, so I’m sure that they’re
all mortally offended by the fact that their new ruler’s a woman.
There isn’t much point to pretending to be all sweetness and light,
is there?’
‘It’s your duchy, Aunt Pol. You can run it any Way that suits you.
When should we have the ceremony?’
‘Which ceremony was that?’
‘Each of them has to swear an oath of fealty to you after I’ve
released them from their oaths to me.’
‘A transfer of ownership, you mean?’
‘That’s a very harsh way to put it, Aunt Pol.’ He considered it.
‘Fairly accurate, though,’ he added. ‘We’ll do it in my throne-room
– if that’s all right with you. After the ceremony, I’ll nose about
a bit to see if you’re going to need an army to put down any
rebellions.’
‘You’re just full of cheer today, aren’t you, Alleran?’ I said acidly.
The ceremony in the throne-room was a formality, of course,
but Arends adore formality, so that part went off quite well. I sat
imposingly on Alleran’s throne, crowned, ermine-robed, and
absolutely dripping regality. After my vassals had all pledged to protect,
serve, and defend me with their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred
honor, I gave them a little speech just to brighten up their day. I
discarded all the archaisms and got right to the point. ‘Now that
we’re all one big happy family, my Lords,’ I began, ‘we’ve got a
few new rules to put in place. You’ve customarily paid Duke Alleran
a certain tithe for the honor of serving him and administering the
estates he’s bestowed upon you. Now, Duke Alleran’s far from being
a spendthrift, but it seems to me that those tithes might be just a
bit excessive. I don’t think I’ll really need all that much money, so
why don’t we just cut those tithes in half for a few years and see
how that works out, shall we?’
My vassals cheered me for about a quarter of an hour for that bit
of generosity. Some of them actually wept. They were Arends, after
all.
When silence returned, I continued. ‘Now then, since you won’t
be needing so much money to pay your rent, why don’t we improve
the lot of your serfs as well? I’ve cut your tithes in half, so you’ll
show your gratitude by cutting the amount of goods – and services
– You’ve been extracting from your serfs by the same amount. You
compel your serfs to work your land, and then you turn around
and take at least half of what their own fields produce. From now
on, you’ll limit yourselves to one quarter of their labor, and you’ll
leave what they grow to feed their families alone.’
‘What?’ a stout, red-faced baron – Lageron, I think his name was
– almost screamed.
‘Are you having trouble with your hearing, my Lord?’ I asked
him. ‘I said one quarter of his labor and none of his own food. A
starving man can’t work very well, you know.’
One of the other barons nudged Lageron and muttered in his ear.
Lageron’s expression of outrage softened, and his look grew sly. I
was fairly certain that my barons planned to ignore the new
restrictions.
‘Just so that we all understand each other here, gentlemen,’ I told
them, ‘I’m sure you’ve all heard wild stories about me.’ I smiled.
‘Nobody really believes all those fairy-tales, do they?’
They laughed at that. Then I let the smile slide off my face and
put on a fair imitation of one of those expressions my father uses
to intimidate people. ‘You’d all better start believing, my Lords,’ I
warned them. ‘No matter how wild the stories you’ve heard may
be, you’ll find that the reality is far, far worse. Don’t think for a
minute that you can ignore the limitations I’ve just placed on what
you can bleed out of your serfs. I have ways to know just exactly
what you’re doing, and if any one of you exceeds the limitations
by so much as one turnip, I’ll look upon that as a violation of the
oath you’ve just sworn, and I’ll turn him out of his manor house
with nothing but the clothes on his back, and his estate shall revert
to me. My eyes are everywhere, my Lords, and you will obey me
or take up a life of landless vagabondage.’
I let that sink in for a moment, and then I once again returned to
a tone of sweet reasonableness. ‘A change of administration always
causes a certain amount of disruption and upheaval, my Lords.