Two Heirs (The Marmoros Trilogy Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: Two Heirs (The Marmoros Trilogy Book 1)
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As Baltur disappeared into the crowd, two members of the council pushed their way forward, each with a young boy clinging to their waists. Jeren recognised Lords Wynter and Foxley as friends of his father.

“Thank you, young Jeren,” Wynter said. “Although I suppose it should be Lord Jeren now.”

“Yes thank you,” echoed Foxley. “But what are you doing with these men here? I recognise some of them as the thieves who stole our supplies and kidnapped your mother.”

“They’re on our side now,” Jeren said quickly. “They were working for my mother to rescue the boys and now they’re working for me. And the first thing we have to do is pay them. The deal my mother made with them, was one silver talon from each family who had a boy returned alive.”

The two men looked in surprise at Falaise.

“On whose authority did you make such an arrangement, Falaise?” Wynter asked.

“On my own authority, my lords. I did what was necessary; what had to be done. Gaelan was too full of his own scheme to raise money to go and buy the boys back. He left here with a bag of money, a sack full of silverware that he had begged from the families and he returned with neither; on foot without even his horses and with only Raslo to show for it. How has he explained that, my lords?”

“He said that they were attacked and robbed by Duke Henry’s men but that in the confusion, Raslo and some of the other boys managed to escape. The other boys were all re-captured but Raslo hid and got away.”

“He is a liar, my lords,” Jeren said. “He is a liar and a traitor to his people. As we have been speaking, Gaelan has been arrested and charged with treason and the attempted murder of my lady mother. Other charges will follow.”

Jeren looked for confirmation to David, who nodded in agreement. “I need to know that you will support me in the council, my lords,” he continued.

The two men, Wynter and Foxley, stared at Jeren in astonishment. “You have proof of this,
Lord Jeren? These are very serious charges. You need to be very, very certain of what you are doing here.”

“I have evidence and I have witnesses, my lords. I can prove everything I have said and more.”

“Then you will have my support in the council,” Wynter said. “Bardsley, of course is Gaelan’s man; he will oppose you. And Perborn and Litestone are fence-sitters. They are the ones you will have to convince.”

“If you can prove what you say, then you will have my support also,” Foxley added. “But who will chair the council now?”

“My father, on his deathbed, appointed Lady Falaise to be Regent. She will chair the council.”

Falaise looked at him in surprise at this pronouncement.

“But that cannot be, Lord Jeren. The council has already rejected Lady Falaise as Regent.”

“The council had no authority to go against my father’s dying wish. That is just part of Gaelan’s manipulation.”

“But with all due respect to the Lady Falaise, she is a woman. And no woman has ever sat on the council, let alone chaired it.”

“Observant of you to spot the gender difference,” Falaise broke in. “But where in the laws does it say that a woman cannot sit on the council.”

“Uh… yes well,” Foxley said hesitantly, “I’m not sure that the laws state anything explicitly about that but it has never happened before.”

“Well it is happening now,” Jeren stated. “So the council is going to have to get used to it.”

“There will be opposition to this, Lord Jeren. I’m not sure that Perborn and Litestone will support you on this.”

Jeren looked at David again. “Oh I don’t know,” he said. “I think with members of my personal bodyguard standing behind their chairs… I think they may be persuaded.”

***

They set up a trestle table in the square outside Falaise’s wagon and Jeren sat Evan at the table with the strongbox at his feet and his ledger open in front of him. People were reluctant to come forward at first, recognising Evan as the Duke’s tax collector and unsure of what was going on.

“Why do we have to pay these bastards anything?” one large florid faced man demanded. “They’re the ones who took our boys in the first place.

“No they’re not,” Jeren replied. “The boys were taken by Duke Henry.”

“Well, he was one of them,” he said pointing at Evan.

“Yes he was,” Jeren agreed. “But he doesn’t work for the Duke any longer. This is the man you are paying,” he said, indicating David standing behind the table. “He and his men fought to rescue your boy and all the others. One of Lord Held’s men was killed and another has lost an arm. That is why we owe them a debt.”

“How do we know they weren’t all in it together? That this isn’t all a scam?”

Jeren kept his voice calm. “Because I was there, Abbott. I saw what happened and I am proud to say that I fought alongside Lord Held to rescue your son and the others. Where were you during the battle, Abbott? What did you do to bring your boy back?”

A small mousy woman who had been standing by the man’s side, now slapped him hard across the arm. “Abbott, you are a brainless oaf. My mother told me I should never have married you. Now pay the man before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.”

There were chuckles from the crowd around them as Abbott slammed a coin down on the table with a scowl and turned to go.

“Wait a minute, Abbott,” Jeren said with a smile. “Did you give Lord Gaelan any silver to help buy your boy back?”

“I did. It was a silver candlestick.”

Jeren had set up a second table to the side and on that he emptied the sack of silverware that Gaelan had collected. Then he raised his voice to address the whole crowd. “I’m afraid we have no record of who gave which piece of silver but, when you come up to pay, if you recognise your own piece, you may take it back with you.”

There were fewer grumbles then as most families were so delighted to get both their boys and their silver back that they paid up happily. Evan entered the names of the families in the ledger along with the names of the boys. At the very end of the line, a tall striking looking woman approached the table with a small boy at her side and a look of extreme worry on her face. In her prime she had obviously been a beauty but her face now was careworn and her hair was starting to turn prematurely grey.

“My lord,” she spoke to Jeren, “I cannot tell you how grateful I am for the safe return of Matt.” She hugged the boy close to her. “Since Jeb died, he is all I have. But I have no coin to pay for him, my lord. Not even a copper
groat.”

Jeren looked at David, uncertain as to what to say for the first time that day. Falaise stepped forward to whisper in David’s ear. “This is the widow Tersen, David. Her husband died earlier this year just before the spring planting and she has struggled to grow enough food to feed herself and Matt. If she says she has no coin left, I’m afraid it is probably true.”

Before David could speak, there was a disturbance in the crowd and three men forced their way to the front. The leader was dressed in a rich doublet and hose with a sword buckled to his waist and a look of fury on his face. He roughly shouldered the widow Tersen out of the way and she would have fallen if David had not stepped forward quickly to steady her.

The man slammed a large fist down on the table with such force that the ink pot spilled and Evan hastily grabbed a cloth to mop it up. “What is going on here?” he demanded. “Why are you collecting more taxes from these people? And where is Lord Gaelan?”

“Lord Bardsley,” Jeren began, “these men are not collecting taxes, they….”

“You stay out of this, boy. This is none of your business. This is council business and we will deal with it.”

“You forget yourself, Bardsley,” Falaise intervened. “Lord Jeren is his father’s heir and is entitled to your respect.”

“I forget nothing, woman. You are nothing but a money grabbing whore who besotted the old fool, Brantyen and that brat is probably not even his.”

With a cry of anger, Jeren drew his sword and would have lunged straight at Bardsley’s chest if David had not knocked the sword aside. He recovered his balance and spun round to see Bardsley standing very still, with his chin tilted upwards and David’s katana across his throat.

“Bardsley, is it?” David cautioned. “You seem over fond of the sound of your own voice and you have a very foul mouth. Perhaps I should cut you a second one here, just below your chin, in the hope that it might be cleaner.

“Now you will apologise to Lord Jeren here and to his lady mother and maybe, just maybe, Lord Jeren might be persuaded to sheath his sword in his scabbard rather than in your guts.”

“I apologise,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, no. You really will have to do much better than that. You will humbly apologise, you will beg their forgiveness and you will sound as though you mean it.”

Beads of sweat were forming on his brow as he tried again. “I do humbly apologise, Lady Falaise and to you
Lord
Jeren and I ask forgiveness from you both.”

“That’s better,” David declared, lowering the katana and sheathing it in one smooth motion.
There was a thin line of red across Bardsley’s throat and a single drop of blood trickled down from one end. “Now as you had no son to be returned to you, I think that you have no further business here. Oh, and in answer to your final question, Lord Gaelan has been arrested and charged with treason. His trial will take place this afternoon before the council and the assembled village. If you wish to retain your seat on the council, I suggest that you be there.”

“This is outrageous. Lord Gaelan cannot be accused of treason. He is the Regent.”

“No, Lady Falaise is the Regent in accordance with the wishes of her dying husband.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s a woman.”

“No, no. We’re not going through all that again. Lord Brantyen appointed Lady Falaise to be Regent. Lord Jeren has stated that he wishes his mother to act as Regent and I stand behind Lord Jeren. She is the Regent.”

Bardsley looked furious but obviously decided he had no option but to accept the status quo for now. “Who has laid this false charge against Lord Gaelan?”

“I accuse Lord Gaelan of treason,”
Jeren said. “I accuse him of the attempted murder of my mother, Lady Falaise and I accuse him of theft and deceiving our people in his false negotiations for the release of the boys.”

“Ha, well that’s an end to it then. “You,” he said, pointing at Jeren, “cannot bring these charges against Lord Gaelan. A charge of treason can only be brought by an adult member of our people, which you are not. I demand Lord Gaelan’s immediate release,” he finished triumphantly.

“I also accuse Lord Gaelan of treason,” came a voice that carried over the murmurings of the crowd.

The crowd parted and Aron strode forward and turned to face the crowd. “I accuse Lord Gaelan of treason and of being a rank traitor to his people. I further accuse him of selling my sons,
my sons
, to Duke Henry in order to obtain the release of his own boy.”

Bardsley looked around him for support but the murmurings of the crowd were turning distinctly hostile and his two companions were looking nervous. “This isn’t over,” he snarled. “We’ll see who’s lying this afternoon. Come on,” he said to the other two.

“No, not you two. You will stay for a minute please.”

Bardsley turned in surprise but two of David’s men were blocking the other men’s path and the crowd closed around him and started forcing him to the rear. Snarling with anger, he spun on his heel and stalked away.

“Right my lords,” David said. “I’m guessing that one of you is Lord Perborn and the other is Lord Litestone. Which of you is which?”

Jeren appeared at his shoulder. “Lord Held, allow me to present Lord Perborn.” The shorter of the two made a stiff bow. “And Lord Litestone.” The other inclined his head.”

“My lords, we would not wish to get off on the wrong foot with two such influential members of the council as yourselves. Lady Falaise and Lord Jeren would like to invite you to stay and observe the remainder of this morning’s proceedings and then, perhaps, we might take some lunch before we start the business of the afternoon.”

The two men looked uncomfortable but nodded as Jeren ushered them to one side. The crowd were still packing the square, enthralled by the morning’s spectacle and waiting to see what more might develop.

David turned and walked across to where the widow Tersen was still standing with her son Matt clinging to her. “Madam, I do apologise for that untimely interruption and especially for the rough handling that you received. Are you hurt in any way?”

“No, my lord, I am not hurt but I thank you.”

“Well then, you say you have no money to pay for the return of your boy?”

“Alas no, my lord.”

“And I presume then, that none of the silverware was yours?”

She managed a weak smile at that. “No, my lord. The silver all went long ago.”

“Hm. If I accept this as a debt then, is there anyone here who will stand guarantor for you?”

“I will, my lord,” Falaise said from behind him.

David nodded. “Very well. Evan enter one silver talon into the ledger as a debt against widow Tersen’s name.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“No wait. Don’t thank me yet, madam. Did you pay your taxes to Duke Henry a few days ago?”

“I did… as he well knows,” she replied pointing at Evan. “Two talons and three
groats. That is why I have no coin left. He took everything I had.”

Evan shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he leafed
back through the ledger. “Ah yes,
I have it milord. As she said;
two silver talons and three groats.”

David raised his voice to address the crowd. “Most, if not all of you paid taxes to Duke Henry last week, I think.”

There were nods and a few rude comments from the crowd.

“Well,” he said slapping Evan on the shoulder, “the Duke’s former tax collector and I have decided that the Duke no longer needs all of those taxes. So if you would like to step forward again, starting with the widow Tersen here, every coin that you paid in tax last week will be returned to you.”

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