Chapter Twenty Thera
CHAPTER TWENTY
Thera
Thera had been a rare visitor to the tower once occupied by Sister Silver.
While its lack of decoration made Sister Iron’s chambers seem ostentatious by comparison, it was rich in furniture that bespoke an old woman’s desire for comfort.
Veilwald Synghild Vyrnvest seemed to appreciate the murdered queen’s taste, sighing in relief as she sank onto a soft leather couch positioned alongside the fireplace.
Numerous documents and ledgers sat in stacks on a low table within easy reach, the fruits of her labour over the two days since her arrival.
Sister Silver’s library was even more extensive than Lore’s, but consisted of very different material.
Ledgers recording every aspect of Ascarlian commerce for the last ten years rested upon the many shelves filling the other chambers of this tower.
Entire vaults of the Verungyr’s lower regions were set aside for the older records, some dating back all the way to the crowning of the first Sister Queens.
Sister Silver, like her predecessors, was insistent on accurate record keeping to the point of obsession, an example the Traitor Queen had signally failed to follow.
“It’s all a big fucking mess,” Synghild said, tossing a sheet of clumsily inscribed parchment onto the nearest stack.
“Because Lore killed all the most skilled reckoners in Silver’s employ, it appears she was left with no true understanding of the realm’s wealth, or the workings of its commerce.
Most of this—” she waved a hand at the stacked papers “—amounts to increasingly threatening notes from the Traitor Queen demanding non-existent monies she imagined were just sitting in the vaults of the Verungyr. Also, it appears several months’ worth of taxes haven’t been collected for the simple reason that those charged with doing so died in the slaughter in Nerlfeya’s Hall. ”
“So,” Thera said, “you’re telling me that this realm is more empty of pocket than a sailor after a night in port?”
Synghild began a laugh, then stopped as pain tightened her features.
She had recovered well after her wounding in the battle to defend Vorun Hardta, but not fully.
Thera had delayed requesting her appointed Guardian of the Queen’s Treasury join her in Skar Magnol for several weeks.
But the increasing number of petitions from various merchants, and polite reminders that many of the queen’s servants hadn’t been paid in months, compelled her to send the invitation.
Arriving with typical promptness, Synghild swiftly set about a thorough examination of the realm’s finances.
“Not entirely,” she said once the ache had passed.
Reaching for another document, she handed it to Thera.
“Lore’s Edict of Requisition issued not long before she sailed for Olversahl.
All households in Skar Magnol and the nearby villages were required to surrender one half of their wealth on pain of death.
It seems those Vellihr Ilvar set to the task did so with considerable enthusiasm, and displayed no reluctance in enforcing this decree.
Over twenty people were hung and a large amount of silver and sundry valuables gathered.
It’s all sitting in a vault below this tower.
I find it curious that Lore should abandon such riches.
Nevertheless, she has afforded you a mighty gift.
In terms of personal wealth at least, you sit as possibly the richest monarch in Ascarlian history, my queen. ”
“You mean I sit upon stolen riches while my realm remains poor.” Thera afforded the document a disgusted glance and cast it back onto the table. “Set this treasure aside until we can find its rightful owners. I trust you have already reinstated taxes to fill our war chest?”
“I have. We now enjoy a steady trickle of revenue, but only a trickle. Veilwald Torlund has assisted greatly in making a gift of three chests filled to the brim with silver, gold, and jewels. Some of it was no doubt captured at Olversahl, but I’d estimate half comes from his own reserves, which are considerable. ”
“And what did he ask for in return?”
“Nothing. But with men such as him, it’s what he doesn’t ask for that matters. I suggest a reduction in taxes for his geld for a period of ten years, once the war is won, of course. In the meantime, I calculate we have enough to cover immediate expenses.”
“I trust that you’ll ensure we spend only as much as necessary.”
“Forgive me, my queen, but when it comes to war, moderation is a fool’s conceit.
Even with renewed income and the Veilwald’s gift, by the time this is done, we’ll have scraped every chest and coin sack dry.
” Synghild hesitated before speaking on, her features betraying a rare trepidation.
“It is my duty to consider not just tomorrow, but all the many years to follow. War has made a ruin of commerce and I don’t expect trade to start flowing until the summer.
I wouldn’t suggest this but for the dire situation of this realm, but we have little option but to agree the terms offered by Duchess Ayin, and seek more.
The Dowager Princess holds the purse strings of the Royal Bank and is known to be generous with her loans, if the terms are favourable. ”
“No. I know the price she’ll ask, and I’ll not surrender Olversahl to our longest standing foes, not after spilling so much blood to save it from the Traitor Queen.”
“Other accommodations could be negotiated. Their proposed agreement seeks a reduction in duties on Albermaine-ish goods. We could offer they be abolished completely, and allow their merchants to establish trading houses on Ascarlian soil.”
“Something Silver always refused, with good reason. What the southerners can’t take in battle, they buy.”
“I see no other way, my queen. Not unless we abandon the war and even then we’ll see many folk going hungry before the year’s out.”
Thera went to the window, looking out across the port and the ships crowding the harbour of Skar Magnol.
With winter giving way to spring, a good many warships had already arrived and more would be coming.
By the time she led them forth, she would have thousands of mouths to feed, not to mention all the myriad expenses that arose from maintenance of a fleet so large.
“When it comes to war,” she muttered, “a fool talks of strategy, while the wise talk of money.”
“My queen?” Synghild asked.
“Something Sister Silver used to say.” Thera moved away from the window, affording her Guardian of the Treasury a brisk smile.
“I leave negotiations with Duchess Ayin in your hands. I caution you not to be fooled by her appearance. There’s a steel mask behind that pretty face, and be wary of letting her sing to you.
She has a way with song that tends to ensnare even the hardest heart.
” She paused. Her next instructions were unavoidable but she disliked the burden they placed on a woman who had already borne so much.
“Also, I sail for the Outer Isles within the week, there to muster the great fleet for the voyage across the Styrnspeld. When I do, the governance of the realm will be in your hands. If I do not return, you will be queen of the Ascarls.”
She expected anger, possibly even outright defiance, but Synghild surprised her with a mere slumping of her shoulders and a thin, weary sigh. “You will issue an edict to this effect, my queen?”
“I already have, Veilwald. You will not have to shoulder the burden alone. Veilwald Hakkyn of the Aiken Geld will be appointed Queen’s Protector. I’ve a sense he’s had his fill of war and won’t object to being denied a place in the fleet.”
Synghild gave a faint nod of acceptance before asking, “My son, I assume he will sail with you.”
Thera’s brows quirked a little. The Veilwald of the Speldmeara Geld rarely referred to Teylhar in such terms. “That misbegotten whelp” or simply “my bastard” were more usual, despite the fact that he was her sole surviving child and the only one not to have betrayed her.
“His role as Queen’s Engineer makes him irreplaceable, I’m afraid,” Thera said.
“All those wicked devices of his require a skilled hand to work properly, and there are none more skilled than he.”
“I should like to see him before you sail, if it can be arranged.”
“Of course. I’ll see to it.”
“Thank you, my queen.”
Which do we choose?
Thera sensed a worrying tinge of trepidation to Lynnea’s silent question. Nine silver knots lay between them on the bed. The hour was late and Thera had banished all guards and servants from the Queen’s Tower. It would be best to have no witnesses to what she and her Tielwald were about to attempt.
“We could wear them all,” Thera said. “You take four and I’ll take the rest.”
Her suggestion provoked a startled glare from Lynnea. I think that… unwise, she replied. One each would be safer. It’s just a question of which.
“Our object is to discover the guiding hand behind the Volkrath.” Thera tried not to let her own apprehension show in her voice, a pointless exercise since Lynnea could surely sense it.
“The last time I tried, it went… poorly.” She closed her eyes, pushing away the memory.
She preferred not to dwell upon the dream conjured by the knot found on the corpse of Lohdur, the Volkrath who had hanged himself in shame on Ayl-ah-Vahrim.
The thing she had found there, the thing that had laughed at her, and hurt her. But then she had been alone.
“It stands to reason,” she continued after a short cough, “that whoever they answer to will be awaiting word from their most valued agents.”