[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

at the latest in the third week of January the Provincial Council should assemble. For that to
happen, summons had to be written and sent to every lord and every community in the
province.
The Provincial Council was a gathering of the nobility on one side, and the representatives
of the people on the other. The City of Dermolhea was prepared to host the assembly. Mayor
Fraleck had quickly calculated that the cost would be insignificant, when compared to the
money all those travelers would bring in. There was also the prestige to be considered and
the fact that Dermolhea would finally reconnect with its proud past as defender of the people.
And the nobles, ah, the nobles would be fleeced by the adroit merchants of the city.
 What exactly do you need the Council for? Tomar asked.
To raise troops, of course, Anaxantis answered.  To raise troops and yet more troops.
Amiratha should be able to give us seven thousand men. At least. That would give us a fight-
ing force of more than fourteen thousand to meet the Mukthars with. These are odds I like a
lot better than those father has provided us with.
 Yes, I understand that, but couldn't you just order them?
 I suppose I could, but I want their active cooperation. I want them to believe in the possib-
ility of defeating the Mukthars. I want them to feel as if they're participating.
 And how exactly are you going to convince them.
 Oh, never mind that for the moment, Anaxantis smiled.  Please, let your office calculate
how much it will cost to raise a fully equipped contingent of seven thousand men, and by how
much I will have to raise the taxes. I've made my own calculations, but I need official confirm-
ation and rock solid figures.
 You're going to raise taxes? Tomar cried out.  Aren't you afraid they will refuse? They
can, you know. They can vote down your proposals. All extra money levied in excess of the
Royal Taxes is considered a tribute. In essence a voluntary contribution, at the discretion of
the Council, to be used solely for the well being of the province.
 I know, I know, my learned friend. But how do you want me to raise troops without
money? Let's say I have gilded the pill somewhat. I'm sure they will give me my money. I
already ran my proposals by the lord mayor of Dermolhea and he seemed to think that, on the
whole, it was very reasonable.
Tomar sighed.
 You are not telling me how you're going to tackle this, are you?
 You know me well, Anaxantis smiled.
 You'll be pleased to know that my cavalry will be back up to full strength in two weeks.
Trained, equipped and all. It's surprising how many good horsemen are looking for a commis-
sion, Iftang said rubbing his hands.  So, whereto next? Tomar said, Dermolhea again. Some
council or other.
 Yes, Anaxantis said, laughing at the general's enthusiasm.  And then, my friend, we go
for a longer trip. The Renuvian Plains. Finally. We're going by way of Mirkadesh. If they
thought I would let them off that easily, they're in for a rude awakening. Begin February.
 Excellent, excellent. The Plains. I can hardly wait. I think this is the first time ever a
Ximerionian armed force has penetrated that territory. Who knows what we'll find. With any
luck we'll stumble on a few good places to lay in ambush when the barbarians come.
 Yes, exactly what I was thinking. But first the Provincial Council. We'll need all the men,
and I want their equipment in top condition and their cuirasses shining as new.
 You want us dressed to impress. Good. Planning any surprises like in Landemere?
 Oh, I hope not. Let's say that as lord governor I want to inspire them with due awe for the
might of the crown.
 It seems like somebody made a mistake, Bortram said, without introduction, entering the
war room.
Anaxantis looked up from the parchments he had been reading.
 I wanted to send some money home, so I went to the paymaster to arrange it, and it
seems I have received about triple my usual pay.
 No, Anaxantis replied,  there is no mistake. That seems about right. You're on my payroll
now, and as one of my closest collaborators you're paid an officer's wage, not that of simple
soldier anymore. He smiled.  And I pay better than my father.
Bortram squinted his eyes at him.
 You're sure it's not a handout, charity? he asked suspiciously.  I hate charity, Anaxantis.
 No, of course it isn't charity, Anaxantis said, taken aback.  Whatever gave you that idea?
Ask Hemarchidas and Lethoras, if you want. They should be receiving the same. And by the
way, you're the first one that is complaining because he got a raise. It seems a tad ungrate-
ful.
 Yeah, see, that's just it. I don't want to have to be grateful. I want to earn my pay.
 By the Gods, Bortram, you make me almost beg to let me pay you. I assure you that you
earn every copper sarth you're getting. You're at my beck and call day and night. In fact, I'm
robbing you as it is.
Bortram kept looking suspiciously at him. Finally he relented.
 Hm. In that case it's all right, I suppose.
Anaxantis looked inquisitively at him.
 If you don't mind me asking, do you keep enough for yourself after you send money
home? It's all good and well to help your parents, but part of why I pay you better than the
army is because I would like you to look presentable. If you send everything home,
however...
 Things are a little bit difficult at the moment. I don't want to bore you.
 You're my friend. You're not boring me. What is the problem.
Bortram seemed reluctant to answer.
 I don't understand it too well myself, he said finally.  It has something to do with the re-
payments of the lands my father bought. You see, he was the third son so he had to fend for
himself. He loaned money to start the farm. It's almost payed for, but there seems to be some
kind of legal glitch. Some miscalculations. Apparently my father owes the lenders more than
he thought. Don't you worry about it.
 Well, I do, Bortram. I can't have you distracted by domestic troubles in times like these.
Let me help. Just ask how much your parents owe, and I'll pay 
 See, Bortram interrupted him,  that's just why I didn't want to tell you. I hate charity. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]