“Salutations, Dayna,” Galen intoned, as he indicated his companion. “The Lord of the Pursuivant has brought you some special linens. So special, in fact, that he insisted on carrying them hence from the Weavers’ Guild.”
“Then let’s set them down before he trips over something.” I stepped aside, beckoning Herald to come forward. He moved to place his burden on the table, setting out the folded cloth in several piles as he spoke.
“My thanks, Dame Chrissie. I didn’t mean to disturb you prior to your midmorning attendance at court. But I was so very pleased with the latest items from our artisans that I wanted to bring them over right away!”
Herald proudly described the thread count and fabric makeup of each pile. These included two sets of bed linen, a few light cloaks or capes to wear to court during the summer, sets of ‘bathing linens,’ which I think meant ‘bath and face towels’, and even a full set of cloth napkins. The common element to each item was my four-colored shield either printed or embroidered on each piece, probably with a great deal of labor.
“I’m impressed,” I said honestly. “It’s just...well, I don’t feel like I deserve all this attention.”
Shaw and Liam snickered at that. Galen raised an eyebrow.
Liam spoke up. “She’s been attracting a lot of the unwanted kind today. Specifically, that of no less than three knights-errant.”
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “These three idiots in armor each wanted permission to fight in the Spring Tournament as my favored champion.”
“You didn’t give your permission to any of them, did you?” Herald asked, his voice leaping in pitch. “You didn’t even hint at accepting any of their requests, I hope?”
“Of course not! I found out that this gives a winning knight the opportunity to court his lady.”
“Oh my, it’s not just that! A knight who fights as a favored champion can be considered a woman’s ‘protector’. They are bound by the laws of honor to challenge any man who so much as makes eyes at his lady to bloody combat. It’s a very good way to scare off potential suitors and make the lady unavailable to marry anyone but that one knight!”
A chill settled between my shoulder blades and stayed there. I’d just come uncomfortably close to an unwitting and unwilling courtship event. I laughed unsteadily.
“Well then, I’m glad I put things off. Like I was telling Shaw and Liam, this whole thing with the knights is ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely it is ridiculous!” Herald agreed firmly. “Dame Chrissie, you should be marrying a lord with land and titles, not some penniless errant knight!”
“Um...” I tried to interrupt, but Herald ignored me and went right on talking.
“In light of recent events, you’ve become one of the highest-ranking women in the kingdom, second only to Lady Behnaz. And speaking of Lady Behnaz, we spoke about you for quite some time yesterday. I’m rather pleased with the results I obtained between morning and afternoon tea.”
Herald looked expectantly at Galen. The centaur frowned for a moment, then raised his eyebrows as if suddenly remembering something. He reached into one of his saddlebags and pulled out a scroll held together with a short length of red-and-black cord.
“Ah, thank you for carrying this.” Herald took the scroll and untied the cord. “I couldn’t have handled it along with all those linens, after all.”
Galen inclined his head politely. “Think nothing of it, Herald.”
“Wait just a minute,” I muttered, as a new suspicion dawned in my mind. “What do you have written on that scroll?”
Herald beamed. “The solution to all of your problems, Dame Chrissie! This is a complete list of the choicest suitors of the royal court who can potentially bring in the rather substantial amount of funding you require.”
“The funding...” I tried to say, but the nervous butterflies in my stomach were rapidly escaping as I felt my anger start to kick in. “Why in the world do I suddenly need a ‘substantial’ amount of money? Did I suddenly go broke?”
The Lord of the Pursuivant arched an eyebrow as he replied. “It’s quite simple, really. You’re far worse than ‘broke’. As a matter of fact, you’re more heavily in debt than any single knight or lord has been in the past seven hundred years since the founding of the kingdom of Andeluvia.” For a moment, all I could do was gape at the man.
Just my rotten luck.
Chapter Three
This day was getting better all the time.
So. Not only did I sort of cause a three-way brawl in the courtyard, now I was liable for what sounded like a sizeable portion of the kingdom’s national debt. And to top that off, the Andeluvian answer to an online dating service was doing their best to set me up.
Galen took the scroll from Herald and began to unroll it. The centaur wizard ‘hmmed’ more than once as he went through the scroll. All I noticed was how disconcertingly long the damned thing was.
“Perchance, would these prospects be placed in any particular order?” Galen asked.
“Oh yes, they’re listed roughly from the top prospect to the bottom,” Herald replied. “Roughly, for I was short of correction fluid when I penned this document.”
Galen rubbed his chin with one hand. “Certainly, these are wealthy individuals. Some have limited amounts of currency, but hold substantial tracts of land.”
“That was key to our selections. The debt Dame Chrissie owes is such that holding a substantial estate is extremely helpful. A large amount of land, with many subjects living on it, would help her make payments with interest at a rate and sum which should hold the owls that run the Exchequer at bay.”
“I know I’m going to regret this,” I groused, “but let me see this list of so-called excellent prospects.”
Galen handed over the scroll. I went through the top few lines before I felt the bile start to rise in my throat. I forced myself to sound halfway calm. Or at least one-quarter of the way calm.
“I recognize some of these lords from court!” I protested. “And you put Lord Alvey at the top of the list. Alvey! The man’s at least eighty years old!”
“All the better, if you ensure that you are well-ensconced in his inheritance,” Herald pointed out. “He has accumulated a rich estate over his lifetime that requires hundreds of peasant families to work it.”
“Alvey’s got liver spots! Crow’s feet as deep as wagon tracks! And he’s missing all his front teeth!”
“Good looks are always fleeting. You shall not have to worry about age robbing his.”
“Not to mention that he has breath that could choke a dragon!”
“And yet he is quite popular among the young ladies,” Herald concluded lamely. “All of them say the same thing. Lord Alvey’s dutiful, he’s rich, and he’s got a huge...tract of land!”
I suspect Galen spotted the steam starting to vent from my ears. Rather than sit back and watch my head explode, like Shaw and Liam, he decided to risk getting his hooves singed and interrupted Herald’s sales pitch.
“Lord Pursuivant, since pecuniary matters are at issue,” he interposed, “word should soon circulate about the depth of Dame Chrissie’s debt. That alone should cool any suitor’s ardor, should it not?”
Herald considered. He reached up, nudging his eggplant-colored roundlet hat to one side to scratch his head. “Perhaps. But having a high-ranking, marriageable female on the royal court is as rare as sighting a unicorn on the palace green! And given the circumstances, an interested suitor, such as a landless knight, would likely press for marriage as soon as possible.”
“What circumstances?” Liam asked, with a toss of his antlers.
“Typically, one in chronic debt to the Exchequer is stripped of their title, and their remaining property impounded. However, Dame Chrissie is considered to be a favorite of our beloved monarch. A knight might be inclined to wager that the King would work out some deal to allow her to pay off the debt in installments. If the knight turns out to be wrong, his is a relatively low
ly title he can win back in battle. Also, he has few or no lands or estate for the Exchequer to take. If he is right, and he marries Dayna while she retains her title, his status would be permanently boosted at court.”
If anything, that deepened my frown lines even more. “Great. So at least I’m a valuable, if somewhat risky, asset.”
“We shall stand by thee, no matter what!” Shaw insisted. “Fayleene, griffin, and centaurs backed your ascension to dame hood, and we shan’t allow the King to renege!”
“Thanks, big guy,” I said, then took a deep breath. “Let’s back up a step here. First off, I’m already spoken for in the romance department.”
“Yes, yes, I have heard of your ‘boyfriend’ in the City of the Angels,” Herald acknowledged. “I’m sure he’s a fine, strapping lad. But he is neither a knight, nor a noble. He has not taken you formally for a wife. He lacks conversance in our ways and, most importantly, lacks the sacksful of golden crowns you require.”
I gritted my teeth and decided to move on to my real concern. “Then what, exactly, do I owe the Exchequer, and how did this happen?”
“Ah, that brings me to the next reason I wished to speak to you as soon as possible,” Herald said. “I take it that you are aware of the Exchequer’s function?”
“To collect the taxes levied by the Parliament. Both organizations are run by the Hoohan.”
“They also fulfill a lesser-known function, the collection of outstanding debt.”
“Yes, I suppose they’re part of anything involving money in the kingdom.” I suppressed a shudder as I added, “They’re short-staffed right now, given the recent events involving the Noctua.”
“Short-staffed they may be, but they are busier than ever. Given the parlous state of the royal treasury, the King has required that all lords and knights not affiliated with a lord pay their annual tax early.”
“Does that include me? Didn’t I receive my position from the King directly?”
“I wondered that myself, so I looked up the legal codes on the subject,” Galen said, tapping one of his forehooves on the stone floor in thought. “Unfortunately, this does apply to you, Dayna. Technically, all who do not serve lords report directly to the King, whether they were raised by him to knighthood or not. And since the King’s finances are directed to the Exchequer...”
“Then I have to pay too,” I sighed. Then I did a double take. “Hold on...I was granted this tower as my demesne. I didn’t get a salary with it!”
Shaw chuckled. “Thy rearing in the other world yet trips thee up time and again. No knight or lord ever receives a ‘salary’ for performing their duties.”
“A lord or knight’s taxes are paid in only one way,” Herald explained patiently. “From the dues he – or she – collects from the peasants, laborers, craftsmen, and merchants who work and live on the land.”
“Which is why Fitzwilliam was surprised that I didn’t want any land when I was granted my new status,” I realized. “I thought I was ducking the need to manage anyone. But instead, I passed up the only way to pay my tax bill.”
“Concisely put.”
Then I did a second double take. “Wait a minute! That means...I have to pay to work here?”
My three friends, as well as the Lord Pursuivant, nodded solemnly.
I cursed under my breath, turning away for a moment. Right then and there I wanted to kick something. Probably myself in the butt for assuming too much and not learning enough about the world I still wanted to live in. At least, most of the time.
“How much money does the king need from me to pay this early tax?”
Herald pursed his lips. “I spoke to the local owl representative. Since you’ve had your status and grounds for only a few weeks, it’s around one hundred crowns, give or take.”
A ‘crown’ was Andeluvia’s basic gold coin. From what I gathered, even a single crown was a substantial sum for the average person. Everyday transactions for things like food and drink were purchased with silver or copper coins called ‘crescents’ and ‘cups’.
“That’s somewhat expensive,” Galen observed. “At least for such a short interval of time.”
“Newly raised knights or dames normally don’t request extensive masonry work to their demesnes,” Herald pointed out, as he cast a glance at the work being done to my floor.
“Nevertheless, I am sure that we can all pitch in to pay the bill,” Liam announced. “My people have little use for coinage, but we have access to a few stashes of crowns and crescents.”
“I shall similarly contribute to thee,” Shaw declared.
“I receive a bi-annual stipend from the kingdom for my services as court wizard,” Galen added. “I would be happy to supply you with the funds you require as well.”
“Guys, I really appreciate the help,” I breathed thankfully. “I’ll find a way to pay you back. But I need to know more about this monstrous ‘debt’ that Herald’s been talking about. How much is it, and why am I suddenly responsible for it?”
Herald let out a sigh and slowly took off his hat. Somehow that only made me feel worse about what was coming.
“The Hoohan are still doing the final tabulation of the amount. But it is estimated to be upwards of a quarter of a million crowns.”
Galen made a gagging sound. Shaw and Liam simply stared, aghast. My stomach decided to do a loop-the-loop in response to the news.
“Now, as to the ‘why’ behind this debt,” Herald went on. “I need to direct your attention to part of the oath you swore to King Fitzwilliam on the day of your investiture: Thou shalt observe homage to him and thy knightly order above all others in good faith.”
“Yes, I remember that,” I agreed. “But I didn’t get any information about what knightly orders exist, or which one I belong to.”
“There are several orders of knights,” Galen informed me. “They predominate depending on familial ties, lordly service, or geographic area. For example, the Order of the Widow’s Moon prevails in the Eastern Reaches.”
“Aye, ‘tis true,” Shaw broke in. “And most of the Air Cavalry belongs to the Order of the Silver Spur, a fine and venerable organization.”
“I’m sure it is,” I said. “So how come I never got word from any knightly ‘order’ that I had signed up, even if under protest?”
The Lord of the Pursuivant cleared his throat as he set his hat back on its perch atop his head. “Ah. Well. Now we come to delicate matters. You have been assigned to a knightly order only recently. As to which one...I felt it might be easier if I showed you the object they claimed as a mascot.”
Herald went over to the purple ropes that hung from the ceiling and gave them a tug. A two-tone chime pealed through the palace halls. Almost instantly, one of the royal pages appeared on cue. He was a young boy, with a blond mop of hair that reminded me of the Dutch kid on the logo for some brand of paint. Like all of the royal pages, he was dressed in the position’s typical robin-egg blue uniform.
“I have a pair of your compatriots waiting nearby,” Herald instructed the page. “They’re in the antechamber next to the throne room. They have something that now belongs to Dame Chrissie. Tell them to bring it immediately.”
The boy bowed and ran off. The silence that remained in the room when he left turned awkward in a hurry. Then heavy with expectation.
After a couple of minutes, the door opened to admit all three young pages. One held the door while the other two brought in a tattered-looking brown object on a little wooden stand. They set it down on the table next to my assorted custom-made linens and left the way they came.
Galen looked askance at it. Liam’s expression was one of simple confusion. Shaw clamped a paw over his beak, trying his best not to laugh.
As for me?
All I could say was the first thing that leaped to mind.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
Chapter Four
I recognized the googly-eyed example of substandard taxidermy as some kind of long-bodied mamma
l. But that was about it. At first glance, the poorly stuffed animal looked like a brown tabby cat that had swallowed a golf club.
“For a mascot, it is rather...underwhelming,” Liam remarked.
That was putting it lightly. The polecat-like animal had been preserved in an upright position as if it were a rearing grizzly bear, complete with tiny outstretched forepaws. The predatory look the taxidermist had been shooting for was pretty well ruined by the bulging eyes and a bad case of buckteeth.
On top of that, the damned thing had moth-eaten patches of exposed skin. Worst of all, a prior renovator had tried gluing some other kind of animal’s fur over several of the bald spots. The result ended up resembling a botched attempt at hair transplant surgery.
“Most groups of knights choose to venerate majestic animals,” Galen observed. “The lion, perhaps, or a predatory bird like the falcon. Which order is this mounted monstrosity supposed to represent?”
Herald coughed into his hand. “This is the sigil mascot of the Order of the Weasel.”
“Order of the what?” I exclaimed, as my voice cracked on the last word.
“The weasel. I assure you that this is not a joke, Dame Chrissie. This is a completely legitimate knightly organization.”
“Then thou art a knave,” Shaw growled. “I know all current Orders, and this one...well, ‘tis not one that I would forget.”
Herald smiled faintly in the face of Shaw’s angry expression. “You haven’t seen it, my fine drake, because Dame Chrissie is the first member in almost three decades.”
“Almost three...” I repeated, sounding more than a little shell-shocked. “Can’t I just join someone else’s group? One with a mascot that doesn’t look quite as...”
“Appalling?”
“I was going to say ‘ridiculous, but that will do.”
The Lord of the Pursuivant cleared his throat again. I gritted my teeth, knowing by now that this was a sign Herald was about to tell me something I wouldn’t like.
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