"Ah!" he said. He tossed the document aside and, tapping the dividers lightly on the map, looked at Dargul serenely. Here it comes, thought Dargul, and he stiffened.
"I am probably the richest living man in the entire world," Tallin said easily, and with a little laugh. Lord Tallin leaned back in his chair, actually putting his feet up on the desk. Dargul only nodded. Lord Tallin stirred his hot morning drink with another chuckle. "Indeed, my vaults are so overflowing with gold and silver that these past years I have contrived for the estate to accept no more, and have taken trade and service as payments for our crops and our goods. You know all this better than any. However, to have such wealth is a waste if it is not used. And, now, I do mean to use it. To accomplish my aim, I will use every grain of gold and every ounce of silver that I have in my possession. Every diamond, every ruby, and every sapphire. Every copper coin, if need be!"
Dargul shifted in his chair, "Do you propose to undertake some grand construction? For years you have talked about rebuilding the bridges along the South Road."
"Hardly! It is more along the lines of destruction that I aim. But as the ground is plowed before the seed is laid, and as old stones are cast aside to make room for a new foundation, sometimes destruction is merely the first part of something greater to come. I hope so. But we haven't much time, and there is not a moment to be lost. I know this is beyond your normal duties, but I trust you above all others to see things done properly. This is it: I want you to prepare such a store of food within the walls of the city that may sustain the entire population of Tallinvale for a year, until early summer, at the very least. Not only sustain those of us already here within the city, but also every man, woman, and child in this valley. I want you to undertake to buy all crops and all animals within our valley. At the same time, you will need to see to the construction of ample storage buildings, granaries, and stables. You undoubtedly have associates that you can call upon to oversee some of these tasks. Regardless, all must be done quickly."
Tallin suddenly stood up and began pacing back and forth as he spoke.
"I wish to purchase a lease on all lands and houses in the valley with an assurance that an equal portion to the lease paid will be given the owners should any damage befall their property. All those who accept our lease are to do so within the fortnight, and, as a condition of the lease, they are to remove themselves here. A fortnight only, and no more, is allowed, so you must send heralds out with the news to prepare them. I have here a written list of what will be paid as lease according to acres, buildings, cropland, and rents as listed in this past census, just completed last month. You must understand that this lease is my way to encourage our people to leave their farms and their outlying shops and lands for a time. All men and boys above twelve years of age and less than eighty who are strong enough to bear arms will be called to duty, lease or no lease, and all farming and husbandry are to be put aside. The women and children are to be employed wherever possible or necessary with the granaries or mills in Tallin Town or any other suitable occupation that is productive and may be protected within the walls. Schools will be established, and those masters engaged in the village schools will be moved here. All within a fortnight, do you hear?"
"Yes, Lord. A massive undertaking in so little time. But why? Do you mean to increase our armies? Why do you seek to lease the lands?"
"We are going to war. If we act swiftly, we can prepare in time. After a fortnight from today, we must all be gathered within the walls. We will then have but another fortnight, after all are gathered, to prepare. But in time or not, prepared or not, I intend to provoke the Redvests and the Damar to enter into war against us and to lay siege to this city."
"My lord! Why? Our treaties, though precarious, still stand. Surely every day without bloodshed has value?"
"Indeed, it does. Value to the enemy! But bloodshed is coming. Already the enemy has tested our lines to the south. They are prepared to turn north. I am convinced that they believe Tallinvale will be an easy capture, rich in plunder, though costly in time and men. They would rather wait until the war in the southwest and west is fully within their control. By that time, according to what I believe to be their reckoning, we will be isolated. This is our chance. We do not have the means to stop their attack on the west. But we may tax their strength, force them to expend their precious resources, and weaken their ranks. If we are fortunate, we may even upset their plans. By turning north against us, they will have fewer men to commit to the western battles to come."
"What reason will you give them for turning against us?"
"I will close the South Road near the Lerse. It is the plan of the Redvests to use the South Road to send supplies and food to their southern armies now gathering. The message will be clear. To secure the road, and their captured harvests, they will have to traverse the whole of Tallinvale, land we know well, and they hardly at all. We will draw them northward to us, burning as we retreat, leaving not so much as an ear of corn or a sack of potatoes for them to scavenge. They will be forced to lay siege upon us. The Damar will strike against our western flanks while the Redvest forces will build from the south. When they realize our power, they will move quickly, but not quickly enough. It will soon be winter. Their long march and their siege will be more costly still. They will be harried from the north by the Janhaven and Hill Town forces, and they will have nothing to eat but what they bring. They will be cold and sick and far from home. To relieve them, Tracia will pour northward with more troops and supplies, and then still more and more. Yet, we will hold on. Thus, we will bleed them like an open wound in salty water. Their final assault upon us, if all goes along my expectations, will be in the late winter or early spring. Their victory over us will permit the resumption of their original plans. Once we are annihilated, nothing will stand between them and the lands to the southwest. But if the Tracian Redvests are to be allied to the Dragon Peoples, we will see to it that they are a weakened and bruised partner. The alliance with Tracia permits the Dragon armies to be secure on their eastern flanks, and they may at last throw their whole strength at Vanara, or march past Vanara and straight north to Duinnor. Either way, one by one, the Realms will be cut off from one another. And, one by one, all of the Seven Realms will be overrun and conquered."
"Lord Tallin, I hear in your voice and see in your eyes that you are serious in this matter and that your mind is set upon this course of action," Dargul said. "But what assurance do you have that we may defeat them without Duinnor's help?"
"I have no hope of defeating the Redvests, only to delay them. To hurt them, reduce their numbers, and strain their treasury. To wear them down."
Dargul blinked.
"Then why? Why bring this destruction upon Tallinvale? If Duinnor does not come to our aid, then what?"
"We must first go to the aid of Duinnor, and to our King!" Tallin looked at Dargul and smiled again. "I know what you are thinking, but will not say and have never said in all the long years of our friendship. You, like most of us, have no faith in our King. You, like most of us, feel the sting of Duinnor's neglect and even wonder why we should remain loyal. But it is for hope that we fight! For hope of our survival. Maybe, even, for hope that tomorrow's Duinnor will not be the same as today's."
"Not the same? I don't understand. What do you mean?"
A rap came at the doorway, and Weylan stood there, along with a dozen other soldiers.
"Remember, Glareth will not be idle for too long," Tallin said to Dargul, then stood and turned to Weylan and the other soldiers. "Ah! Captains, come in!" Tallin grinned, waving the men into the room. "I have many orders for you and much to discuss. The first of which cannot wait, so have your aides make ready to dispatch fast-riding messengers to Hill Town, Janhaven, and to Glareth by the Sea. Dargul, good friend, perhaps I will be able to tell you more at a later time, but for now, please begin preparing those leases."
• • •
"Windard told me I'd find you here."
Ashlord lo
oked up from the parchment he was studying.
"Ah, Robby! You are up early."
"I thought we'd be getting an early start."
Ashlord took another paper and looked over it as they talked. Robby entered and roamed, looking at the books, sometimes taking one down and reading a little.
"Early enough, though a bit later," Ashlord said. "It has already been a busy morning for some."
"Yes, I noticed a great deal of hubbub out in the front yard and down in the great hall. Looked like lots of messengers and soldiers coming and going and many of the townfolk, too. What is it all about?"
"War, Robby," Ashlord said plainly, without looking up from the page he was running his finger down. "Lord Tallin is taking his people to war against the Tracian Redvests and the Damar."
"What? Why? When did this all come about? Just yesterday my grandfather spoke of delicate treaties! What has changed his mind? Lyrium's visit?"
Ashlord looked up and smiled.
"No. He came to a change of heart on his own. These events we are living through have been in the making for many generations, each development along the road to the present shaped by countless choices, decisions, and actions great and small. Now, choices are being forced, and indecision may be the worst sort of answer. In other words, it all came together for Lord Tallin last night."
The two gazed at each other for a long moment.
"If you are wondering at your role in this," Ashlord put forward, "you should know that Lord Tallin seeks to buy you time. He hopes to disrupt the westward movement of the enemy armies, to delay them, and to interfere with the Damar's efforts to build their forces. He aims to weaken the accord between Tracia and Damar and to undermine their effort to join with the Dragonkind. And, perhaps, if we hope beyond luck, to even prevent the coming together of that alliance. I have no doubt that he sends out his provocateurs as we speak."
"But what of Duinnor? What role does Duinnor play?"
"Duinnor sleeps, Robby. And until some other king comes to rule, I fear it will remain in a slumber. There is little hope of otherwise rousing it as Tallinvale has been, until it is too late and the enemy is at the gate."
"But isn't it the most powerful of the Seven Realms?"
"Perhaps. But how can Duinnor know of Lord Tallin's decision? I am doubtful even that they know of Tracia's movements and plans, its efforts to ally with Damar and the Dragonfolk. This morning before dawn, I sent Certina to deliver the news, but though she is swift and will not rest, Duinnor is over four hundred leagues from here, as the owl flies. It will be many days, at least, before she arrives and then many more after that for her to return."
"When will the fighting start? I mean, around here."
"Not for at least two weeks, perhaps a month. We must be far away by then, well beyond the Damar lands. We cannot risk your capture, and I'm afraid those who may wish to stop us will soon learn of our plans and may guess our way. Besides that, there are many who will not know of us but would find it profitable for their own ends to have captives. To sell, or worse."
"Or worse?"
"Or worse. Do not forget Bailorg and his abuse of Billy. Nor his casual disposing of Sheila's uncle. Surely there are others like him."
Robby nodded. "Yes, of course."
"We will be on our way soon enough," Ashlord concluded. "Ullin and his friend Weylan are preparing our things now, and by noon all will be ready. I just want to quickly look over a few more of these manuscripts. Why don't you browse around? It is a fine library, one of the best between Vanara and Glareth. There are some particularly good histories over there, some with quite artfully done illustrations of remarkable accuracy."
"That is what Sheila told me."
Robby did as Ashlord suggested, quickly finding many interesting volumes. Some of them told of histories that he had learned from Broadweed's school, but in much more detail. Others told of completely new places and people he had never heard of but who did mighty and wondrous things. There were many, indeed, with fine illustrations, one in particular with paintings on every few pages that seem so realistic he could almost feel the breeze that tugged the banners on the castles illustrated, or hear the cry of battle from those scenes, terrible and shocking to view. Soon he was no longer mindful of the passing of time, so absorbed he was in this treasure of knowledge. There were several books on the Dragonkind, and he was amazed when he perused them that their cities were so fine and beautiful, for he had always been of the impression that they were a crude and artless people. He saw a small book, written in the western script that he struggled to understand, and he noticed right away on the binding an embossed inscription, in gold leaf, that resembled a familiar name.
"Did you write this?" Robby asked, holding up the book.
"What? Oh, that. Well, no," Ashlord said smiling. "It says there 'An Interview with a Late Traveler from the Dragon Lands, one Collandoth of Duinnor.' It is an account of a portion of my time in those lands, very long ago."
"It's about you!"
"Yes, it tells of my work and my observations," he sighed, "but few ever read it, and fewer still minded what they read or else many troubles might have been avoided."
"All these writings," Robby said, fingering the spines of some of the bound volumes. "These histories full of great people and mighty feats, thinkers and kings, you and others, warriors and poets and builders. I feel so small before them, though they are only page and ink. What can I do compared to these? How is my own single life to be measured against these long histories, Ashlord?"
"It is not the books you write, nor the buildings you build that matter when life is done," Ashlord replied, putting one book aside and reaching for another. Then he looked up at the boy. "It isn't the battles you fight, or the tragedies you suffer, or the successes or failures. When life is over and done and you are gone away, it will be the connections you made that count most. If during your life you do not make those connections, then surely the afterworld will be cold and dark, for there, just as here, our way is lit only by those things to which we attach our hearts and minds. Whether friend, family, or stranger, the hand that we take or the one we offer is the touch that lasts and lasts. It is the power of that touch, so vast that the mind cannot encompass it, nor the eye see its bound, that goes on long after the breath has left the body and the world has forgotten the name."
"So all these things don't matter? These great works?"
"Oh they matter a great deal, Robby. They are the offspring of little things, of the efforts and loves, the struggles and trials, and the character and spirit of all who take a part in bringing things to be as they are. History is not written. It is lived. It is not carved, cut, cast, or charted. It is formed by the works, great and small, of every living being, of even the plants and animals of the world, the seas that beat upon its edge, and the stars that shine down upon it. You are history, Robby, and so am I. We shape it by what we do with what we have, when we have the time and strength to do those things. Certainly there are ways that can be foretold, even events predicted. Any man may say that a leaf will fall in autumn. But who may say where it will land and what will be its consequence?
"In fact, a story is sometimes told of a leaf that fell one summer, long before any others, and landed upon the still waters of a forest pond. The leaf made a slight ripple and upset a mayfly from its buzzing and caused it to fly near to the surface of the water. A fish snatched the mayfly and ate it, giving the fish strength to last another day. The next day a bear caught this fish, and so the bear lived another day, too. The day after, the bear discovered a honeycomb and upset the bees therein, which flew away and stung the horse of a passing messenger. The horse's rider was thrown and killed, and the message never delivered to the prince of the army. That army, then lacking the message, marched into folly and was destroyed, and so the kingdom fell to its enemies. Did the enemy cast down the kingdom? Or the horse, or the bee, or the bear, or the fish, or the mayfly? Or was the mighty kingdom toppled by the silent fall of a si
ngle leaf?"
"Hm. It seems to me that it was a long chain of things," Robby replied, "of many weak links that could have been broken, if things had but gone another way here or there."
Ashlord smiled. "You see clearly, then. Blame has little purpose. You may as well blame the mayfly as the army. Nothing is without consequence. Not even small things."
"Small things, indeed," Robby chuckled wryly. "I am overwhelmed by all the big things to notice the small things, it seems. I am so behind, so backward! How can all this be so? How can I be here, with the purpose I have? Hope? Now that seems a small thing!"
Robby shook his head, but Ashlord remained smiling.
"Much is demanded of you, Robby. I do not have all the answers, nor do I know how so much may be accomplished in so very little time. You must chase the wind, it seems, and I have no wings to give you. Those you must find on your own. I hope and believe that you will. A small thing? Hope? Yes. Maybe it is. And maybe sometimes it is even skittish, like the little finch, never still for very long. But it contains within it all the true treasures of the world. Those that our hands may touch and hold, and those treasures we may only feel with our hearts. Within hope's little breast, the greatest trove may be found."
The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door) Page 28
