'I would first like to hear what new taxes will be imposed,' Sempes said sharply, 'and what existing agreements your Chief Steward will actually honour.'
'There will be no additional taxation, but I will require troops and supplies from both of you. In particular we'll need horses, livestock and grain, double the amount agreed under the Lower Temple Levy.'
'Double?' spluttered Lokan, 'my Lord, you have an unusual idea of what 'no additional taxation' means.'
'The levy is not taxation; it's part of your responsibility as my subjects,' Isak said, 'and it is already set out in the agreement that in times of war the levy is doubled. All you are agreeing to is to encompass the spirit rather than the letter of the wording. We might not currently be at war, but we will by the time summer comes, and we must be prepared.'
'If we are discussing preparedness,' Lokan replied, having composed himself quickly, 'then the state of the navy must also be brought up.'
'There will be no more funds made available. I agree the navy is in need of overhaul, and that's something you'll be paying for yourselves. Additional taxation of your subjects is, of course, your concern, but we can't afford to have either of you dealing with insurrection over excessive taxes. I can offer you mages from the College of Magic to help, a dedicated group for each of your cities.'
'A few mages will make little difference,' Lokan blustered, but Isak knew it was a generous offer. With mage assistance, work could be massively accelerated; the College of Magic was located in Tirah precisely so the Lord of the Farlan could limit their employment in other cities.
The portly Duke of Merlat drained his cup and poured another. 'What I really need is the taxes on the Carfin River to be controlled, and sections dug out to allow deeper-hulled vessels to use it.'
The Carfin ran from Tirah to Merlat, and was the best way to transport goods from the plains in the north, where the majority of the Farlan's food originated. Since it ran through half-a-dozen suzerainties, the issue of river taxes was a vastly complicated one.
'You can't have both,' Isak pointed out, 'but it might be possible for Lesarl to put together a proposal for the suzerains responsible, with a little encouragement from Tirah, of course.'
'The herds from Merlat can at least walk,' Sempes pointed out.
'Remember, the tribe is dependent on my crops too. Raiding from the south is my greatest single problem. Will you give me assistance there?'
'What is it you need?'
'Southmarch.'
There was a defiant look in the duke's eyes that set Isak's instincts on edge, and at the back of his mind he felt Aryn Bwr stir. The Last King had been quiet of late, cowed into near-silence by the disturbing appearance of the Reapers on Irienn Square. Whatever fears Isak might have about his recurrent dreams of death, Aryn Bwr was even more terrified of the grave. There was no exaggeration when folk said that the darkest pit of Ghenna was reserved for him.
'A fortress?' The name meant nothing to Isak, and he felt a flutter of concern in his stomach. Thus far, Lesarl had prepared him for every step of the conversation, but now he was on his own. The sour look on Lokan's face told Isak that his concern was justified.
'Once a fortress, now little more than a ruin – past the end of the mountain line south of Perlir in a region called Hartoal's Steps.'
'Vanach territory,' Isak said, seeing in the duke's eyes that he was correct.
'The border is a bottleneck between the mountains and the sea', hissed Aryn Bwr in Isak's ear. 'A man who wants to defend his lands builds a fortress there; one who builds outside it wants a base for conquest.'
'Only nominally,' Sempes said. 'The region north of the Turnarn River has only the barest semblance of civilisation these days, hence the frequency of the raids. They're little more than savages, living in squalid chaos.'
'Savages with a few decent vineyards, so I hear,' Lokan commented.
Sempes turned towards his peer and said scornfully, 'They have good ground, but barely a clue what to do with it. They find it easier to raid Farlan lands than to farm their own.'
Isak raised a hand before Lokan could open his mouth to retort. He knew the two had disputes of their own. 'These are details that can be worked out later,' he said firmly. He rose and went to the door, poking his head outside to catch Tila's eye. She was talking softly with the bodyguards, but at Isak's gesture she made her apologies and hurried out.
'You expect us to take it on faith that this will all be resolved?'
Sempes said, guessing that Isak was having his choice of duke summoned.
'I do. The only thing that remains is for you both to meet Major Ankremer. You need to be satisfied that he is strong enough to keep hold of the ducal circlet.'
'Does he know why he's here?'
Isak shook his head. 'No, he believes this is part of Cardinal Disten's investigation, but I'm confident you will both find him satisfactory, then we can tell him the good news.'
The Duke of Perlir stood, his cheeks colouring. 'The last three negotiations I have had with your Chief Steward ended in chaos. The man is unstable and unreasonable. I have no reason to think this one will turn out any differently, so I fail to see how I can give my approval of this bastard's legal recognition for no tangible reason – quite aside from the fact that this is a dangerous precedent to set. Bastards have never had any legal claims and now you want to hand a duchy to one?'
Isak closed the door and approached the table. There was no conciliation on his face now; he was done with being friendly. 'You'll do so because I tell you to. I have instructed Lesarl to ensure a fair resolution is reached, but have no illusions; there will be Farlan deaths this year. My concern is not the delicate balance of relations within the tribe; it's surviving to see the next winter festival. I need your support most especially now that the cults have become militant, but you shouldn't expect me to worry over-long about the consequences of having you both killed.'
He pulled the door open again to reveal a heavyset man of some thirty summers wearing the red and black uniform of an officer in the Lomin legions. Isak caught sight of a tangled mess of curly brown hair and a glum expression – before the surprise at seeing an enormous white-eye took over.
'Good evening, Major Belir,' Isak said smoothly, guessing the man was like the commander of his own guard; Major Ansayl went by his first name, Jachen. He preferred not to use his surname.
'Ah, my Lord,' the major replied in a daze before he dropped to one knee, 'good evening.'
'Enough of that – come in and have a drink with us.'
'Us?' Ankremer repeated in confusion. He took a half-step inside and saw the two dukes waiting at the table. He narrowed his eyes to make out the devices on the breast of each. Lokan's Kraken badge was as distinctive as the Perlir Reaper's Scythe. 'My Lords,' he said, bowing to both. Suddenly he froze, looking from the dukes to Isak and back. 'Oh Gods, you're joking.'
Isak clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. ' 'You're joking, my Lord',' he corrected with a chuckle, 'but aside from that, I'm afraid not.'
CHAPTER 11
Isak opened the door and stopped. He could feel the hostility in the air before he had even entered his chambers. 'Bickering again?' he asked.
Xeliath and Horman glared at Isak as he entered. They reclined on sofas either side of the fire, covered by thick quilts bearing Isak's emerald dragon crest. Xeliath was familiar with her condition and knew how best to make herself most comfortable, especially now her strength had returned. Horman was still not used to being disabled – his remaining hand, which Isak had broken in the Temple of Death in Scree, had not healed well, and was of less use than Xeliath's.
After a moment of irritation Xeliath's face softened and Isak felt the radiance of her smile wash over him. 'How handsome you look,' she said in Farlan, and Isak had to fight the urge to blush like a boy. He was impressed at her command of the language already, and it was growing stronger every day.
