The Elder Lands
Chapter 63

By the beginning of summer, things had gotten worse. Two months had passed by with the Walis receding further and further. Now, there was no doubt that the hay harvest was ruined, unless the sky decided to loose a flood on their heads.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the last of their ill tidings. A merchant had come crying foul after Sir Ward’d imposed a ruinous toll on him. Thomas was now telling him and his father of another such complaint. It seemed that all the merchants that’d used their road to the northeast in the past fortnight had suffered from this toll to some extent.

They were seated around his father’s desk in the study and the knight sighed at Thomas’s words. “So Ward summons trouble again.”

“What should we do, Father?” Lucan said. “This will hurt our eastward trade. The merchants need to come and go to the Union smoothly if we’re to maintain our measure of trade. And with the drought, the harm he is bringing us is twofold.”

“He’s grasping for whatever he can,” his father said. “Everyone is at times like these.”

“Can we talk reason to him?” Lucan said.

His father snorted. “Ward isn’t one for reason except when it serves him.”

“Can we do something then?” Lucan said.

His father shook his head. “He has more men, and we’ve only begun to be of comparable wealth lately. He also has many more friends than we do. If I’m not wrong, he’s recently gotten closer to Arpague.”

“Perhaps we may persuade him to lower the toll to something reasonable,” Thomas said. “We only need it to be something bearable for the merchants.”

“There’s no harm in trying,” Sir Golan shrugged.

“We need to do it today, Father,” Lucan said. “Every day he keeps imposing that senseless expense on the merchants is a strike to a reputation we have only just begun to build.”

His father nodded. “Let us ride to his estate now then.”

They hastily donned proper clothing and no armor, since riding there in the latter would carry meaning. Going like this would assure Sir Ward that they were there to make amicable conversation.

They sent for their horses to be prepared, and while marching down the hallways of the keep, they met Lilian who simply curtsied to his father and favored him with a smile, though she couldn’t hide the inquiring look on her face.

“Won’t be long,” he whispered to her as they passed.

The ride to Sir Ward’s estate was mostly uneventful, except for what they saw once they reached the end of the road Lucan had built beyond the bridge. There, they saw that Sir Ward had extended it with his own road into his territory. It was more shoddily made, but it was flat and solid enough to support heavy wagons.

“This complicates matters,” Thomas said.

“Yes,” his father said.

“Why?” Lucan asked.

Before they could answer him, they saw two riders coming towards them. It seemed that they had been expected.

The two riders were armored men-at-arms who hailed them. His father came to a stop, and Lucan and Thomas followed him.

The men-at-arms trotted towards them and made to talk but his father spoke over them and they grew quiet at his heavy voice. “I’m here to speak to your sire, not you. Go fetch him.”

The two men didn’t seem happy with his words, but one of them turned around and rode away nonetheless.

They waited a considerable amount of time before they saw the knight approaching on the horizon. He wore clothes as they did, and he was accompanied by the man-at-arms sent to fetch him and a softer-looking man that Lucan assumed was his steward.

When the knight arrived, he began with a jab instead of a greeting. “I had a feeling the winds would blow mongrels my way this spring. It’s good that I posted sentries, eh?” He nodded meaningfully at his father as he mouthed the insult, then he nodded at his men with the last word.

“Need their protection, do you?” his father returned the jab momentarily, nodding at the two men-at-arms that still flanked Sir Ward, then glancing back at Lucan and Thomas who were obviously unarmed. Lucan was beginning to think that there was more to this than what he knew.

Sir Ward’s face darkened and he gestured angrily with his head. The men-at-arms heeded his unspoken command and left them, riding into the distance, though Lucan knew they wouldn’t be too far to call back.

“Word has reached me that you’ve imposed a toll on all tradesmen passing by?” Sir Golan said.

“As is my right,” Sir Ward said.

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Sir Ward’s steward decided to speak then, and Lucan noticed that he was older than he’d appeared from a distance, though he was still younger than Thomas. “As per the king’s law, should a ‘proper’ road range over a vassal’s fief, then the vassal may impose a toll of passage if they have borne the expense of the road’s establishment or if otherwise permitted by the king.”

Thomas was quick to respond to his counterpart. “That’s not all there is to it. One must also apprise the king of their imposition of a toll should the throne not be aware. With how fast you’ve imposed this one, I doubt the king has been apprised of it yet.”

“The missive is already inked, and a courier will be riding to Eldham today,” the steward said.

“All inevitable tolls, by land or water, must be permitted by the king before being imposed,” Thomas insisted.

“Merchants may use the king’s road should they wish to avoid passing through Sir Ward’s territory,” the steward said. “Sir Zesh’s fief is reachable by the road due west. Our road is certainly not an inevitable one.”

Thomas grew quiet only for a moment then said, “Per the king’s right to all tolls and passages, any toll imposed through the aforementioned law must be taxed for the throne’s benefit.”

The steward showed them a faint smile within which even a child could see malice. “Of course a tribute is being tallied from this toll to be presented to the king.” He glanced at his sire who grit his teeth.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Sir Ward said, quieting both of them. “A toll is imposed on my land. That is of no concern to you, Zesh.”

“Don’t play the fool,” Lucan’s father said. “You know it is of much concern to my estate.”

“I will not yield it,” Sir Ward said. “Don’t tire yourself out for nothing.”

“Then lower it to something reasonable,” Sir Golan said. “Don’t ruin the whole route for yourself and us.”

There was a pause, during which one might imagine that the concerned parties were thinking, but for some reason, Lucan couldn’t see contemplation on Sir Ward’s face, only contempt.

After the meandering quiet, one word echoed in their ears.

“No.”

Sir Ward’s eyes were meeting his father’s, and an unseen battle seemed to be taking place there. Then, as abruptly as the word had been spoken, his father turned his steed around and began riding back to their estate.

Lucan and Thomas had no choice but to follow. After they’d gained some distance, Lucan spoke. “Father, is that all?”

“He won’t change his mind,” his father said. “He’s all too glad to spite me.”

“That…” Lucan said. “Why is that, Father?”

His father glanced at him and stayed silent as they rode.

“What grudge is there between you,” Lucan persisted.

A sigh that might as well have been growl escaped his father. “Years ago, my father betrothed me to his sister without my knowledge. She was a sweet girl, but I had not chosen her and it was not to be. I broke the betrothal, perhaps a little rashly instead of properly.”

“This was before you met Mother?” Lucan asked.

“I was not too happy with Father nor with the betrothal after I was told of it,” his father said. “But I only broke it after I met your mother.”

Lucan nodded slowly.

“Ward challenged me to a duel. He felt his sister and their family were slighted by what I did.”

Lucan gazed patiently at his father.

“He lost.”

“And not a very dignifying loss,” Thomas added from the side.

His father looked at Thomas as though betrayed then he sighed and glanced at Lucan. “I might have been provoked by Ward’s taunts and insults that day. As you’ve seen, he’s not very well-mannered. And at that age, I was not very patient.”

“I see,” Lucan said.

“We will have to bear with it,” his father said. “At least for now.”

“Or we might seek royal arbitration,” Thomas said.

“That would take too much time to matter,” his father said. “The merchants will be avoiding Ward’s estate by then.”

“Lilian’s father will be returning from the east sometime this summer,” Lucan said. “If he’s not told of this, his caravan could suffer a significant loss.”

His father glanced at Thomas.

The steward took a breath, giving himself room to think. “We may be able to send someone to warn him. And making every merchant going east a messenger for this matter would be wise too.”

“Word already spreads among them like a hay fire,” Lucan said. “We won’t need to charge them with passing it on.”

His father nodded. “Then the matter with Maris is handled. As for the rest of it, like I said, we bear with it.”

“We might not have to,” Lucan said, gazing at the distant hills to the west. They were north of the canal branch outside of their territory, but they also didn’t border Sir Ward’s territory. Perhaps the venture in his mind would work, perhaps not. But there would be no harm in trying, considering their circumstances.

His father was looking at him quizzically.

“I’m not certain yet.”

His father hummed his acceptance. The knight was anything but impatient.

With his father’s leave, Lucan split up with them after they crossed the bridge. He followed the northern canal to the fishermen’s lake once more. There, he saw that more of the spire could be seen, much larger than the slight part they’d seen before. Other parts of the structure were even peeking out of the water separately around the spire. Lucan was growing less and less certain that they could keep this quiet. He turned his steed around and rode home. Even with this bit of trouble on the horizon, he had other pressing matters to attend to.

“So?” Lucan said. He and Sawyer were on their horses, now watching the hills north of the estate. They’d discreetly crossed the northern canal branch and followed it west until they drew close to the hills.

“I believe I can. But–”

“It will be costly,” Lucan continued for him. “Even I can tell as much.”

Sawyer gave him a rueful smile and nodded. “It won’t be an easy venture, but I can have it done soon if all workers are spared.”

“You will have them,” Lucan said. “At least most of them. Anything may be delayed, except for the granary.”

“The rest will do,” Sawyer affirmed. Then he smiled and gazed at the distance. “A winding road through the hills. Something to truly test my skills.”

Lucan looked askance at him.

Sawyer raised a mollifying hand. “I’m confident in said skills.”

Lucan snorted and shook his head. “Build the road, no matter what.”

“I will,” Sawyer said, his tone aggrieved. “Why must you doubt me now?”

“I am not,” Lucan said. “I’m simply charging you with making this road, no matter the circumstances. I won’t accept failure.”