Pierce, Tamora - Protector 03 by Squire

Author:Squire [Squire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-11-24T10:57:49+00:00

eleven

CLEON

The progress crawled south, then east. Kel discovered far more was planned than the introduction of the heir’s foreign bride-to-be and the production of noble spectacles. At the heart of every camp was a complex of tents where work was done: a new census, a survey of roads for a new, up-to-date map, and a study of local laws and medicines.

The progress also gave the Crown a means to discipline noble houses that had proved troublesome in the past. Fiefs Tirragen, Malven, Eldorne, and Sinthya all were invited to host the monarchs at extremely expensive banquets. Raoul, Kel, and two squads of Third Company got to carry those invitations to less-than-happy recipients.

On the road to Eldorne to deliver one such message, Kel asked, “Why do these fiefdoms have to pay? I thought the king’s careful not to burden the people he visits.”

“Except to create an example,” Raoul explained. “Gary - Gareth the Younger - calls it ‘obedience through poverty.’ See, Jon’s grandfather, King Jasson, started it when his wars doubled the realm’s size. He let most conquered nobles keep their lands. To make sure they would be good boys and girls, he went on progress and made them pay for everything. When he was done, they couldn’t afford handkerchiefs, let alone raise money to rebel. Jonathan is being restrained. He hopes that with just the knowledge of these four draining their treasuries to host us, others who might try the same thing will reconsider.” He glanced at Kel. “It isn’t just that a girl is a squire or that Joren got a fine for kidnapping a servant. We’re all part of a quiet war that’s taking place across the Eastern Lands.” To Lerant on his other side he said, “If your grandfather Eldorne waxes too outraged, tell him Barnesh in Maren is cancelling all of his nobles’ royal land grants. They have to petition him to retain their titles and estates, and they get to pay through the nose.” Lerant winced.

They delivered their remaining letters, then rejoined the progress near Fief Eldorne. Once again the train had set a proper camp under the Seneschal’s direction: they would be there for several days. Kel could see that preparations for a new tournament were underway. Riding to their part of the camp, she and Raoul wove in and out of a seemingly endless stream of servants, workmen, and vendors, all carrying burdens.

Raoul reined up to let a group pass them in wagons loaded with wood for building grandstands. “Kel, when do you want to start taking part in tournaments?”

The griffin snapped at Kel as she absently preened him with her fingers. “Wo,” she said firmly, smacking him rightly on the beak. “My lord, it seems a waste of time. Let’s face it, I haven’t beaten you, and I know your work in the saddle better than anyone’s. If I’m going to risk breaking my neck, I’d like to do it when I have a chance to win.”

Raoul began to chuckle. “Kel, I haven’t been unhorsed in, Mithros, a decade.

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