Ordermaster

XXXIX

Kharl had just finished trimming the chime on a white oak barrel and was blotting his forehead when he noticed Speltar standing in the doorway to the cooperage, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Lord Kharl?”

“Come in, Speltar. It’s a cooperage, not a bedchamber or a study. When I’m working here, just come inside. I may have to finish something, but there’s no reason for you to stand outside.”

As he stepped into the cooperage, Speltar lifted a square of heavy paper with a florid purple wax seal on one edge. “I have a missive from ser Arynal. His man is waiting for a response.”

A response? “What do you know of Arynal?” Kharl had run across the name, but he didn’t know where. He was fairly sure that Arynal had not been among the collaborators with the rebels, but he couldn’t recall why he would have known a lord’s name.

“He holds the lands to the north and west of yours, ser …”

That was where Kharl had seen the name, on the maps that Speltar had gone over with him almost a season earlier.

“ … He is a minor lord, most properly.”

“Like me?”

“Ah … ser. If I read the proclamation correctly, you are a lord of the upper level.”

“Proclamation?” Kharl hadn’t even realized that there was such.

“Oh, yes, ser. I thought you knew. A lord or a grant must be proclaimed. I thought you had sent the proclamations to me. I have both theproclamation of your title as a lower lord-that was when you received Cantyl-and the one at the end of spring when you were elevated to an upper lord and received the new forest.”

“Hmmm …” Kharl recalled Lord Ghrant saying something about an upper lord, but he had paid more attention to the grant of the lands. Then, abruptly, he recalled Ghrant and several others addressing him as Lord Kharl. He’d passed that off as a compliment, but he should have known that Ghrant would not have addressed him as such through courtesy. Again … it showed what he didn’t know and the subtleties of lordship. The deliberate use of the term lord by Lord Ghrant would have been so obvious to any lord, lower or upper, and Kharl hadn’t even noticed what it had meant. “What’s the advantage of being an upper lord? Is there one?”

“Well … ser … if you do something wrong, like murder, they have to behead you, rather than hang you.” A faint smile crossed the steward’s face.

Kharl laughed. “Is that all?”

“You have the right to administer low justice on your lands.”

“For minor things, like theft?”

“If the theft is less than ten golds.”

That wasn’t such a small amount, Kharl reflected.

“And you have to supply services or armsmen to the Lord of Austra.” Speltar’s smile turned wry. “At times, in the past, the Lord of Austra has elevated lords to the upper level only to require armsmen that the lord could not support.”

Kharl could see someone like Lord West doing that.

“In your case, that would not be a problem, I would judge,” Speltar added.

“Not any more of a problem than it already is.” Kharl gestured toward the missive. “I suppose I should read the letter.”

The steward extended it.

Kharl took it and broke the seal, carefully. He didn’t want purple wax on his new flag floor. The note within was short, if written in an elegant hand that was not Arynal’s, since the signature differed from the text.

Lord Kharl,

With the deepest respect, and begging your indulgence, I would like to call upon you late this afternoon to pay my respects to you.

I have not wished to impose upon you, but as your nearest neighbor thought that I should present myself and offer what information you might find useful.

Kharl looked up. “Does he expect supper?”

“That, or afternoon refreshments, would be in order.”

“Am I expected to invite his family?”

“His consort would be acceptable.” Speltar smiled.

“What you are telling me is that I should invite everyone. How many?”

“He has two consortable daughters, and a son who has already been consorted.”

Kharl took a deep breath. “Can Adelya handle that?”

“She would be upset, ser, if you thought otherwise.”

“Would you write a response that says that I would be happy to have them all for supper this evening? And tell Adelya to prepare as she sees fit.” Kharl shook his head. He could sense Speltar’s concealed laughter at the resignation in Kharl’s voice.

“She will be pleased that you’ve chosen to entertain, ser.”

“And you?”

“It is always beneficial to be on good terms with neighbors.”

Speltar’s words, once more, were dry.

“Are you telling me that Lord Julon was not always on the best of terms?”

“I would not know, not for certain, ser. There are stories, but one never can tell how true they might be, and I would not be the one to pass them on.”

Kharl laughed. “I have my answer. You are most astute, and most tactful, Speltar.”

Speltar did grin, if but for the briefest of moments. “And you, Lord Kharl, see more than most lords.”

To Kharl that was a frightening thought, because Speltar meant it. Kharl knew how much he missed. He’d even missed his own elevation. Part of that was because of his unfamiliarity with Austra, and part was because he hadn’t paid enough attention. “I fear for them, then.” He glanced around the cooperage, then toward the open doorway where the midmorning sun cast an oblong of light across the stone floor. “If you would write what is necessary and bring me a pen? Your writing will be far better than mine.”

“I can do that.” Speltar nodded slightly, then stepped away.

Kharl wanted to shake his head. He supposed he was fortunate to have few neighbors, or his lack of understanding of both lordly and Austran customs would have become much more apparent far earlier. He glanced around the cooperage. He could still get in most of a day’s work before bathing and changing into his magely finery, although he doubted it was as fine as whatever ser Arynal and his family might be wearing.

Then, he cautioned himself, Arynal and his consort might well be people he’d like. Certainly, Kharl had liked Hagen from the beginning. He’d just have to see about Arynal.