Ancient Kings (The Young Ancients) (31 page)

"It will be done, Counselor Baker. If you would all be so good as to follow me?"

The hallways were just as twisty and convoluted as he remembered them, but they were going to the main audience chamber it seemed, which was one of three or four places Tor was almost certain he could have found on his own in the place. His house was as big, most of the time, but not designed to hide things, which he was nearly certain this place had been. Probably in case of attack.

So of course having all their enemies in to visit regularly made great sense, given that. It was tradition though, so it had to be done. That was the rule at least.

He expected to be left waiting for an hour and a half, but the doors opened instantly and they were all asked to enter, walking in a double line, looking almost professional and like they'd planned it all. There were no marching feet sounds or music, but they hadn't had long enough to work that out. On the good side their lack of plan meant the new volunteers didn't seem out of place at all.

The room was lined with large chairs, ones that seemed almost like miniature thrones. At the front of the room, on the far side, down a large deep red carpet, sat the King, with Alphonse directly to his right. It looked a little off, since Rich was on a pedestal, making him very easy to see. It would have looked pretty intimidating if Tor hadn't seen most of the people before in different places.

Rich actually lounged though, as if they were just expected. One thing was pretty different, in that Smythe of Westend sat off to his left and behind him just a bit. He was dressed in all black, like a military man. Tor wasn't all that different, to tell the truth, though his outfit looked to be made of velvet instead of canvas. His trousers didn't get a stripe either. He wasn't in the Lairdgren Group after all.

"Ah, Counselor of Magic Baker. So good of you all to join us. In such a timely fashion as well. A most amazing thing. I think there were several bets placed saying you couldn't possibly get here before the evening meal. Here we are some four and a half hours before that. I should have placed my own wager. Alphonse, I believe you did, how did that fare?"

"Oh, very well. I believe Count Isle owes me a silver. I said that it would be half an hour, he wagered fifty minutes. I do think he was factoring in a break to pick up snacks however. Or was it tea?" He actually looked over at a slightly bemused old man that held a gentle smile and a walking stick in his hands. It had a silver handle on the top of jet black wood and felt old, even from a distance. His voice was aged and cracked, but sounded mirthful enough.

"Tea. I see I was being a foolish old man again, thinking that today's youth was soft, and sought their own comfort first. Well, never too aged to learn, are we?" For all that the man was making himself seem a bit doddering, that so clearly wasn't the case that it poured from his field. Oh, he wasn't ready to run any races, but Tor didn't doubt the man was mentally sharper than most in the room by far.

The King nodded regally, that being his job, and gestured to the others behind him.

"I recognize a few, but some faces are new, perhaps introductions are in order?"

He smiled, and tried to remember the names from earlier, hoping that he wouldn't get anything too far wrong.

"Master Builder Fines, who is the new head of the Lairdgren Group, and his first assistant, Master Builder Roberts. Then we have Baron Mark Sorenson, and Conserina Farlo Ross. They're in charge of the new section of builders. Behind them are Attaché Sam Builder and..." He didn't let himself think about it too long, since he had no idea what he was going to say next, but didn't want anyone to think that the others didn't sound grand enough. "Guide Eastgreen, who's our liaison to Vagus. They have a new building program over there that's doing well, I hear."

He didn't know that at all, but a man sitting halfway back on the right side of the room, who was pretty tall and had a mustache along with nice clothing interjected something then, which was probably rude, but no one seemed to think it was worth calling him on it. The words weren't
bad
or anything, so Tor didn't either.

"Indeed they do. I have several healing items made by their mages. That's what they call them there. Good work, all done on stone, and for a fair price. That we have people working with them already is excellent news."

Tor nodded a few times, liking the sound of it himself.

"Next in line we have Conserina Derring, Alyssa Baker. Followed by..." He nearly got lost then and had to use a trick he'd learned a few years back to recall what he'd heard earlier. Two of the girls only had one name, like Sam and Guide had originally, so he filled that in, hoping what he picked wasn't too annoying to them. They sounded normal enough to his ear, if a little plain. No one acted like it was out of the ordinary at least and when he was done he gave a polite half bow, to the King. Everyone else just stood, not knowing what to do at all, since it was outside of the normal pattern.

"We stand ready to serve." He left it at that, and the King clapped a few times.

"Wonderful! We won't keep you all waiting, but you must stay to have dinner with us. I know that Connie will love to have you all. Alphonse, could you see to our guests comfort? Tor, if you and Master Builder Fines would stay? We'll need two more chairs..." He made a gesture that seemed nearly bored, which got two servants to run in with the needed seats. They were both large men, and the chairs themselves were settled in different locations. Tor was shown to the front one, to the left hand of Smythe, with Fines being placed behind him and to his left. There was no one between him and the wall, with an old woman sitting in the first chair off to the side and a bit in front of them. A Countess, clearly, but not one that Tor knew. She sneered at him when she caught him looking her way, so he smiled politely.

She might just have gas or something after all. The lady hid her face behind a large fan, her blue and white dress looking fairly pretty, but like it needed to be on a girl of twenty, not a woman that had granddaughters that age. At least the Countess looked away after a bit, so he scanned the room, looking for any possible friendly faces. There were a few at least.

One was right across from the woman next. Burks. His grandfather. The man looked sharp, and too young to be sitting near the front of the room, since they were very clearly going by age, since the ranks were all about the same really, except the King and his heir. His brother in-law Tovey was near the far end, with only one person between him and the door on the right side, Holly Printer and Ursula Thorgood were on the other side. The person next to Tovey was a rather small, very dark skinned girl that looked like a miniature version of Sandra Morris. Her sister, Tor thought. They'd never met, but she'd been offered to him for sex once, by her father, while he was trying to get some shields and other devices out of him. The girl was two years older now and still looked to be illegal by at least that much time. It was just as well that her father had been teasing at the time, or he would have had to kill him then.

Or maybe it wasn't that great of a thing. Sure, he would have died for doing it, but Tiera wouldn't be having problems with them now if it had happened.

There were a few moments of silence, and then people started yelling. It was about a trade agreement or something, but Tor couldn't make out what the problem was. The King was suggesting they ease trade tariffs, in light of the greater availability of faster trade, which meant that more goods were being shipped. The idea was that a lower price would increase that kind of thing.

The idea that he'd been supposed to pay tariffs on
anything
was a new one to Tor. He decided not to mention it, and just hope that his people were covering things like that as needed. Though he didn't have a lot of things that would be covered, it turned out. Only solid goods and food were in the agreement and he didn't have a lot of interests in those things. He didn't think.

Until a man he didn't know on the other side of the room, about a third of the way down, started to bluster about it.

"The new magically driven farming system in County Bonner is producing enough food to increase my revenues by nearly fifty percent in the last year. I don't suppose that your new Counselor being co-owner of the endeavor with your brother in-law has anything to do with this sudden desire for lower tariffs does it, Sire?" There was enough smarm to the words that Tor felt vaguely dirty about the whole thing, as if it were all his fault. He hadn't even known that he was in business with Duke Morgan at all. Plus, he owned farms, and they used magic? That must be in shipping and perhaps some kind of water management, since he didn't recall making anything else that might work for that kind of thing. Maybe earth moving equipment, to replace plowing? That should work, at least in theory, if used carefully enough.

Tor nearly spoke up then, but Cordes sent a single word into his mind, loudly.

'
Hush
.'

It was a little rude to say things like that, but the Ancient King just repeated the word and sent forward a thought that it might prove better to wait, since rising to bait almost always got you stuck in a trap.

What happened next was different than Tor would have dreamed, since instead of turning to talk about how he was clearly behind the whole thing and trying to make gold off of their backs, Count Isle cleared his throat, getting the whole room to go silent, so he could be heard.

"I believe that those farms have been being used solely to aid areas around the kingdom in need. A philanthropic activity. Counselor Baker has been paying the costs of the operation out of pocket. Are you certain you wish to begrudge him a slight easing of that burden Count Bonner? I remember a time when people wouldn't count every coin, if it were going to a good cause. Perhaps things have changed though?" He didn't look at anyone in particular when he said the words, but Count Bonner actually laughed at the man, instead of getting angry.

"Brilliant. Well, stuck my foot in it a bit then, didn't I? How was I supposed to know that? The gold comes in, and it's written in a ledger. Baron Bonner is quite happy with the situation. All those orphans given gainful employment. I suppose their care and upkeep comes from philanthropy as well?"

King Richard answered this time, his voice sounding remarkably pleased for some reason.

"They make enough coin to feed and care for themselves, actually, which is the point. I believe that Alyssa Baker came up with the idea, originally."

She had? When? This couldn't be a new thing or they wouldn't have had any crops coming in yet. Tor held his face still and tried not to seem shocked at all. Not even when a decent looking tall blonde woman near the far quarter of the room spoke up in a dreamy voice.

"Yes... Gretchen got me to help with that. She's ever so clever you know. Tall now too. Father was very cross when she ran away, but it was better for her, I know it was." There was a bit of strangeness to the words, but they trailed off after that and no one commented on it.

She must be Ali's oldest sister, Heidi. It seemed that the others hadn't been kidding when they talked of the horrible things that had been done to her. He hadn't heard it all, but she was the oldest and prettiest girl, so her monster of a father hadn't let her go, even after the rest managed to get out from under his thumb directly. It broke her, obviously.

The woman was family though, so Tor got ready to stand for her, if anyone tried to be mean about it. They weren't though, not at all. No one even pretended to be annoyed.

Count Bonner made a bit of a face, but only at the King and then snorted a bit, sounding cross.

"Alright, so Counselor Baker isn't trying to get rich at my expense, but I can't see how lowering the tariff rate by fifty percent will increase trade all that much. Perhaps ten percent? There has to be a line where things cross, doesn't there? Where doing too much lowers the return?"

The conversation didn't get a lot less heated, but they hammered out an agreement by the end of the session, lowering the rate by seven percent. It meant no one at all was happy, but it was a thing they could all agree with, and not lose sleep over. That it took that long to come to a simple agreement over what to charge people for the right to move goods around didn't make a lot of sense to him, but everyone else seemed to think it was brilliant work, coming to a conclusion in less than a day.

It was a bit after five when they were let out of the chamber, with most of the Counts and Countesses fairly running away from the place, probably so they wouldn't have to talk to one another on a one to one basis. The only two that were left were Count Thomson and Count Lairdgren, and the Ancient just nodded while gesturing for them to escape into the back room with the King. Smythe made a point of gesturing for Fines to come along too, his face friendlier than Tor was used to seeing it. At least when he was around. The man had a reputation for going out of his way to be kind and gentle with people, as long as they weren't Tor. Why that was, he'd never really been certain.

Probably just one of those personality conflict things.

The space looked like it had been re-purposed a bit in the last months, since Tor had been invited in. It had large chairs, but ones that were more comfortable and padded than the ones in the other room, with soft fabric covered pillows all over them and low tables to the left side of each, for drinks or papers. The color scheme was dark though, mainly in brown and black. The nice wooden tile walls had some kind of oil on them, which made the whole place smell very strongly of cedar, which wasn't unpleasant, but seemed a little odd for the space, which tended to scents like vanilla.