Fate's Ransom(The First Argentines #4)

This was not his only blunder. His treatment of Ransom’s sister, Maeg, whom he threatened years ago, before she married James, was not an isolated act. Jon-Landon has done the same to other ladies, and we’ve even heard reports that he’s tried to seduce some of the wives of his nobles, including Lady Kiskaddon. Again, it feels like he is deliberately provoking his nobles to revolt so that he can depose them. His indiscretions have no doubt alienated his father-in-law as well. Whether the queen hears of these mischiefs, I cannot say.

One of the ways the king has tried to restore the treasury of the realm is through a practice called scutage. Every knight owes his lord a certain service each year for the king’s wars. Instead of sending troops to fulfill this commitment, a lord can pay a fine to the king, allowing him to hire mercenaries instead. Jon-Landon pays the mercenaries less than the amount he raises in scutage, so he profits off each payment. The treasury, which was practically emptied to pay Benedict’s ransom, has now been generating consistent revenue because of the war we relentlessly fight.

Before Benedict died, our position was promising, and it appeared we would be victorious against Occitania. No more. We have fought for years, and we are no closer to victory. Neither are they. Tatton Grange was reduced to rubble in the conflict, and there is no fortress to protect the farms and grains. Estian still claims the duchy as his own, but Jon-Landon will not halt his attempts to reclaim it. It seems he is determined to scorch the earth so that neither side will be able to use it. The king’s spies, ruled by a wretched man named Bodkin, are everywhere, and the king doesn’t even fully trust them. He’s created a system of codes so complicated and difficult to remember that not even the king himself understands it anymore. In other words, he’s a complete and utter eejit.

Ransom spends most of each year running to and fro throughout Ceredigion, fighting the battles the king has fomented with his own servants while trying to keep our enemies at bay. My husband refuses to pay scutage. But the mercenaries haven’t been paid by the king in months and threaten to become a scourge themselves. The latest news I have from my husband is that he’s going to Beestone castle, where the king’s council has gathered to hear the latest news of the war. I’m glad to be so far away, for if Jon-Landon tried to woo me, I would probably threaten his privates with a dagger.

—Claire de Murrow, “Duchess” of Legault

Atha Kleah





CHAPTER THREE


Oath of Fealty


There was a weariness in Ransom’s bones that went deeper than the exhaustion of relentless riding and skirmishes. Never had loyalty to a king cost him so much and paid so little. Still, he had persisted, shutting down the king’s constant attempts to incite him into rebellion. Each time he had to visit the king, his stomach seized with dread, and he felt this same weariness sap his strength and dull his wits.

Beestone castle had been fortified during the last several years and represented a stronger hold against Occitanian incursions. The castle was built on a promontory with a thriving town at its base. As Ransom rode Dappled into the boundaries, he saw mercenaries everywhere, some too drunk to walk straight. The lack of discipline was appalling.

Ransom slowed his destrier and looked to Dearley, who rode with him. The other man had started out as his ward, many years ago, but he was now Ransom’s most steadfast companion, and he and his wife, Lady Elodie, were dear friends to Ransom and Claire. In this king’s reign, Ransom had found it more important than ever to surround himself with people he trusted. He had also brought Sir Simon of Holmberg back to Glosstyr, where he oversaw the training of new knights. Ransom’s mesnie had grown over the years, and he no longer knew every man by name. But the cost of supporting so many had taken its toll. His expenses had risen substantially to outfit his host for constant, needless war, yet he received no new income from the king to compensate him for the additional costs. Other lords had given in to the demands to pay scutage, but not Ransom. He refused to resort to the practice, particularly since Simon had told him the king was profiting from it. It rankled Ransom to his core.

“If Estian attacked Beestone, he’d do a lot of damage right now,” Dearley said with resentment in his voice. “Do you want me to find their captain and rebuke him?”

“He’s probably drunk himself,” Ransom said. “Let’s get to the castle and see how things are going elsewhere.”

“Do you think the king will consider Estian’s offer of a two-year truce?”

“I don’t know,” Ransom answered. The thought of calling off hostilities was a welcome one. But Jon-Landon was too unpredictable for him to judge how the king would react to it.

“I hope he does,” Dearley said. “Estian has offered us Josselin castle as a sign of good faith. I should very much like to see it again.”

Given that it was Ransom’s castle, he suspected this was Estian’s attempt to give Ransom motivation to back the peace deal. They’d come so close to reclaiming it years ago, just before Jon-Landon had taken over as king, but the effort had failed without Ransom and his men.

“As would I,” Ransom said. “But I don’t trust Estian. Nor should you. He doesn’t keep his promises.”

“Neither does our king,” Dearley said under his breath.

Ransom gave him a scolding look, and Dearley looked away, abashed. Still, as unwise as it was to say such a thing aloud, there was no denying it was true. Jon-Landon was not the kind of king who encouraged greatness in his followers—if anything, the opposite was true. Men like Faulkes, who was brave if power hungry, were encouraged to pursue their basest impulses, and loyalty was not rewarded unless it came from a favorite. Favorites were chosen capriciously and changed often.

They took the road up the hillside to the castle, arriving at the gates, where the guards at least looked more alert. Ransom had traveled with fifteen of his knights, and Dearley took command to find them a place to bed down. The courtyard was crowded with baggage carts and horses. A flag bearing the Triple Lion hung listlessly from its pole. Ransom tugged off his gloves and stuffed them in his belt. His tunic was dust-spattered, and the links of metal in his hauberk jangled as he walked into the castle. It was dusk, and the smell of cooking venison made his stomach growl.

When he reached the great hall, he took in the celebratory atmosphere—the sound of lutes and pipes, the sight of a juggler performing feats of acrobatics to entertain everyone. He paused at the entryway to see who else was present. Faulkes, the new duke of Southport, was there, nibbling on a fleshy bit of bone, a serving girl trapped on his lap. Whenever she tried to stand, he kept pulling her down. It made Ransom want to punch him in the face. The ambitious captain had won a seat in the king’s council through his flattery and machinations. Ransom still held a seat on the council, but he wasn’t the favorite, and the king never lost an opportunity to communicate as much. The constant action in the field also kept him away from the palace for long stretches of time.

Duke Kiskaddon was also there, looking bleary-eyed and disdainful with a goblet in his hand. When one of the king’s dogs came snuffling by his feet, he gave it a quick jab with the tip of his boot. His gesture wasn’t noticed by the king, whose attention was fixed on a woman with a plunging bodice seated near him. Ransom didn’t recognize her, but she looked uncomfortable. The queen was still at Kingfountain, the king’s antics likely unknown to her. Then Ransom spied Lady Deborah hastening toward the door to join him.

She was a diminutive woman with graying hair. Although shrewd enough not to gainsay the king too often, she always gave him worthy advice.

“I’m glad you’re here, Lord Ransom,” she said. “Do you come with news from Estian?”

“I do,” Ransom said, looking at her in surprise.

“An Espion arrived this morning with word that an Occitanian herald had been to your camp yesterday. The king wondered if you were dealing treacherously. He was about to order his knights to summon you, but I persuaded him that you’d come on your own. Thank you for proving me right.” She gave him a relieved smile.