A Time of Exile - Katharine Kerr [51]
The scribe dipped a pen in an inkwell and wrote a few notes, the pen scratching painfully loud in the silence.
“Now, to turn to the remainder of the land under dispute,” Addryc said. “My lord Dovyn, the prince has offered you a compromise, land that you may settle upon farther north and east.”
“And why should I compromise?” Dovyn snapped. “Does he claim every bit of land in Eldidd?”
Melaudd forgot himself enough to slap his son on the shoulder, but the damage was done. Halaberiel rose and looked the young lad over.
“My lord, I own nothing,” Halaberiel said, “any more than any noble lord of your people owns the land lent to him by the gods. The only property that either of us may claim with any certainty is the six feet of land that your kin will use to bury you someday, and the single tree that my kin will cut to burn me in that same future. There is, however, land that the People use, and land that we never travel upon. I merely suggest to your arrogant soul that you might take land that’s of no use to other men and thus spare us all a good deal of trouble.”
Dovyn flushed a scarlet red. Halaberiel sat back down and looked the prince’s way.
“My prince Halaberiel.” Addryc shot a nervous glance at Melaudd. “I’ve explained the laws of Eldidd to you. If you wish to make certain your claim to this hunting preserve is honored by our laws, then you must be in residence upon the land for a certain portion of every year. A man who lets land lie unused forfeits all claims to it.”
“I understand, and it’s a sensible ruling in its way. You’ll find me there every spring.”
“Done, then.” Addryc turned to Melaudd. “My lord, there is land for the taking just north of your demesne along the banks of the Gwynaver. May I ask why your son didn’t put in a claim to that empty land?”
“Because he wanted to settle on the lakeshore, Your Highness,” Melaudd said. “There aren’t any settlements on the lakes, and it’s rich land and a strong defensive position.” He shot Halaberiel a daggered glance. “The day may come when Your Highness wishes there were a strong and loyal dun there.”
Addryc blinked twice. The priest looked as if he were silently praying.
“And I’ll say something else, by your leave,” Melaudd went on. “I’ve never heard of Westfolk having kings until we received your message, and I’ll wager you never did either. It strikes me as strange that you’d turn away from the men who’ve served you loyally for so long in favor of a stranger.”
“And have I turned away from you yet?” Addryc said levelly. “I have yet to pronounce my judgment.”
Abashed, Melaudd looked away.
“My prince.” Addryc turned to Halaberiel. “I’m considering asking you to surrender land for Dovyn’s demesne at the lakeshore. In return, I’ll grant you and your people a clear, formal, and indisputable title to the land along the west bank of the Gwynaver. With my seal upon the charter, this matter will never rise again. The burying ground and the north shore of the lake will be yours. The south shore and a dun at the river’s mouth will be Dovyn’s. All the land between the lake and the Gwynaver will be yours to hunt in or to fortify as you think fit.”
“With Bears on the south shore, fortification might be in order,” Halaberiel said. “Your Highness, I realize that this is a difficult judgment for you. You have offered a generous settlement, one which I’m minded to take. On the other hand, I have vassals just as you do. No one among my people will give up the south shore easily—I warn you. You’re sitting there squirming, wondering if your lords will cause you trouble if you favor me. I’m sitting here squirming just as hard, wondering what my people will think of me if I take this bargain. Do you understand?”
It was so high-handed, foreign, and utterly honest that the councillors and priests gasped aloud. Addryc leaned back in his chair and sighed, running his fingers over the hilt of the ornate ceremonial sword—he understood all too well. Halaberiel