The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [106]
“I very much appreciate your hospitality, Your Grace,” Voran said. “Besides my lawsuit, I need to discuss a small matter with you, so it can be settled before I go back to Cerrgonney. I’ll be negotiating with Envoy Garin of the Mountain Folk. About Lord Honelg’s old dun—is it ready to be settled upon whomever their council’s chosen to man it?”
“It is, Your Highness,” Ridvar said. “I left a fortguard there over the winter to repair and maintain the place. Lord Blethry had my scribe draw up the necessary documents, which you can take with you, if you’d be so kind, to deliver them to the envoy.”
“Splendid!” Voran saluted him with his goblet. “My hearty thanks! That’ll give us a fixed point where we can start drawing the border.”
“Which reminds me. Lin Serr’s envoy sent letters for you here, Your Highness,” Ridvar said. “Do you have a scribe with you?”
“I do, my thanks. I have a letter for you as well, this one from the high priest in Dun Deverry, official seal and all. It authorizes you to take action against Govvin.”
“Good. Then we’re on firm legal ground in this matter.”
Gerran had his own legal matter on his mind, but he hesitated to bring it up so soon after Voran’s arrival. After that evening’s formal dinner in the great hall, he sought out Salamander and asked his advice.
“Well, you want to do it soon,” Salamander said. “Before Govvin arrives for the gwerbret’s malover, because that will take precedence, of course. On the other hand, you don’t want to push yourself forward too strongly.”
“I just hope that Ridvar isn’t insulted or suchlike because I’m taking the matter to the justiciar instead of him.”
“He won’t be, because you’re no longer a vassal of his vassal. That’s another thing justiciars are good for, truly, to preside over matters between folk who owe loyalty to different overlords, or in our case, to an entirely different royal line.”
“I see. So it all comes down to how to approach Voran.”
“Just so.” Salamander thought for a moment. “I know! I’ll write a note asking him when he as justiciar can hear your question. I’ll get some ink and pabrus from Neb.”
“Ink and what?”
“Pabrus. It’s a writing material made of water reeds. The Westfolk in Mandra make it as trade goods, and it’s much cheaper than parchments and vellum.”
Salamander wrote the note standing at the servants’ hearth, and Clae delivered it to Voran’s scribe, who was lingering at table with Lords Oth and Blethry. The scribe in turn read it silently, then left his seat and rushed over to Salamander. Gerran could see them talking, heads together. The scribe kept waving the pabrus in the air as if he thought it a great marvel, as indeed he did, according to Clae.
“It’s peculiar stuff, my lord,” Clae told Gerran. “It’s thin and crackly. Neb told me that it takes ink really well.”
“Well, the scribes would know, I suppose,” Gerran said. “I just hope he doesn’t forget to tell the prince about my question.”
Apparently the scribe did remember the message. After the morrow’s breakfast, Prince Voran summoned Gerran to the table of honor. Salamander, who seemed to have appointed himself Gerran’s second in the matter, tagged along. They both knelt beside the prince’s chair.
“My scribe tells me that you have a matter to lay before me, Lord Gerran,” Voran said. “The gwerbret has given me leave to use his chamber of justice, where indeed he’s waiting for us.”
“My humble thanks, Your Highness,” Gerran said. “May I call Lord Oth as a witness to this matter?”
“Indeed you may.” Voran turned in his chair and summoned a waiting page. “Have Oth and my scribe join us in the chamber of justice.” He rose and beckoned