Douglas Niles: Measure and the Truth

Jaymes nodded and indicated the chairs that had been arrayed for them. The four men of Vingaard sat, and the emperor took his seat. General Weaver occupied the chair at his right hand, Captain Powell to his left. Lord Templar, the clerist, was the fourth member of the emperor’s party.

“It is impossible not to notice you have disregarded the government’s lawful requests for tax payments, as well as refusing to send recruits for the empire’s army,” Jaymes began. His tone was dry, almost bored, but his eyes bore a different intensity and never wavered from Kerrigan’s face. “My agents have addressed this lapse by letter and emissary for nearly twelve months, now. I regret that it became necessary for me to bring my army into the field. Now you find us before your gates, after a march of no little expense and inconvenience.”

“You’re not at our gates yet,” muttered Sir Blayne, drawing a sharp look from his father. Kerrigan cleared his throat gruffly, and returned the emperor’s even gaze.

“Wait,” Jaymes said, holding up his hand before the duke could speak. He glanced at the young knight, an almost-smile creasing his lips. “The only reason we are not at your gates, young sir, is that I do not want to kill your men unless I have to. Your regiment of pikes-and the hidden archers and swordsmen-in the grove across the stream wouldn’t stand for ten minutes under a concerted assault from my battle-hardened men. But we are here to talk because we hope such an attack won’t be necessary.”

The young knight flushed. His hand brushed the curl of his mustache, and his eyes attempted to bore holes in the emperor’s face. But he held his tongue.

“And, I trust, no attack will be necessary,” said Kerrigan smoothly. “Naturally, I anticipated that your scouting would be thorough; my men were there for you to discover them.

“But, Excellency,” he continued, “as I tried to explain to your emissaries-the burden you place on Vingaard is too heavy. Our economy is on weak footing, and our population is too small. To pay half the tribute you demand would be a hardship-to contribute half the recruits you require would be a terrible burden. To fully comply with your numbers would be to destroy all I have worked to build here. So I beseech you, Excellency, lower the numbers. Let us begin to work together.”

“It seems to me you have been rather fortunate, here in Vingaard.” The emperor gestured to the keep. Even ten miles away, it dominated their view with its lofty towers, the spires so slender they almost seemed to sway in the sky, defying gravity. “In the past few years, Garnet and Thelgaard have been captured and sacked by barbarian forces. Solanthus endured a siege of two years’ duration and a destructive battle of liberation. Caergoth has been transformed into an army and naval base of unprecedented proportion. Palanthas has filled the coffers of the empire with the steel of commerce, and at the same time it has contributed countless men to the ranks of the legion and the knighthood.”

He continued speaking, his eyes daring anyone to interrupt the emperor. “This magnificent road-the highway that runs almost past your fortress gate, that has opened trade routes to Kalaman and places as faraway as Neraka-is a tangible benefit of the new Solamnia. There are inns and wayhouses every mile, smiths working hard for the benefit of travelers-and all of them paying taxes into your treasury. While you, here in Vingaard, have farmed your farms, fished your river, and harvested your apples.”

Sir Blayne clenched his jaw with visible anger, while the flush spread upward from Kerrigan’s cheeks to fully encompass his brows and forehead. Even General Weaver, beside Jaymes, looked at his leader, who had adopted a sharp tone, askance.

The duke took a long moment to draw a breath and calm himself before responding. “Surely you are aware, Excellency, of the contributions made by the men of Vingaard during the campaign against the barbarian Ankhar! Our knights rode with the regiments of Crown and Sword and Rose-a hundred of my men fell in the crossing of the Vingaard, the very river that is our namesake! We were there when the siege of Solanthus was broken-we, too, bravely faced the fire giant in the Battle of the Foothills!”

Jaymes shrugged. “I am not disputing the sacrifices made by your men-they are as worthy, and no more so, than any other knightly unit. Est Sularus oth Mithas, naturally. But that was the story of wartime; this is a time of peace. And these figures are based on property, not men, and it is here that your realm has emerged without the scars that have marked these other places.”

“So you would destroy us with taxes and conscription?”

The emperor shook his head. “These contributions will not destroy you. They should make you stronger-they will make you stronger, for the larger nation needs your contribution of steel and men in order to restore its place as Krynn’s mightiest empire.”

“It is too much, I tell you!” declared Kerrigan, his voice rising almost to a shout.

“You refuse to pay? Still?”

“I cannot pay!”

Jaymes nodded. His eyes flicked to Sergeant Ian, commander of the Freemen, who stood with his small company off to the side of the council. “Then arrest these men now. I want all four of them clapped in irons.”

“Yes, sir!” replied the young knight, waving his men forward.

“This is an outrage!” cried Kerrigan, leaping to his feet, instinctively grasping for the hilt of the sword he wasn’t wearing. “You gave us your word that we would parley under a truce!”

Jaymes stood too, not cowed by the duke’s display of temper. “I changed my mind,” was all he said.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” Selinda said to Coryn as the guard closed the door behind the white-robed enchantress.

“Of course-I would have come at once, but I have been busy in Wayreth for the last ten days.”

Coryn the White embraced her friend, concern reflected in her dark eyes. The wizard’s black hair fell in a loose cascade over her shoulders and halfway down the back of her immaculate white robe. The silky material was embroidered with countless images in silver thread, and the magical sigils seemed to glimmer and gleam in the bright, sunlit room.

Selinda noticed, with surprise, that a few streaks of gray had begun to appear in those thick, dark tresses. But Coryn’s face was smooth and unlined, her features still those of a very young woman.

That was, except for her eyes. The enchantress, the Master of the White Robes, had seen much of the harshness of the world in recent years, and those experiences, Selinda could see, were taking a toll. She remained a very beautiful woman, but there was a maturity and sadness about her that Selinda saw more clearly than ever before.

“What is the news in the city and the land-of Jaymes… and Vingaard?” Selinda asked as the two women settled themselves on a settee beside one of the tall windows-not the pane with the angular crack running across it. The summer morning was balmy, and a slight draft of fresh air wafted from the open doors to the nearby balcony. “No one will tell me any real news, up here.”

“And are you stuck here? Are you not allowed to leave?” Coryn had heard the rumors but hadn’t credited them. She looked at the princess with upraised eyebrows.

Selinda felt the flush creep across her features, a mixture of humiliation and anger. She met her friend’s gaze and spoke quietly. “Jaymes-the emperor,” she amended bitterly, “says it’s because he doesn’t want anything to happen to his-our-baby.”

The wizard blinked and, unless it was Selinda’s imagination, she started, for a fraction of a second. Then a mask fell across Coryn’s face, but it didn’t cover her eyes-and those dark eyes, the princess realized, seemed terribly wounded.