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the sheep, and the granaries were all Lord Brysaulin’s passion. There are no names in his report, let alone tally of weapons. It was not my father’s policy to gather the names in the fall, nor the account of weapons. After two months of searching, sending scribes hither and yon, and the waiting, my Lord Chancellor has gathered for me a complete account of fields, of grain and granaries down to the half measure, and of the cattle of whatever age, oh, far more complete than my father was wont, but omitted the weapons, as something done two years ago, which he deemed accurate enough, and it was not my father’s policy to gather the names and the strength of the muster until spring. So the recording of all beasts of whatever age, with houses and granaries has every semblance of a tax assessment! The lords are uneasy with the king’s apparent interest in their revenues, how not? and how am I to know these men’s resources if I have no names or tallies? Is it Uta Uta’s-son still over Magan village in Panys, or has the old man died this summer and is his foolishly indolent and dastard son in charge, who will be devil a use when Lord Maudyn musters troops next spring? My father never inquired into such matters for reasons I leave to my father; but I do as my grandfather did, and with a war to fight, I think it reasonable to know the men of account in the villages as I know their lords, because I think it reasonable in me as king to know what sort of men my barons look to for their resources! I think it is of concern to the Crown whether a village be well led or indifferently led or led by an utter fool! I rely on such information when I rely on Panys to advance or to hold his entire contingent; and I will not do in my reign as the Lord Chancellor finds convenient, or face a set of barons inflamed by suspicions my Lord Chancellor has stirred up with his only half-following my orders!—And I want an entire tally of wagons, their kind as well as their number!”
    He was not speaking to some child…but to the Lady Regent of Elwynor across the river, a sovereign in her own right. And against a wall of obstinate, self-interested Guelen opposition to his will, the Lady Regent of Elwynor was a calm, sweet, sure, and unassailable voice on his side. “He will simply have to obtain the names and weapons and the rest of it, my lord, and that will correct the impression he might have given.”
    â€œThe snow will fall and we’ll be holding muster in blizzards! Pray, is that a man, sir, or a snowdrift?”
    â€œThere is still time, adequate at least to amend the list.”
    â€œAnd with a list I wanted done with no extraordinary fuss! Secrecy was my aim. Quiet proceedings. —Come with me. We’ll flee to Marisal, break a bowl together and set ourselves up as simple farmers.”
    The Lady Regent must not, by treaty, attempt to advise him in the monarchy of Ylesuin: the marriage contract had stipulated likewise that he would not intervene in Elwynor.
    It was a noble notion of dual reigns over two allied realms, give or take the inconvenient fact that her capital across the river was threatened by rebels. But besides all other reasons, they loved each other…at least…they were hoping to love one another: at this early date they were merely, hopelessly, smitten.
    To all of this the maids and ladies-in-waiting demurely listened, so solemn, so seemingly occupied with their stitching; and if their being within earshot served him and her at all well, the ladies would gossip back to their brothers and fathers that the king had no intention of a tax, that Lord Brysaulin had bungled the accounts, that it was indeed wagons and village musters at issue.
    And if they were uncommonly efficient at their talebearing, why, the king and his intended might even enjoy their harvesttide ale without conspiracy, or at least with the buzzing of some entirely new false and utterly inane rumor, of a