‘What did you do to him? Get to the point, Malon.’
‘Well, me Lady, we had this here miscreant as we didn’t think was really worth th’ effort o’ feedin’ an’ guardin’ all th’ way back t’ Muros, an’ we had this here rope as had just jerked ‘im out o’ his saddle, an’ there was all them lovely trees handy. Since everythin’ was there anyway, we took it as a sign from th’ Gods, so we hung ‘im right there on th’ spot.’
General Halbren burst out with a roar of laughter at that point.
‘I should probably tell yer Grace that he didn’t take it none too well,’ Malon continued. ‘He kept screamin’ that he was th’ Duke o’ Asturia, an’ that we couldn’t do this t’ him – but as it turned out, we could. If y’d like t’ see ‘im fer yerself, I could draw y’ a map, me Lady. Unless somebody’s happened across ‘im an’ cut him down, he’s probably still decoratin’ that tree down there, don’t y’ know.’
Halbren laughed even harder.
Chapter 24
I’ve never really approved of informal justice, since there’s a huge potential for mistakes implicit in the business, and it’s very hard to un-hang somebody if you start having second thoughts. This case was an exception, however, since I saw several immediate advantages in Malon’s rough and ready approach to the sometimes complex business of criminal justice. For one thing, it would lift the spirits of the Wacite refugees crowding the southern reaches of my domain, and by extension would also cheer up the native inhabitants. More importantly, however, the event was likely to distract the Asturians. As long as Garteon had been around, Asturia had concentrated on the annexation of my domain to the exclusion of all else. Now, at least part of their attention would be diverted by the fascinating business of choosing the departed duke’s successor.
I looked at my grinning seneschal. ‘All right, Malon,’ I said to him, ‘I don’t entirely approve, but what’s done is done, so let’s take advantage of it. I want everybody in the entire duchy to hear about your tittle adventure. Feel free to boast, my friend. Then I want you to draw a map of the approximate location of Duke Garteon’s remains and give it to General Halbren here.’
‘Did your Grace want me to retrieve the carcass?’ Halbren asked.
‘No, General, we’ll let the Asturians do that. Give the map to the talkiest priest of Chaldan you can find. Tell him what happened and then ask him to deliver the map to Vo Astur. I want everybody in Asturia to hear the happy news, and no Arend will ever try to make a priest keep his mouth shut about anything.’
General Halbren stifled his laughter and bowed his acknowledgment.
‘I wouldn’t be after expectin’ much work t’ git done around here fer a couple o’ weeks, yer Grace,’ Malon cautioned. ‘Th’ celebration’s likely t’ go on an’ on an’ be very noisy, don’t y’ know.’
‘That’s all right, Malon,’ I shrugged. ‘The harvest’s over now anyway, and the people can catch up on their work later.’ Then I laughed. ‘Oh, Malon,’ I said, ‘what am I going to do with you? Please don’t run off like that again.’
‘I’ll try t’ remember that, yer Grace,’ he promised. ‘Now, if y’ll excuse me, I’d better git t’ drawin’.’ He looked at General Halbren. ‘Me map ain’t goin’ t’ be too exact, General,’ he apologized. ‘I won’t be able t’ give y’ th’ tree’s first name, don’t y’ know.’
‘Oh, that's all right, Malon,’ Halbren forgave him. ‘The Asturians are woodsmen, so they enjoy wandering around among the trees looking for things.’
‘I’m after thinkin’ that Duke Garteon might not o’ bin th’ most popular man in all Asturia,’ Malon mused. ‘If he irritated his own people as much as he irritated us, our little celebration on this side o’ th’ river might just spread, don’t y” know.’
‘All right, gentlemen,’ I told them, ‘quit gloating and get back to work. I’ve got to go back to mother’s cottage before my father starts dismantling the Sendarian Mountains searching for me.’
The celebration of Duke Garteon’s entanglement lasted for about six weeks., I’m told. Laughter and good cheer ran from Muros all the way down the River Camaar to its mouth, and the rest of the duchy took it up from there. I’m almost sure that Malon had been right and that there were some subdued celebrations in Asturia as well.
Duke Garteon had no heir, and so his death put an end to the domination of Asturia by the Oriman family. The inevitable squabbles among assorted Asturian nobles about possession of the throne in Vo Astur so completely occupied their minds that hostilities more or less came to an end along my southern frontier. There was no overt peace-treaty, of course, but there never is in Arendia. Arends can draw up a declaration of war that’s an absolute jewel of elegance, but the wording of a peace-treaty somehow escapes them.
Father and the twins were still watching me, so I began to renovate mother’s cottage that winter, largely to persuade them that I was taking my supposed career as a hermitess very seriously. I re-thatched the roof, replaced the doors and broken windows, and re-mortared several tiers of stone blocks along the tops of the walls. I’m sure that Durnik wouldn’t have approved of the means I used to accomplish those renovations, but after I’d hit myself on the thumb with a hammer a couple of times, I neatly stacked all my tools in a corner and did it the other way.
In the spring I put in a vegetable garden. Radishes and beans aren’t as pretty as roses, but they taste better, and if you can grow roses, you can certainly grow vegetables. Father evidently took my work at the cottage to mean that I’d shaken off any suicidal impulses, because he began to relax his surveillance.
As things settled down in my duchy, I heard less and less frequently from Malon. Now that the crisis had passed, he and General Halbren no longer needed much supervision. They knew what needed to be done, so they had no real reason to pester me.
Though I appeared to be tending to my vegetable garden that following summer, I was actually doing a great deal of thinking. The steps I’d taken to make my duchy efficient and humane were producing an effect I hadn’t fully anticipated when I’d put them in place. A feudal system requires more or less constant supervision. My emancipation of the serfs and the establishment of a coherent legal system had prepared the way for self-government. I was rather ruefully obliged to admit that what I’d really done was quite neatly put myself out of a job. The people of my duchy didn’t actually need me any more. I hoped that they still had some affection for me, but by and large, they could take care of themselves. To put it succinctly, my children had all grown up, packed, and left home.