Ransom inhaled slowly. “You got more than what you asked for, my lord. I could have gotten close to fifty now, but by extending the term, I was able to press him for more.”
He had hoped that the king would be pleased by the terms. But it felt like the Elder King was never satisfied by anything. He had the notion that the king’s two sons, standing there with him, would agree with his assessment.
“I would have done better,” said the king with a smug look. “But you did well enough for your first negotiation. I think I’ll send you to Brugia soon so you can get them to heel next. I’d like to make it a practice to have all of my neighbors pay me to keep the peace. This is good work, Sir Ransom. How did King Estian the Black receive you? Did he try to bribe you?”
“He did.”
“Of course! And you showed him your measure, no doubt. Some men are not so easily bought.” He looked over at his two sons, his eyes narrowing. The message was clear—he may have allowed them back into the fold, but he had not forgotten their betrayal.
Benedict’s cheeks flushed with simmering rage.
“What did he offer you?” asked the king.
Ransom found himself at the center of too many eyes, and he felt his own cheeks begin to burn. “A duchy,” he said simply.
The king snorted. “Well, you can have one! I’ll give you Bayree myself.” He rolled up the scroll and handed it back to Ransom. “Be my vassal at the farthest reach of my domain. That will force Estian to keep his promise.”
“You’re giving him Bayree?” said Benedict incredulously.
The news came as no greater shock to Ransom himself. He stiffened.
“What about Jon-Landon?” spluttered Goff.
“He’s too young to manage it,” said the king, shaking his head. “You remember taming the Vexin, lad,” he said, looking at Benedict.
“I was his age when I did it,” he replied.
“But you’ve always been a lion, lad. That is not Jon-Landon’s way. If I give it to Ransom, then I know it will be tamed, just as I know it would be if you were to rule it.”
“Then why not give it to me?” Benedict demanded.
“Or to me!” Goff pressed in resentment. He glanced quickly between his brother and father.
“You have a wife and a duchy already,” said the king to Goff. “And a son. Benedict, there are many daughters of lords in your realm, yet you’ve ultimately balked at their youth. If they are all too young for you to be agreeable, would you give up the Vexin to your youngest brother? Hmmm? But you won’t give up what you’ve won. Even if I commanded it.”
Benedict glowered at his father. “I haven’t married because you’ve kept me running to and fro across the lands, leading your mercenaries and putting out campfires that could become wildfires if I didn’t smother them. Are you saying you’ve been expecting me to pick a wife all this time since I was loathe to marry one too young? You could have said as much.”
Here it was, the discord that was so rife among the Argentines. Queen Emiloh had been a restraining influence. But no longer.
“I’m trying to explain, Bennett, why I’m giving the duchy of Bayree to Ransom. To help you understand my thinking so that you may learn to—”
“Toy with other men, as you do?” interrupted the son hotly.
The Elder King’s eyes blazed. “What I have gained is mine to give,” he said, his voice trembling with rage.
“And to take away. Yes, you’ve said this before. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, Father. And still it is not enough.”
“At least you have Father’s respect,” said Goff with a look of jealousy. “I’ve increased Brythonica’s wealth fourfold, but spilled ink does not matter so much as spilled blood.”
Ransom wished he were anywhere else. The tension in the tent increased with each stifled breath. He glanced at Lord Kinghorn, saw the look of disappointment on his face. Duke Wigant looked impassive, but his nostrils flared with disgust.
“Listen to you both, mewling like cats for a pail of milk,” said the king with scorn. “You have no idea—still—how fortunate you both are. Bryon could tell you, if you’d but listen, what it was like under the reign of Gervase. Your whining is pitiful, truly.” He glared at Benedict, shaking his head. “Have you learned nothing from me, boy?”
“I’ve learned what it means to be tight-fisted and greedy,” said Benedict with accusation. “I’ve learned revenge and the cost of betrayal. But what I’ve learned most is that fear brings failure. I’m not afraid of you.”
The king glared at his son. “Maybe you should be.”
“We shall see. Is there any duty I may perform for you before I depart?” It was asked with a tone that held an edge of mockery. Benedict’s blue eyes stared daggers at his father.
“Escort the Duke of Bayree’s body to Lord Ashel. Inform him of my will and my decision. Have him remain at the border until Ransom comes with an army to replace him.”
Benedict nodded and then left the tent.
Goff looked at his father, some of the fight having leaked out of him. “Is there something that I—”
“Just go,” said the king, waving his hand as if a fly were annoying him.
Goff’s mouth tightened with offense, and he stormed out of the tent.
Bryon placed a hand on the Elder King’s shoulder, a gesture of simple sympathy, before he, too, departed. Duke Wigant coughed into his hand and then departed as well. Ransom stayed put, looking at the king, trying to understand his own roiling emotions. The king was going to give him the duchy of Bayree? Another heiress?
The king faced away from him, his head slightly bowed. Long moments came and went in silence. He stood somberly, then shook his head and turned around, startling when he saw Ransom standing there.
“I thought you’d gone with the others,” he said.
“Would you like to be alone?” Ransom asked.
“It seems that is my destiny,” said the king with a sad smile. “Jon-Landon will be disappointed I’m giving Bayree to you as well. He’ll rail against me for his many disappointments.”
“I don’t want the duchy of Bayree,” Ransom said. “Why not give it to your son?”
The king snorted. “Why is it that no one I reward is satisfied with what they are given? I’ve told you that you cannot have Archer’s daughter, but I have given you a duchy instead. And yet, it’s still not enough. Why are you still on that stubborn girl? I’m not in the habit of saying what I don’t mean. I will never allow it to happen. Never.”
Ransom felt the urge to defend himself, but arguing with the king had never gotten anyone anywhere, and it only added to the man’s personal pain. So he said nothing.
The king put his hands on his hips. “My boy, let me be frank with you. You need a wife. I need a faithful vassal. I chose my wife because she ruled the Vexin, but we did fall in love. And that is what made the pain of her betrayal even more unbearable. Love is poison. You think you know what you want.” He paused, chuckling. “Your youth blinds you. I won’t force you to marry Lady Alix of Bayree, but at least do me the courtesy of meeting the lass before you reject her. Hmmm?”