‘Perhaps that’s because we never had enemies before,’ Leesha said. ‘I had fifty Krasian warriors in my town with an army at their backs, and did the best I could to keep my people safe. We didn’t have a week and more to wait on a response from the crown, and there’s nothing in the town charter that says I can’t come and go as I please in any event.’
Thamos sighed. ‘You’ve gotten used to having your own way in Cutter’s Hollow, mistress. Well enough when all you were good for was a few caravans of wood each year, but all that has changed. I am lord of the Hollow and its environs now. Your town council answers to me, and not the other way around. I can wipe my arse with your charter.’
Leesha smiled. ‘Do as you please, Highness, but do not be surprised to find the Hollowers don’t take it kindly if you do.’
‘Threats, mistress?’ Thamos asked. ‘After the ivy throne has answered your plea for aid, sending food, supplies, engineers, Warders, and soldiers to succour the refugees and fortify against the Krasians?’
‘No threat,’ Leesha said. ‘We are thankful for your aid and grateful to His Grace for the consideration he has given. I am simply offering a piece of advice.’
‘And what “advice” do you have regarding the company of enemy soldiers you brought with you?’ Thamos asked. ‘Can you give me a reason not to arrest and execute the lot of them?’
‘I have seen the Krasian army,’ Leesha told him. ‘Harming my escort, sent in good faith to keep us safe on the road and open relations between our peoples, would be tantamount to starting a war we cannot hope to win.’
‘You’re a fool if you think we will surrender an inch of ground to them,’ Thamos growled.
Leesha nodded. ‘Which is why you should smile and bide your time while the Hollow gets its feet under it. Treat our guests with courtesy. Show them our way of life is a good one, and that we, too, are strong.’
Thamos shook his head. ‘I will not have Krasian spies living and moving freely about the greatwards of the Hollow.’
Leesha shrugged. ‘Then you shall not. I will let them stay on my land.’
‘Your land?’ Thamos asked.
‘Bruna was given a thousand acres of hereditary land by your father, Duke Rhinebeck the Second.’ She smiled. ‘A gift for midwifing Your Highness, I believe.’
Thamos’ face reddened, and Leesha let the grin slip from her face. ‘When Bruna died, she left me the land in her will. I have deliberately kept every acre off the greatwards.’
‘The land around the cottage Darsy keeps?’ Thamos asked. ‘You doubt my sincerity in offering my walls to these people, and then suggest instead they live on unwarded land?’
‘My lands are safer than you might expect, Highness,’ Leesha said. ‘Without their spears, there aren’t enough of them to cause a real problem, especially with their wives and children in tow. The Krasians bring gifts and goods to trade, with the promise of more. Let them do business, and send merchant spies of your own in return. If we cannot avert war, it is in our best interest to delay it while we build our forces and learn our enemies’ ways.’
Thamos wiped the frustration from his face, losing most of the tension in his shoulders. ‘Mother said you’d be like this.’
Leesha smiled. ‘The Duchess Mum knows me well. She is in good health, I presume?’
Thamos seemed to brighten a bit at the mention of his mother. ‘Not as vital as she once was, but I think in the end she will outlive us all.’
Leesha nodded. ‘Some women have too much will to die before their work is done.’
‘Mother sends her regards,’ Thamos went on. ‘And gifts.’
‘Gifts?’ Leesha asked.
‘First things first,’ Thamos said, turning his gaze on Gared. ‘Gared Cutter?’
Gared stepped forth. ‘Ay, Yur Highness?’
Arther took a small scroll from his podium and broke the seal, unrolling it to read: ‘“Gared Cutter, son of Steave of the village of Cutter’s Hollow, in the name of His Grace, Duke Rhinebeck the Third, Wearer of the Ivy Crown, Protector of the Forest Fortress and Duke of Angiers, you are hereby requested and required, in the year three hundred and thirty-three after the Return, to assume the rank of captain of the Cutters in service to His Grace, and the title of Squire at court. You will be given a district of the Hollow to oversee and tax for the upkeep of your household, and report only to His Highness Lord Thamos, Marshal of the Wooden Soldiers.” Do you accept this honour, and this duty?’
A wide grin split Gared’s face. ‘Captain, eh? Squire?’
‘Do. Not. Accept,’ Leesha said through gritted teeth. It was a meaningless title. Gared was already the leader of the Cutters. This was all just a ploy to get him to swear fealty to the crown, and admit that the Cutters were part of Rhinebeck’s army and not a private force.
Gared chuckled. ‘Don’t worry. Not gonna.’
He looked up at the count. ‘Thanks all the same, Yur Highness, but there’s a lot more Cutters in the Hollow than Wooden Soldiers.’
Everyone in the room tensed. Thamos’ hand found the haft of his spear. ‘And just what are you saying, Mr Cutter?’
Gared thrust his chin at Gamon. ‘Corespawned if I’ll be the same rank as that pissant. Wanna be general. And … ay, like a baron or something.’
Gamon scowled, but Thamos nodded. ‘Done.’ Leesha put her face in her hand, feeling her temple throb again.
‘Idiot,’ Rojer whispered for her ears only.
Thamos rose and pointed his spear at Gared. ‘Kneel.’
Gared gave Leesha a triumphant grin and stepped forward, falling to one knee. Thamos laid his speartip on the Cutter’s burly shoulder. Tender Hayes came forward as well, holding out a worn but beautiful leather-bound book, its cover illuminated in gold leaf. ‘Place your right hand on the Canon, my son.’
Gared did, his eyes closed.
‘Do you swear fealty to His Highness, Count Thamos of Hollow County, answering to him and no other, from now until your death?’
‘Ay,’ Gared said.
‘Do you swear to uphold his law,’ Hayes went on, ‘to administer fair justice to your subjects, the people of Cutter’s Hollow, and to smite its enemies?’
‘Ay,’ Gared said. ‘And twice for the last.’
Thamos gave a grim smile. ‘By the power given me by my brother, Duke Rhinebeck, Wearer of the Ivy Crown, Protector of the Forest Fortress and Lord of All Angiers, I name you General Gared of the Cutters, Baron of Cutter’s Hollow. You may rise.’
Gared got to his feet, taller than the count even with Thamos standing on his dais. The count gestured to the Butchers. ‘A uniform and armour will be provided for you. Please confer with your lieutenants after the audience and prepare your troops for muster and inspection. The Butchers have handled elevating most of the petty officers, but you of course can change their decisions if you feel it necessary.’ His tone made that sound like a terrible idea.
‘Ay,’ Gared nodded, sticking his hand out. ‘Thanks.’
Thamos looked at the hand as if Gared had just wiped himself with it, but he shrugged and shook it all the same. ‘I know you will do great honour to the ivy throne, General Cutter.’