71. Finances.

Author's Note: Sorry that this wasn't out earlier.  I'm trying to get a chance to get a backlog for RR again, but I'm still somewhat distracted IRL.  Right now I'm struggling just to keep up with the scheduled releases.

The Steward, Arkan, took a moment to look surprised at my announcement, and then he quickly schooled his expression into one of calm control.  He set his pen down on the desk, stood from his chair, straightened his suit, and bowed deeply.  He was a handsome man, and he was wearing the latest trend from the capitol, but his clothes were designed more for comfort than fashion.  He had, after all, been relaxing in his study and not expecting visitors.

“I greet you and welcome you to my home, My Lord.  I wish that you had sent word of your visit before hand so that I could have prepared for you a proper welcome, but it is of course your prerogative to come and go as you please.  Since receiving word of the late king’s decree gifting you these lands, I have been busy auditing and preparing a report for you to bring you up to date on your new property.  I was hoping to have a chance to review it, and to have a scribe copy it onto more suitable and legible stationary.  My handwriting is legible, but only just.  However, if you are impatient to learn the lay of your land, the rough draft is mostly ready for your eyes,” the man said, his voice calm, showing no hint of fear or anxiety.

“That would be great,” I agreed, stepping over to his desk.  I had been hoping for a more worried reaction.  I sensed no insincerity or bravado in the man’s voice, which set me on edge.  Either the man had nothing to fear, or he was so skilled at hiding it that ice must flow in his veins.

My Traveler friends joined me in the room, closing the door behind us.  The woman who had shown us in stayed outside.

“Ah, the ink is still drying on that page,” he pointed out when I snatched it from the desk.  “And it’s the end of the report anyway.  This is the beginning.”

I ignored him for a moment as I examined the page he had been working on.  It was a summary of the current finances, and I could only frown as I read it.  The shire was, according to the report, about thirty million gold in debt.  It was operating at a loss of about fifty thousand gold per year, which it was covering by borrowing from the Silvercrest bank on an ongoing line of credit.  There were three other banks listed as the creditors for the majority of the debt.  Much of the expenses of the shire were going simply to the interest of its loans.

We were literally borrowing money to pay back loans we had already taken, and we were doing so under progressively worse terms.

“How did this happen?” I demanded.

“It’s all in the report,” my steward assured me, handing me a stack of papers.  “If you would start at the beginning.”

And so I read.  The report began with a brief history of the shire.  It had been the hereditary property of the Mooncrest family for almost four hundred years, but it had never been particularly prosperous.  However, the previous three generations of lords had been increasingly negligent and incompetent in their rule.  They had maintained properties at court in the capitol using funds from the shire, and when that had been insufficient to maintain their image, they had borrowed heavily, using their income from the shire as collateral.

It had been insufficient to prevent the decline of the Mooncrest family, which had never been large.  I was somewhat surprised to learn that the family was not, in fact, extinct.  Instead, when the previous lord had died, his heirs had declined their inheritance for the express purpose of avoiding the hereditary debt.  The loans were leveraged against the land, not the family name.  However, the current Lady Mooncrest was lord of nothing.  She had attempted to claim the city residence without the shire’s debt, but my great-grandfather had wisely blocked the move.  Her fate, and that of the rest of her family, was not mentioned.

I idly wondered if they had joined the Beggar Court.

According to the document, the crown refused to pay the debt that the Mooncrest family had leveraged against the land.  The banks had, apparently, taken the crown to court over the matter several times, and had obtained a reluctant ruling that although the courts could not enforce the debt against the royal family or the taxes from the land, the debt would remain and continue to accumulate interest.

The debts were far from the shire’s only expense, of course.  The crown continued to demand its taxes without regard to the land’s debt.  And although it was small, the shire’s local government had its own expenses, including law enforcement and the maintenance of public property.  Most years the tax income was sufficient for those debts, but it had never been enough to cover operational costs and the leveraged loans, which was why the line of credit was necessary.

It was all laid out in crisp, clinical detail.  I would not be enjoying a nice, comfortable income from my lands anytime soon.

“Are you okay, Hail?” Thena asked when I put the final page of the report into my inventory.  “Your expression is … well, it sort of looks like your constipated, to be honest.”

“I want the ledgers for the last century,” I said, turning to the steward.  Arkan opened his eyes in surprise.

“Certainly, My Lord.  I will order copies to be made immediately.  I had thought that you might want to review the finances yourself so I already made copies of the ledgers for the past decade, but I will begin working on--”

“Let’s start with those, then,” I said impatiently.  Arkan nodded, and from his inventory he produced a banker’s box filled with ledgers.  I promptly took it and placed it in my own inventory.

“I’ll review them later,” I promised.  “Where are the originals?”

“I’m afraid the original documents must, by law, be kept in a secure location,” Arkan said.  “I can take you if you’d like, but we cannot remove them.  That is why--”

I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration.  “I’m not an idiot, Arkan.  I know the recordkeeping act requires the original copies of official documents to be kept in a location enchanted against fire, damp, and theft.  I also know that accessing the original documents in that location requires official authorization from the lord of the land or their superiors.  So if I want to see the original documents, then I would have to get authorization from the lord of North Shire.”

I paused for a minute, staring directly at Arkan as I measured his response.  His expression turned reptilian, and I could only smile when I said “Oh wait, that’s me, isn’t it?”

Without a trace of mirth, the Steward produced a key from his pocket and handed it to me.  His expression was measured and neutral, but displayed no hint of warmth or friendliness.  “The record storage room is located in the Lord’s Manor itself.  It’s a small room in the basement.  The working ledger is kept in the clerk’s office in town, which is also where these copies were produced.  Their original is still there.”

“Excellent.  The Manor was one of my next stops anyway.  Thena, would your group mind picking up the documents in town?” I asked.

I turned to them, my expression as warm as Arkan’s was cold, and I was a little surprised when they did not answer right away.

“Did you guys get a quest?” Thena asked, turning to Larissa and Laurant.

“Nope,” Laurant said.  “Weird, right?  I mean, I’m perfectly happy to go to the clerk’s office or whatever whether we have a quest for it or not, Hail.  It just feels like there should be a quest, right?  I mean, this is an official, canon act, right?  Seems weird that there’s not a quest for it.”

I considered for a moment.  Then, without asking his permission, I sat down at Arkan’s desk and penned a quick letter using his ink, which I first enchanted, and then sealed it with [Magic Seal: Personal Crest].  It was a very simple document authorizing its bearer to access and remove the documents from the clerk’s office.  When I handed it to Laurant, he nodded.

“Yup, there it is.  That’s what was missing.”

“This truly isn’t necessary,” Arkan said, his voice calm.  “I assure you, it will not take long for the copies to be made and--”

“Arkan, you’re fired,” I said, staring into his eyes as I said the words.  He stiffened.

“I was appointed by your grandfather,” he said coldly.  “You can’t--”

“You might have been appointed by the former king while North Shire was in the care of the crown, but that does not mean I require royal permission to remove you from your position,” I explained calmly.

“I have served honorably and carried out my duties faithfully,” he protested.  “You’ll find nobody better suited to this position, and even if you replace me it will take them weeks, if not months, to get up to speed on the current state of the shire.  You cannot afford to dismiss me at this time.”

“You’re still fired,” I said.  “In fact, you’re double fired.  I insist that you immediately turn over any official documents, keys, seals, or any other item which might serve as a symbol of the authority of the office which you once held.”

The man met my eyes unflinching.  I expected anger, outrage, disbelief, anything.  His expression was emotionless, as was his voice when he finally spoke.  “You are making a mistake.”

“Yeah, I do that sometimes,” I admitted.  “Remind me to tell you about the time I accidentally destroyed a castle.  That was a big woops.  You’re still fired.”

The sound of an old woman laughing intruded from outside the room as Arkan produced a keychain from his inventory, a stamp with the Mooncrest family seal on it, and a document signed by my grandfather appointing him to his position.

“If there is nothing else, My Lord, I respectfully request that you leave my residence,” he said, and I could almost see his breath, his voice was so cold.

“Goodbye Arkan,” I said.

The door opened, and the old lady came in, wiping a tear of joy from her eye.  “Lord Hail!  Please ignore my irksome son-in-law’s dismissal.  You are welcome to stay in myhome any time you wish!  It is an honor to have you under the roof of my house!”

“Mother,” Arkan began, but the old lady cut him off.

“Oh shut up you insufferable fool.  And start packing your things!  I want you out!”

The former steward finally showed an emotion.  Rage.  “I bought you this house,” he said.  “I paid for everything.”

“And you put it in my name!” she said.  “Mine, not yours!  You think I’m a fool, but I knew someday this would happen.  I’m half blind in my dotage, but I saw further than you!”

Arkan’s knuckles were white, and his fingernails cut into his palm so deep it began to bleed.  “I builtthis house for your daughter!  I only allowed you to stay after she passed into Thedum’s embrace because of my love for her.”

“You think I don’t know what it says on the deed?  You think I don’t know?” she taunted.  She turned to me and smiled.  “My house was assessed thirty years ago.  This house wasn’t around back then.  If he had built this house in his name, he would have to have it assessed and pay property taxes on it!  He thought I didn’t know, but I did!”

“You cannot simply kick me out, Elara,” Arkan objected.  “I paid for everything.  Everything in this house belongs to me.”

“Perhaps, but the house itself doesn’t!” she said.  She literally leapt with joy, then winced and rubbed her back.  “And I want you out, you filthy squatter!”

They continued to argue for a moment, but I had already turned back to the desk.  I [Scribed] a quick eviction notice, which I presented to the old woman.  “Unfortunately, you’re not legally able to remove him from the house tonight, dear woman.  If the house truly is in your name, but you have been allowing him to live in it for an extended period of time, you must provide him with at least seven days notice before he’s required to vacate.  If you sign this document, it will serve as notice.  If he does not leave on his own in one week, you may contact the constable to have him forcibly removed.”

Elara barely glanced at me as she snatched the paper away and signed it.  She left the room, rubbing her back but cackling with glee.

I turned to Arkan, my expression curious.  “Perhaps I misjudged you, Arkan.  Building such a fine home for your mother-in-law is a true act of generosity.  That is why you put it in her name, is it not?  Because if you put it in her name to avoid paying taxes on your personal residence, well, that would be a crime, would it not?”

Without saying another word, Arkan left the office, his expression never changing.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave him running around?” Tarisha asked me once we were alone.  Laurant, Thena, and Larissa leaned in to hear my response.  I sighed.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the evidence yet to throw him in jail like the Constable.  I don’t need a reason to fire him, but even though I’m an Earl, I can’t order him arrested based on hearsay.  Which is why we need to secure the original ledgers before he has a chance to steal or alter them.”

“Oh shit!” Laurant exclaimed.  “Our quest just got a timer!  Gotta go!”

The party waived their farewells and quickly ran from the room.  Tarisha nodded at me.

“We should probably get moving as well, Lord Hail.”

“Right,” I agreed.  “Onward to my new home.”

We left the house of my former steward’s mother in law, her cackling laughter still echoing through the halls.