Skyrider of Renegade Point Read online

  “It can wait,” said William. “What are we going to do about the millstone?”

  Jack cut in. “Will, whether you like it or not, we’re going home and having Mrs. Gracey fix that gash in your head before what’s left of your brain leaks out. You heard what those girls said. Twenty pieces or a hundred, your millstone is gone. Forget about it.”

  William glared at him for a moment before turning to Ruskin. “Is it really gone?”

  Ruskin shrugged and tried to smile. “I’ll ask the millwright to look at it. Not a conversation I’m looking forward to—he cussed something fierce when the thing fell. If there’s a way to save it, I’ll make him tell me, but in the meantime, listen to your friend and get your head bandaged. I’ll meet you back at the manor when I know more.”

  William sighed. “Come on, Jack. Let’s get the horses.”

  Chapter 2

  They rode south along the millstream, William in a grumpy silence, the misty rain causing the blood from his wound to run into his eyes. They passed a little wooden bridge that led west to Marshland Crossing, just wide enough for a carriage or a couple of horses, but they turned east instead and took a path that soon turned into a wide gravel boulevard. When they passed the hedges, the manor itself came into view, and William did his best to ignore it, enormous as it was. He grumbled at the thought of how much gold Ruskin had talked him into spending, arguing that a lord, especially a new one, needed a large house to impress visitors. But what good was a status symbol when he couldn’t afford to feed those same visitors?

  “You need a stable hand,” said Jack as they rode round to the stable. “What would people say if they knew the great William Whitehall brushed his own horse?”

  William shrugged as they turned the last corner. “That the last thing I want to be is a normal baron.”

  Jack grinned at William’s sour expression. “No one will ever mistake you for a normal anything, I promise you.”

  William dismounted and led his mare into her stall. “What would I pay a stable hand with anyway? I can barely pay for the staff I have already, and Ruskin’s been insisting I hire a butler since the house was built.” He removed the saddle and bridle and ran the brush down the horse’s black coat as Jack did the same with his mount. “How many staff does your dad have?” he asked.

  Jack scratched his chin as he pondered. “A couple dozen, I think. Maybe thirty. An earl’s house is different though. You could manage with ten or twelve probably. A couple more if you expand your garden.”

  They left the stable and headed around the side of the manor. “What on Esper do I need twelve people for?” asked William.

  “Entertaining visiting dignitaries, for one thing.”

  “I don’t get visiting dignitaries,” said William with a wry smile.

  “Oh, what am I, then?” asked Jack with a look of mock hurt. “The son of an earl is used to a certain standard of care, you know. Besides, not every visitor will brush their own horse, or dine exclusively on duck for seven nights in a row. What happened to all your money, anyway? We all made a small fortune from the dragon trade before it dwindled.”

  William nodded at the manor. “This monstrosity for one. The upper floor has twelve bedrooms. I didn’t even want an upper floor! But Ruskin insisted, and I gave in. He said I needed a dining hall, servants’ quarters, a kitchen big enough to feed the entire Marshland Guard, and who knows what else. I probably haven’t even seen all the rooms yet, and I’ve lived here for three years.”

  Jack chuckled. “Well, since you have that kitchen, let’s make use of it and get your forehead cleaned before it gets infected. Though, to be honest, it doesn’t look as bad as I thought it did. It’s not even bleeding anymore.”

  They walked through the double door entrance, their boots echoing in the giant foyer as William winced, reminded of how much the exotic wood paneling had cost him. A servants’ hallway took them into the kitchen, where a heavy-set middle-aged woman greeted William with a mixture of surprise and concern. “Lord William, what happened to your beautiful head? The blood is practically pouring out…oh, sit there while I get a bowl of water and a cloth. We’ll need to clean it and see how bad it is. Jack Doran, is this your doing? Whatever would your doctor friend, the dark girl, what would she say if you let the wound set like this? Oh, what would have happened had I not been here, I shudder to think.” She scurried away to get what she needed before either William or Jack could respond.

  “I think Mrs. Gracey is in love with you,” said Jack with a grin.

  “Maybe that’s why she blames you for this injury and not me,” retorted William. “Which suits me fine, as I get into enough trouble with her as it is.”

  “Where did you find her, anyway?” asked Jack. “I thought you didn’t want any staff.”

  William gave a half-smile before he answered. “I didn’t. She just showed up here one day and started cooking for me. I assumed Ruskin had hired her, but he denies it.”

  Mrs. Gracey returned, bowl of water in hand, cloths and towels draped over her shoulder. “The scrapes you boys get into,” she said as she dabbed a wet cloth on William’s forehead. “I don’t like the sort of horse racing Mr. Doran baits you into. He certainly seems to have an awful lot of free time for an earl’s son. I’ve known all along something like this would happen, and it’s mere luck I was here and—”

  “Mrs. Gracey, as I’ve mentioned before, Jack is visiting me for a couple of months before he goes out exploring. And it’s lucky he is, because he saved my life today. Well, at the very least he probably saved me from greater injury.”

  “Probably?” asked Jack.

  Mrs. Gracey stopped her fussing and stared at him. “What? Then how did you cut your head?”

  “The millstone fell when the men were hoisting it, and it came barreling toward us. I was trying to move the children and didn’t realize how close it was. Jack pushed me to safety, and I hit my head as I fell.”

  Mrs. Gracey resumed cleaning the wound. “Well, that’s a lucky thing, then. Though I dare say Mr. Doran could have been more careful about it.”

  Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head, and William barely stopped himself from laughing. He reached up and gently pushed her hands away. “That will be fine, Mrs. Gracey. I think I hear Ruskin arriving.”

  “Very well. Your head looks much better now that I’ve had a chance to mend it. See? It’s not even bleeding anymore. As for that Mr. Ruskin fellow, he could stand to be a mite less hard on you as well.”

  William stood and handed her the hunting sack. “Thank you, I’ll let him know. In the meantime, could you prepare these ducks for our supper?”

  Mrs. Gracey took the bag with a resigned sigh. “How you can eat so much duck is beyond me. I’ll rustle up some potatoes and greens to go with it. Perhaps I could visit one of the farmers and spend a few coppers—”

  “Just find something in the garden,” said William as he and Jack left for the dining hall.

  Ruskin was already waiting, seated next to the head of the table. William noted the large picture of himself hanging above the seat of honor and quickly looked away. It wasn’t as though he hated it—Melissa had painted it, and considered it her best work, for good reason. She had depicted William in the defense of Rebel Falls, moments before Kaleb Antony’s men charged them, and the scene was so lifelike that William sometimes half expected Ray Findlay, Antony’s right-hand man, to leap out of the frame and attack. Out of habit, his eyes sought the other end of the hall where his sword and shield hung, the same ones he wielded in the painting. The sword gleamed in the lamplight as brightly as the day the Elder Dragon gave it to him, but the shield still bore the marks of battle. They reminded him of better days when his purpose was plain and his role clear.

  He took the head seat and faced Ruskin with a sense of foreboding. “How bad is it?” he asked.

  Ruskin let out a long sigh. “The stone is done for, my lord. The millwright was angry almost beyond speaking, but he pulled himself together l
ong enough to curse me out for costing him a day’s work. I reminded him he was being paid regardless, but I think the loss of the stone offended him more than the wasted work.”

  “You can’t repair it?” asked Jack as he sat on William’s other side.

  Ruskin shook his head, his face grim. “The millwright says no, which is no more than I expected. I’ve replaced stones for mere cracks, and this one is in pieces. It’s back to the quarry, I’m afraid.”

  William drummed his fingers on the table as he pondered the situation. “What I don’t understand, Ruskin, is why so many people stood around watching instead of helping. Every time I visit the mill, or the orchard, or the farms, I find people loitering, doing nothing, or worse, causing trouble. If they have nothing to do, why couldn’t they help?”

  “Believe me, Lord William, more help wasn’t what we needed. If the men hadn’t been pulling so hard, the frame never would have broken. More pulling would have done the same, only faster.”

  Jack gave Ruskin a questioning look. “Couldn’t someone have watched from outside and shouted a warning? Better yet, you could have had a couple of men on the ground with ropes of their own to pull the stone clear.”

  Ruskin nodded and dropped his head a little. “In hindsight, that’s an excellent suggestion, Mr. Doran, and we’ll do it that way next time. But this was the first time any of us have been involved in anything quite this size. Blind ambition got the better of me, but we’ll avoid the same mistakes next time.”

  “Next time…” said William, his voice trailing off as he stared down the length of the table. Twelve seats on either side, it seemed ridiculously large to him. Not once had all its seats been filled at the same time, and he suspected many had never even been sat in. He turned to Ruskin with a glare. “How on Esper will there be a next time? You know my finances better than I do, but I know even without looking at the books how close to the edge we are. Can you tell me, as we sit here in this overgrown mansion that cost who knows how much gold, how we can possibly raise the money to buy another eight-hundred-pound millstone?”

  Ruskin cleared his throat and stared at the table. Jack looked back and forth between William and Ruskin and asked, “Are things really so bad?”

  “Let’s see what Ruskin has to say,” said William through tight lips as he continued to stare at him.

  Ruskin finally looked up. “How much can I say in front of your friend, my lord?”

  “Jack is my best friend, and has my best interests in mind. Everything he knows, he learned from his father, who’s both an earl and a retired successful trader. Jack knows more about money than anyone else I’ve met. I want his input on this.”

  “Very well,” said Ruskin. “I’ve been your barony agent since shortly after you were promoted to the nobility. I, too, have your best interests in mind, and to that end I’ve done what I can to ensure your long-term financial success. As I made plain when we met, my strategy involves a measure of risk, as well as short-term sacrifice. While you may regret some of our past expenditures now, I trust you’ll come to see their value in the long run. This plan has worked for three barons before you, and it will work for you too.”

  William slammed his fist on the table. “Did your plan involve smashing the millstone to pieces?”

  “Will, don’t be an ass,” said Jack with an angry look of his own. “He didn’t mean for it to happen. It was an accident.”

  William took a deep breath as his frown softened. “I apologize, Ruskin. I don’t mean to take my frustration out on you, but the fact is that we are well beyond simple risk, and into something more dire.”

  “I take full responsibility for what happened,” said Ruskin. “Mr. Doran is correct that the stone’s demise was not part of the plan, but I can’t escape blame for it. I failed to take proper precautions, and that led to unnecessary expense. If you want my resignation, you’ll have it without argument.”

  “I don’t want you to quit, Ruskin,” said William with a sigh as he rubbed his tired eyes. “Duke Vincent recommended you, and he wouldn’t do so without good reason. Tell me what the next step is. Do we have enough gold to pay for another stone?”

  Ruskin shook his head slowly. “Not even close, sir. We’ll have to borrow.”

  William sat back in his chair and covered his face with his hands. How had it come to this? In four short years he had gone from having more money than he could spend to not knowing how he would pay his expenses. “Do we at least have enough for the taxes this spring?”

  “Without the income from the mill, it’ll be tight. But as long as we avoid bad luck—”

  William snorted. “When was the last time that happened?”

  “Oh, come on, Will,” said Jack. “You must have something, some kind of resource you can draw from. You’re a baron, for crying out loud. Not to mention famous.”

  “How does being famous help me?” asked William. “Whoever wrote those stupid books is getting rich, but not me. The fig trees we paid so much for still haven’t borne any fruit. Luckily, Ruskin convinced me to splurge on mature apple and pear trees, because otherwise we would have had no fruit whatsoever. Still, the rest of the orchard produced half of what it did last year, so we have just enough cider for our own use, and barely enough dried fruit to last the winter. Our excess grain has already been sold, minus what we need for seed, and for well below market value because we couldn’t get it milled in time. I can’t afford to sell off livestock, because we keep losing too many newborns, and no one knows why. About the only thing that did well last year was the apiary—another good suggestion of Ruskin’s—but the hives are dormant until spring. So, if you have any other ideas, I’m listening, because I’m fresh out of my own.”

  “What about cheese?” asked Jack. “Aren’t your dairy cows doing well?”

  “They are, but those belong to the farmers. They’ve all paid their rent for the year, aside from the ones I gave deferrals to.”

  Jack’s jaw dropped. “Deferrals? Why on Esper would you do that?”

  Ruskin cleared his throat. “I suggested it. A few farmers invested in long-term crops themselves, and in exchange for future dividends, we’ve given them a break on their first five years’ rent.”

  Jack threw up his hands. “Well, no wonder you’re in this pickle. How could you agree to that, Will? No barony can afford to give up rent income. Your taxes are based on your expected income.”

  “I know,” said William. “But I was still earning plenty of gold from my share of the dragon trade when we made that decision. I knew it wouldn’t last forever, but it dried up faster than I expected. That’s why we need the mill income.”

  “You’ve dug yourself quite the hole,” said Jack. “Ruskin is right—you need to borrow and get your mill working. I’d ask my dad if he’s willing, but—”

  “No, I can’t do that,” said William. “I already owe him for the lumber we used to build this place, and the slower dragon trade has affected him too.”

  “I’m glad you understand. He’ll still want to help though. Maybe he can ask his old trading partners to invest in a bond.”

  “That’s a dangerous idea,” said Ruskin. “It’s your decision, Lord William, but I don’t recommend it. Once word gets around that you’re having money troubles, the vultures will start circling. Before you know it, you’ll have a run of bad luck like you’ve never seen. Rival barons will try to make you default on your taxes and lose the barony to one of their sons. They’ll plant agents to cause problems like damaged crops, sick livestock—”

  “Dropped millstones?” asked Jack.

  William and Ruskin looked at each other in shock. “King’s beard…” whispered Ruskin. “I don’t know how I didn’t think of it before.”

  “You think someone has sent agents against me?” asked William. “But why?”

  “You’re a target, Will,” said Jack. “You weren’t raised on a barony, and you never met your mother’s family, so you don’t know how vicious these rivalries can get. Whoe
ver it is knew you would be too naive to expect it.”

  “So who was it? Earl Bradford? Another baron?”

  “That’s less important right now than identifying the agent—or agents,” said Ruskin. “Once we uncover them, we’ll learn who’s behind it. But for now, we need to focus on getting a new millstone. Could your stepfather lend you the money?”

  William sighed. “My mother would object, but even if she didn’t, Lord Kevin’s barony isn’t big enough to make him wealthy. They have a comfortable life, and that’s about it.”

  “What about Cairns?” asked Jack. “He rakes it in at poker games.”

  “Not that kind of money,” said William with a shake of his head. “Besides, he has expensive habits.”

  “Wine?” asked Ruskin. “Women?”

  “Worse,” said William. “Rare books.”

  “You could ask Tom Reid,” said Jack.

  William locked eyes with Jack and shook his head slowly. “Not a chance.”

  “Well, I can’t think of anyone else,” said Jack. “There are plenty of wealthy people in Marshland and Rebel Falls, but you aren’t friendly with them. You need more friends, Will, the kind who can help you in situations like this.”

  “I like the friends I have already,” snapped William. “And I don’t choose my friends based on whether they can lend me money. If I did, what kind of friend would I be?”

  “Acquaintances, then,” said Jack. “The more people you know, the more options you have.”

  “Fine, but that doesn’t help me now. Any other ideas, Ruskin?”

  “Just one,” said Ruskin, barely looking up. “But you won’t like it.”

  “I don’t like much of anything right now, but as Jack says, I don’t have many options.”

  Ruskin looked down at the table and hesitated. With an effort, he raised his eyes and met William’s gaze. “You could sell the sword.”

  William jumped to his feet and began pacing. “That’s not happening. Don’t ever suggest it again. I’ll give up the barony before I do that. I don’t care how much gold it would fetch, it’s not for sale.”