Part 6 (1/2)
He tossed the bag to the clerk, then stood, glaring at the unfortunate trader. At last, he kicked the nearest bale.
”Well,” he growled, ”get this stuff off the wharf. What are you waiting for?”
He watched the barge crew load, then turned. Lor came from the guard house.
”All is in order, My Captain.”
”Very well.” Gerda looked at him approvingly. Then, he swung to the merchant, fixing him with a stern glare.
”We shall make note of your name, Merchant. See thou that you make honest and accurate valuation in the future. Another time, we shall not be so lenient. The dungeon of Menstal is no pleasant place.”
He watched till the last of the bargeload was stowed, then nodded curtly.
”You may shove off,” he said. He turned his head toward the tower.
”Down chain,” he ordered loudly.
The windla.s.s creaked protestingly and the heavy chain dropped slowly into the river. The barge steered to the center of the channel, gathering speed as it pa.s.sed over the lowered chain.
When the barge had cleared, serfs inside the tower strained at the windla.s.s in obedience to the commands of their overseer, and the chain rose jerkily, to regain its former position across the stream.
Gerda watched for a moment, then strode toward the guard house. He went inside, to look at the bags of coin on the counting table.
”Cattle,” he growled, ”to think they could cheat the Baron Bel Menstal of his just tax.”
He stepped back out for a moment, to watch the merchant barge enter the rapids beyond the chain. Then, he swung about and re-entered the tower.
Inside, he sat down at his counting table. He opened the bags, spilling their contents out on the boards, and checked their count.
There were forty-eight over.
He turned to his clerk.
”What was your count, Lor?”
”Two thousand, one hundred, sir, and forty-eight.”
”Very good.” Gerda smiled a little. ”For once in his thieving life, the merchant was anxious to give full weight.”
Lor spread his hands. ”He'll get it back, and more, at Orieano, sir.”
”Oh, to be sure.” Gerda shrugged indifferently as he scooped the coins back into the bags. He chose three small sc.r.a.ps of wood, scrawled tally marks on them, and went over to a heavy chest.
Taking a key from his belt, he unlocked the chest and raised its lid. He looked at the bags lying within, then tossed the new ones on top of them. As he locked the chest again, he saw Lor go to his account board, to enter the new collection.
The Officer of the Guard straightened, stretched for a moment, then glanced critically in at the windla.s.s room. The serfs had secured the windla.s.s and racked their poles. Now, they were sitting, hunched against the wall, staring vacantly, in the manner of serfs. The guardroom, its commander noted, was properly clean. He shrugged and walked out again to the wharf. Once more, he looked at the iron cliffs opposite him, then glanced downriver. The merchant barge had disappeared.
Beyond Menstal, the cliffs closed in still farther, to become more rugged and to form a narrow gorge. Between them, the Nalen took a tortuous course, turbulently fighting its way over the rocks.