Free A Stolen Crown by Jordan Baker Page A

loosely in his hand for a moment and a piece of parchement fell from it to the floor. Bending, he picked it up and looked at the writing. It was the list Bensa had mentioned, of all the nobles whose money was to be confiscated. Carlis noticed that the names were all of those who had successfully built up fortunes at trading and investment and, more importantly, all those who had been loyal or whose families had been loyal to Cerric's brother, Gregor when he was still alive.
    Carlis scanned the parchment and also saw that his friend Lady Valamyr was on the list. She was to lose everything but her family's country estate, lands that had been entitled to her family for many generations as the Valamyr's were one of the oldest noble families in Maramyr. Elaine would not be pleased, that was to be sure. The lands she retained did not produce much in the way of saleable goods these days and her family had long ago converted their wealth to various merchant enterprises, all of which had now been confiscated. Cerric might as well have burned down her family palace at Maramyr, for she would no longer even be able to afford its upkeep let alone keep it supplied and staffed with servants.
    Given the climate in the crown city of late, Carlis considered it fortunate that Elaine and her neice had recently left for the country. They might at least be able to live for a while on what little money that did remain, though he wondered whether remaining in the kingdom was a particularly wise decision, considering what was happening in the kingdom, in general. Another page was stuffed in the book and Carlis saw a recent order from Cerric citing several antiquated Maramyrian laws that authorized the use of force and summary judgement in the event that individuals were to resist any of the king's edicts. Carlis decided that the Valamyr country estate would be his first stop upon leaving the city, and he left in a hurry.
    *****
     
    “Get out of this house immediately!” Elaine’s voice shrilled at the leering militia captain. His greasy, unshaven face, yellowed teeth and the stale smell that lingered about him suggested that he had likely been deputized from the ranks of the lowest country tavern in Maramyr.
    “Or what?” he asked mockingly as the rest of his men searched through the many luxurious rooms of the Valamyr country manor. Ehlena sat quietly at a nearby table, ignoring the men’s prying eyes as they passed back and forth, opening every box and cupboard in every room of the house.
    “Or the king will have your head.” Lady Valamyr stood up as tall as possible in an effort to command some respect for her nobility. The soldier merely laughed at her.
    “King’s orders, milady.” He grinned and gestured at the jewels and gold his men were carrying out to their horses. “Your contribution to the army. We’re going to war, in case you hadn’t heard. Care to make a personal contribution?” He leered at the noblewoman and her neice.
    “I think you’ve taken enough for the army. I will have words with Cerric himself about this,” she told him flatly.
    “That might not be a good idea,” Carlis said as he walked past one of the militia men standing at the entrance the sitting room where Elaine had squared off against the captain.  He noticed before he entered that the man had his hand on his sword, even though the people his superior was interrogating were unarmed women who hardly posed a threat. The captain of the militia turned and Carlis walked right up to him. "What is your name?" he asked.
    "Parson," the man replied. "Captain Parson of the Royal Militia."
    "Thank goodness," Elaine said and then walked over to a nearby bureau and poured herself a glass of strong liquor, while Ehlena sat quietly, not saying a word.
    “And who are you?” The captain cast a suspicious look at the former magistrate. Carlis smiled.
    “I am Lord Carlis, Maramyrian Magistrate and trade negotiator for the throne,” Carlis lied, giving him the