Free City in the Sky by Glynn Stewart Page A

formal court clothes, and paid the tailor to jump the effort ahead of his other contracts to have it done for tonight.
    She then took him to the sept accountant, where Erik received his greatest shock of the day.
    “H ow much?” he demanded of the man.
    “You are heir to the full sept accounts and authorities,” the banker, a small, even for an Aeraid, man named Kilos Rader, kep Tarverro, repeated. “Except for a fund set aside in your grandfather's will to maintain his wife and daughter, you have full authority on all accounts and estates of the sept .”
    Erik shook his head. “Firstly, I don't think that the fund will be necessary. Give Lady Arien complete access to all maintenance funds and liquid assets of the sept .” That, he thought, should be enough for her to effectively run the estate until he'd felt his way into the position. “Lady Arien will also function as my deputy on all other matters if I am not present,” he added. Then he glanced over at his grandmother who gave him a small smile. Not really surprised, but approving. “Also,” he continued, “give my aunt limited access to the funds – how much should she need a month?”
    “Limit it to about two or three hundred crowns,” Arien advised. “Or she'll spend us out of house and home.”
    “Three hundred crowns,” Erik agreed quickly, almost choking on the concept of that as a monthly figure. A Newport crown was a quarter-ounce gold coin, effectively identical in value to the Hellitian mark – and one mark was the normal wage for many of Vidran’s laborers. “Now, as to my original question. How much?”
    “The total, including estate and liquid assets, has an estimated value of two and a half million gold crowns. The actual value is uncertain, as large portions of the estate – such as the sept seat and surrounding areas rented to the kep families – have never been evaluated for sale.” The banker paused, eyeing Arien, who nodded for him to continue.
    “The estate maintains a reserve of one hundred thousand crowns in cash coin,” he told Erik, who couldn't help staring at the man at that figure. “The estate also holds one million crowns worth of shares in roughly one hundred fifty trade ships. Those shares, combined with the rental properties, provide the estate with an income averaging ten thousand gold crowns.”
    “Ten thousand a year ?” Erik asked, stunned. The entire smithy back home, not counting cost of materials and living expenses, had barely made five thousand marks a year between a master, two journeymen, including himself, and half a dozen apprentices.
    Kilos shook his head with a pained expression. “No, milord. Ten thousand crowns a month.”
    “A month?” Erik repeated.
    The banker nodded. “The Tarverros are not the wealthiest sept , but we are certainly not the poorest.”
    Erik signed the document put in front of him in a haze. When they left the banker's office, Arien looked at him with a small smile.
    “Surprised?”
    “Very,” Erik replied. “I hadn't realized just how much my father gave up.”
    She looked at him oddly. “Your father made the choice I expected from my son – he pursued his heart, as he always had. Don't disvalue your heart, grandson. It can easily be worth a mere two or three million crowns.”
    “And we're not the richest?” he asked.
    “No. The sept Tarverro is far fallen from its heights, but when your heights are as high as ours were, even your fall leaves you higher than many.”
    “Our heights?”
    She looked at him and shook her head. “Of course you wouldn't know.”
    “Know what?” he demanded.
    “The sept Tarverro was the founding family of Newport. For five generations, men of our sept were the Kings of Newport. Your great-great grandfather was the last Tarverro King, but we are still both wealthy and powerful. By your ancestors' blood, you are a player in our politics whether you want it or not.”
     
     
     
    The formal tunic worn by the septon s of the