Vermilion ~ Twenty-Two: Treasurer

[annarti.livejournal.com]

The treasurer had been very much looking forward to this evening. Lord and Lady Candlewood had personally invited her to this night of nights gathering the region’s nobility, and felt that her services were well worthy of the occasion. She had timed her round specifically for it, travelling down from her upstream clients to arrive in Candlewood on the appointed day. She would have time then in the afternoon to see to the castle’s mundane affairs, stay in the town’s tiny inn overnight, and go over the coming expenses in more detail with Lord and Lady Candlewood the following day.

One such affair was scanning over the books and tally the expenses since her last visit, so mundane that the castle’s nobility usually wasn’t present for the check. She would flick open the book in their safe room, jot down the details, and collect the relevant taxes for the King and Queen back in Wensleydale Castle.

Today, though, the treasurer had stared at the book in anger and disbelief.

9g, the entry said, signed and dated this afternoon, though not by any signature the treasurer recognised. For a clarinet from the visiting merchant. I cannot fully express my gratitude for your kindness over the many years I have spent in your employ, but I feel now is the time for me to answer my true calling as a musician. The first 20g of my earnings will of course come back to Candlewood. I know I have no right to ask your forgiveness, but I humbly beg you of this chance to better my life. Should you wish to send one of the guard after me, I will return without fuss and face my Lord and Lady’s judgement.

With the book under her arm, the treasurer had immediately sought out the owner of that signature, one of the workers in the castle laundry, and sent one of the guard to his home to fetch him to the castle. While she awaited his return, fearful that the man might have fled town already, she went in search of any of the castle’s nobility to inform them of the situation.

She marched to the castle rooftop, knowing she would find at least one of them entertaining guests up there at sunset. Sure enough, both Lady and Master Candlewood were on the roof. They turned to the treasurer with welcoming smiles, then the Lady caught sight of the book under the treasurer’s left arm. Her son noticed it a moment later and exchanged a glance with the Lady.

‘Would you excuse me a moment?’ he offered his guests, then rose to his feet and strode across the rooftop to where the treasurer awaited him.

The treasurer held Lady Candlewood’s gaze until she, too, offered her apology and followed her son.

Master Candlewood gestured politely downstairs to usher them both away from the rooftop. ‘What’s the matter? Is something amiss with our books?’

The treasurer nodded. ‘Follow me to the lord’s office. I’d prefer this be discussed away from uninvited ears.’

She descended the stairs quickly and strode along the corridors back to the lord’s office. The guard hadn’t yet returned with the launderer, and she forced away the sick lump she felt in her stomach. It hadn’t been long, she told herself. He hadn’t necessarily left already.

She closed the door behind her and walked to the large desk, placing the open book on it for lady and master to read the most recent entry.

‘My apologies for tearing you from your duties,’ she said with a bow, ‘but I feel one of lord and lady should see this.’

The two of them bent over the book to read.

Lady Candlewood gasped aloud and covered her mouth with both hands. She took half a step back as though she had been slapped, and indeed it was a slap of sorts.

Her son stood with arms folded and head shaking. He slowly raised one hand to his mouth, and the treasurer thought she caught him mouth the words, ‘Not another.’

‘The signature belongs to one of the launderers,’ the treasurer said to show she hadn’t been idle. ‘I’ve sent one of the guard to bring him here. They should be returning momentarily.’

‘But how did he get in here?’ the young master asked. ‘Mother and Father hold the only keys. Even I must ask their permission.’

‘Never mind that,’ the lady said with a shake of her head. ‘The more concerning question is why? Why would he steal? It’s no great amount, so why not simply ask it of us? To pursue a career in the arts, why, we would have been delighted to support such a dream.’

‘I’ve spoken to him before,’ Master Candlewood said with a nod towards the book. ‘It was, truly, his dream. I even gave the poor chap a gold coin to get him started. I almost offered him enough for an instrument, but he didn’t strike me as the character who would accept charity. I tried to impress upon him that we would have no qualms in supporting him in the beginnings of his new career, but he never asked for anything.’ He sighed. ‘I truly thought he wished to work towards it on his own.’

‘Well, he’s gone and ruined his chances, now,’ the lady declared. ‘I can see you sympathise with the man, my dear, but we really can’t allow such behaviour to slip past unnoticed.’

‘No, you’re right, Mother.’

The treasurer could see that both her clients were likely to start feeling charitable towards the thief if he was allowed the chance to explain himself. There would be a sob story, there always was in cases like this, and inevitably the thief would snatch at that charity and continue with their dishonest life. She cleared her throat to politely intrude on the conversation.

‘I would suggest letting him loose,’ she said firmly. ‘Immediately and without charity. I have seen this before on many occasions, and in castles as trusting and caring as Candlewood. The employees begin to take advantage of their employers’ graciousness.’

‘But why?’ the lady pressed. ‘We’ve always listened to our servants’ gripes, however large or petty. What could they hold against us?’

‘Honestly, my lady? Because they think you won’t notice. Or that you won’t mind, even if you did notice.’

The young master stepped in, expression thoughtful. ‘Is there perhaps a better way of showing that we do mind? Sending him away would indeed keep him from stealing from us, and perhaps even keep him from thieving from anyone else, but what would it look like to the rest of the staff? Nobility being miserly over a few gold coins. But that isn’t the reason at all.’

‘Exactly right,’ his mother agreed. ‘I couldn’t care less about eight or nine gold pieces. It’s the dishonesty that hurts. We trusted him, and he broke that trust.’

A knock sounded at the door before the conversation could reach a conclusion. The treasurer felt even less certain about the thief’s fate now than she had before. She only hoped they would hold with her recommendation and set him loose. She cast the lady one warning look, then crossed the room to open the door.

The guard bowed and stood aside to admit the launderer, white faced and near shaking, his head bowed in shame. The clarinet that was the topic of this discussion was gripped in white knuckles.

The treasurer said nothing, only watched him passively as he entered and crossed the floor to his masters.

With a bow of thanks to the guard, the treasurer closed the door once more and crossed to stand beside Lady and Master Candlewood.

‘You know why you have been brought here,’ Lady Candlewood began in a voice like flint that restored the treasurer’s confidence.

The launderer gave the barest perception of a nod, the barest of whispers. ‘I do, my lady.’

‘What have you to say for yourself?’

‘Nothing,’ the launderer answered. ‘There is nothing I can say. I do not deserve any forgiveness, my lady.’

‘Please, help me to understand,’ the lady went on, with just a flicker of compassion in her voice. ‘You know us to be generous. You know you need only ask and we will see that you are provided for. We would be only too proud to see an artist spring from our castle. And yet you have betrayed our trust. Why?’

The launderer cringed at every statement. To the treasurer, who had seen countless such confrontations, could spot that this man’s guilt was genuine. It did not, however, make him any less guilty.

‘I-I don’t know, my lady. I was selfish. I thought only of the life it might bring me, not of the pain it would cause you. I had not—‘ He broke himself off, snapped his mouth shut, dropped his head so low he might have been weeping.

‘You had not expected the coin to be missed,’ the lady said, her voice softening just a little more. ‘It isn’t. What hurts us is the betrayal. We can no longer trust you. You are henceforth relieved of your duties here in Candlewood Castle. I’m sorry.’

The launderer nodded, apparently having expected such a verdict. ‘Don’t be sorry, my lady, it’s no less than I deserve.’

‘I’m glad you agree.’

With his dismissal clear, the launderer bowed first to the lady, then again to the master, offered his stolen clarinet to the treasurer, then let himself out.

The room fell into silence. The treasurer allowed them to have it, understanding how difficult it was to let a formerly loyal staff member go.

‘I think,’ the lady said in a voice edged with steel, ‘that you, your sister, your father and I will have a great many things to talk on when this week is ended.’

~ ~ ~

note~ chapters written out of sequence! Find the next chapter here, not by clicking the 'next entry' button, or you'll start confusing yourself.

Comments

[ladylight.livejournal.com]

Noooo! Greedy rich bastards, you can spare the poor guy ironing all your shirts a little clarinet ;_;

(I did want to know what he wrote in the ledger ... but not like this :<)

*pats him*

[annarti.livejournal.com]

DRAMA. Because I couldn't help myself. Just be glad no assassins rock up. They COULD have done >>