Bound to the Warrior. Barbara Phinney
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complaint, as it is my good management that filled the coffers he now seeks to empty.”
“The king has no complaint against you, woman,” Eudo announced, folding his arms. “He merely expects you to pay your taxes.”
After a sharp glance at the coins stacked on the table, she leaned forward to press her knuckles into the battered wood. She eyed Eudo darkly. “But must my people and I be forced into poverty?”
She could hardly believe her ears. She’d never sounded so defiant, but this was about her keep.
She could feel her husband’s heavy gaze upon her skin. If necessary, she would justify her words to him later in private. Lifting her chin, she met Eudo’s eyes as regally as she could. “I demand to know how much the king chooses to take. And I deserve to know exactly where ’twill be used.”
Eudo stiffened. “How the king uses his money is his own business.”
“How strange then that he needs to send the very brother of his servant here, a man whose duty is only to fill the king’s cup and serve his food. Aye, you may be capable of handling the monies, but I suspect the king sent you because of your good rapport with my husband, and—” she lifted her brows “—because he has also ordered you to build a castle in Colchester, not far away. And so thus, you need the money.”
Slowly, the steward smiled until a short chuckle escaped from his widening lips, proving to Ediva he was merely testing her, something that irked her further. “I can see why you fear for your life, Pra—Adrien,” he said in a surprisingly merry tone. “I’m thankful she had no bow up on the parapet when I entered. I might not be standing here right now.”
That remark’s meaning was lost on Ediva, so she ignored it. She spun the record book around as Geoffrey jumped back. The last line had not yet been completed, but a note above it stated that some men and tools were also leaving.
She gasped, hardly believing what was written. “He will take our men, as well?”
“Aye,” Adrien answered coolly. “And if you’d stayed in your solar, I would have told you all this.”
She smacked the table, actually making the two guards jump. “We cannot spare the men! ’Twill soon be time to plant! And with the threat of revolt in Anglia, they will need to be available to defend this keep!”
“I will leave one soldier for every three men I take,” Eudo promised. “And the tradesmen in the village are hardly farmers, Ediva, so do not tell me of their need to plant.”
“You know nothing of our ways. All farm here, Lord Eudo—tenants, tradesmen and even the chaplain if they expect to eat next winter,” she snapped. “But one man for three! The number is far too small. Even if you left a soldier for every man you took, do you expect your soldiers will know the work to be done here? Do they know how to farm, or shoe horses or sheer sheep? Those skills are needed here.”
“The soldiers will defend your keep, and with two-thirds fewer mouths to feed, I would say you’d be glad to see the trade.”
Immediately, Adrien set his hand upon hers to stop her from smacking the table again. His palm was warm, rough, strong and was successful in stilling any movement that was aimed to insult Eudo. “Ediva, arguing will do no good. Eudo is borrowing some of the men to move rubble, ’tis all.”
“He can use the king’s soldiers.”
“The soldiers must stay here. The king considers this keep too important to leave its guard to your men. ’Twill only be for the spring and summer.”
She could hardly believe her ears. “The work will fall back on the women, and some will give birth soon. Many are still nursing babes!”
“Have faith.”
“In what? Faith and an empty cup won’t fill a belly. We need our men.” She turned to Eudo earnestly. “Three to one is an unacceptable ratio. Two men for one soldier.”
Eudo lost his smile. “I will be taking twenty men and leaving six.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you think I’m a foolish maid who doesn’t know her numbers? ’Tis even less than the three to one trade you promised!” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “Leave me ten and take eighteen.”
Eudo glanced at his brother. Adrien remained smugly silent to his brother’s plight.
With a lifted brow, the steward said, “Hardly a two to one exchange, either. Do you think that I don’t know my numbers? I will leave you seven.”
“Leave me ten, and I promise you that they will be returned to you fitter and stronger than when you left them.” Ediva lifted the corners of her mouth slightly. “Adrien will ensure they continue their training. A more than fair exchange, sir, to receive back finer soldiers than you left us. You will do the king proud, I can assure you.”
Eudo leaned across the table. Ediva did the same. They very nearly touched noses. She’d listened to Ganute barter many times for the things he wanted. She knew her numbers well, and more important, she knew the skill of persuasion. When the steward began to frown, she offered him her most charming smile. “I will take very good care of them, sir. ’Twould hardly be in my interest not to do so.”
Abruptly, Eudo laughed as he straightened. “Ah, the head of an exchequer and the wiles of a siren. You have your hands full here, my brother. Very well, woman, I will leave you ten men.”
“And two runners, should we need to send for you.” She smiled sweetly. “You’ll want to know if we’re attacked and the king’s holdings are in danger, will you not?”
Eudo grimaced. “Very well. But the two runners will be squires. I won’t leave one more man here.”
She straightened and shut the record book with a slam, causing Geoffrey to pull back his quill lest it be jammed inside. Adrien chuckled and shook his head.
But Ediva saw no humor in the situation. “There is nothing funny here, my lord.” She thrust the record book at Geoffrey. “Lock it and the coffers before we lose it all. We must see about feeding these men as I have promised, so I want a full inventory of the foodstuffs.”
With a deep bow, Geoffrey took the book and the box and exited. She lifted her chin. “Excuse me, my lords, whilst I see to the noon meal.”
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