"March off the old guard," he ordered.
The men started up the steps. Gerda followed the serfs with the money chest, bringing up to the rear.
Slowly, they toiled their way up the trail, halting at the halfway point for a brief rest. At last, they were at the top of the cliff. Before them, the castle gate opened. Within the tunnellike passage through the wall, two sentries grounded their pikes.
Gerda nodded to his clerk, accepted the account tablet, and followed his serfs, who still bore the money chest, into the castle.
Inside the main counting room, his bearers set the chest on a large table. The castle steward came toward them.
"And how were collections?"
"Reasonably good, sir. Seven barges came through during the night, with good cargoes." Gerda held out the tablet.
The steward looked at it, checking off the entries. "Meron, of Vandor—Yes, he would have about that. And Borowa? A thousand?" He nodded thoughtfully. "That seems about right for him." He tapped the tablet a few times, squinting at the last name on the list. "But who is this Teron? I never heard of him. Must have had a rich cargo, too."
Gerda laughed shortly. "He's a new one to me. He tried to get away with a tenth, then protested the valuation. I fined him an extra five hundred."
"Oho!" The steward smiled thinly. "What then?"