In Service Of The King (Book 2) (12 page)

“Joseph Asher?” the General managed to say. “Why are you here?”

“I am come to speak with you, sir,” Joseph answered him calmly. The general seemed to recover his manners somewhat and offered a half-smile.

“Forgive me, Joseph. Please come in. Sit down. I am merely surprised to see you.”

Joseph sat on the chair opposite the general’s. Hays sat down, keeping his eyes fixed on the serious young man in front of him.

“I am curious what happened to you since we last met,” the general said, carefully. He did not fear Joseph would harm him, but rather wondered at the lengths the King had gone to watch over him.

“The king had a commission for me to perform,” Joseph replied, matching the general’s gaze. “I was to make new swords for the Shamar.” General Hays’ eyebrows rose, slightly.

“Like the one you showed me?” Joseph nodded, once. Hays looked at him with a mixture of wonder and suspicion. “How come you by Dorenvines?” he asked, curious.

“I am the smith here.”

Hays smiled again; his face held a mild look of admiration.

“The forge by the Stone Mountain gate?” he asked, rubbing his chin. “I have marked it, a good building.”

Joseph took out a small, fine leather sack from his tunic; he laid it on the desk, though covered by his hand. Hays’ eye went to it, then back up at Joseph.

“What is that?” the general asked. Joseph took a deep breath, exuding a calm he did not feel.

“A bride price,” he said, gravely. “I have come to ask you for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage.”

Hays’ eyes grew wide. At first, he looked as though he would object... but instead, he remained quiet some moments. Feeling his nerves were about to burst, Joseph saw the general’s eyes slide down to the bag again.

“May I?” Hays asked, indicating the bag. Joseph opened it and spilled out many pieces of pure, newly minted silver; Hays took one piece and looked at it, glanced at Joseph.

“The king must have paid you well for those swords,” he remarked, placing the coin back in the pile. Joseph smiled.

“He did,” he replied, watching Hays carefully. “I offer this, or I will give you a third of all I own.” Hays did not seem to hear this, and picked up another coin.

“This must be at least five year’s pay,” the general commented.

“More or less,” Joseph told him. “Again, I offer this, or a third of all I own, whichever you choose.” Slowly, the general reached for the bag and put the coins back in, counting to himself. It was a nice little sum, certainly three times more than he now possessed. The general weighed the sack in his hand, deep in thought.

A knock came at the study door; a servant came in, with Harold behind him. Harold looked momentarily surprised to see Joseph sitting there but recovered nicely.

“Harold! Come in... you remember Joseph Asher of Rishown?” Joseph fought hard to keep his countenance straight. Harold played his part meticulously. He nodded in his polite way, standing by the general’s desk.

“I do, sir,” he said, smiling at Joseph. “How nice to see you again, young Asher.” Joseph grinned.

“Likewise, Harold,” he returned.

“Joseph is the blacksmith in the village,” Hays continued, still holding the sack of coins. “He has just asked me for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage.”

Harold’s eyebrows rose a little; he smiled.

“Indeed, sir?” he said. Hays grinned, putting the sack on his desk, the coins clinked within making their presence known.

“Yes. He’s offered me all this silver as a bride-price, or a third of all he owns.” A brief look of surpise flitted over Harold’s face, but still, he said nothing. “This is five year’s pay, at least,” Hays continued. He looked up at his former servant. “You were always good with figures, Harold,” he said, “Which would you take?”

The man thought for several moments.

“It is hard to put a price on such a kind, lovely girl,” he said, at last. “It reminds me of when I offered all my savings so long ago for my own sweet wife, God rest her soul. My father used to tell me that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

The general sat for some time, his brows drawn in a deep line. Eventually, he took up the bag again, a wide smaile dressing hsi features.

“Joseph… you are a fine young man,” he said, smiling. “In light of this great token, I’d be honored to have you for my son-in-law.” Looking at the manservant, he pointed out the study door. “Bring wine! We’ll drink to this happy union”

Striving to remain composed Joseph felt great sense of relief wash over him nonetheless. Harold cleared his throat.

“Mrs. Hays also agrees?” he inquired. General Hays looked uncomfortable for a moment, but quickly hid it in a smile.

“I’ll speak with her,” said he. “If Elizabeth will have you Joseph, then I accept your offer.”

Standing, Joseph took the general’s hand in a firm grip. They shook on the bargain and drank a small glass of wine, Even Harold had a glass and gave his congratulations to Joseph. The general saw his future son-in-law out and sent him off with many well-wishes, still holding onto the sack of silver coins.

Lifting his hand in farewell, Joseph rode away, returning to the relative calm of his forge.

EIGHT

Some hours after Mrs. Hays and Elizabeth returned to their residence, Elizabeth heard a knock on her door. Hiding her unfinished letter to Joseph in a hidden compartment of her desk, she rose and opened her door. Thomas, their manservant, stood just outside it.

“Your father wishes to see you in his study, miss,” he said. Nodding, Elizabeth closed her door and followed the man. Her father seemed to be expecting her and ushered her in the room, closing the door behind them, firmly. Elizabeth felt momentarily afraid that he’d somehow heard of her speaking with Joseph that day.

“You called me, father?” she asked, attempting to sound calm.

General Hays nodded, sitting down at his desk.

“Yes, yes… please sit, my dear,” he said, indicating a nearby chair. Elizabeth obeyed, sitting straight and fixing her eyes upon her father’s face. The general appeared to study her face intently, his countenance dressed in a strange mixture of happiness and melancholy.

“Elizabeth…” he said, at last. “…today, a young man came here and gave me a bride-price for you; he asked me to give you to him for a wife.” Astonished at this news, Elizabeth forced down a wild hope that Joseph was this young man. The general paused several moments. “Do you recall a young man by the name of Joseph of Rishown?”

The immediate smile present on his daughter’s face told Hays that she did.

“I do,” Elizabeth said, forcing her voice to remain steady. “He gave you a bride-price? He is not rich, father. It must have been very little.”

“Not so little,” her father said, fetching out a sack from his desk drawer. He let it fall, the coins inside clinking as it thumped onto the desk. “At least five year’s pay; two-hundred and sixty pieces of new-minted silver.”

Elizabeth felt dazed at her father’s words; she glanced from the bag to her father; he seemed perfectly in earnest. Slowly, her smile returned.

“Have you accepted his offer, father?” she inquired, quietly. Smiling a little, Hays leaned forward, his hands clasped before him on the desk.

“I told Joseph that if you agreed to marry him, I would accept his offer,” he said. At this, Elizabeth felt like leaping for joy but refrained from doing so; she could scarce believe this incredible turn of luck. Never once did she think her father would allow her to marry a man in such a low position of life as Joseph; she did not view him thus, but knew her parents did.

“You accepted?” she asked, still unbelieving. Hays chuckled at his daughter’s expression.

“We made a pact,” he told her. “Harold was present to hear the news.” Elizabeth absorbed these words for a moment, smiling happily to herself.

“I agree to marry him,” she said, quietly. “He is a good man and I would be honored to be his wife.”

General Hays looked his daughter in the eye several seconds; she appeared sincere.

“Your life will not be easy,” he remarked, standing up. He looked out his study window at the great bay; the sun was just setting, coloring the sky with shifting hues of deep orange and ruby-red. “You will not have the comforts you have been accustomed to.”

Elizabeth smiled.

“We have been without many comforts for some time, now, father,” she said, plaintively. “Joseph Asher is the type of man whom would take great care of me.” Her father turned back to face her with a broad smile.

“Yes, I believe that,” he said. “That is why I accepted his offer. We can set the wedding for early summer.” His daughter jumped up from the chair and threw her arms about his neck. Drawing away again, she smiled; tears threatened to show themselves in her eyes, but Elizabeth held them back. A thought occurred to her, marring her newly-sprung elation.

“Does my mother know?” she inquired, her heart filling with dread. Octavian Hays’ brow crinkled, slightly.

“I will speak to her about it this evening, after dinner,” he said; going to his sideboard, he poured out a glass of liqueur and downed it in one gulp. He glanced at his daughter, whose concerned expression made him smile. “Do not worry yourself, child. I will speak with her. You are an engaged woman now; go and think happy things about your upcoming wedding. I will see you at dinner.” Elizabeth curtsied and left the study as bid.

A serious look overtook the young woman’s face as she walked back to her room. Her mother’s dislike of Joseph--she knew--was no small obstacle to overcome if this marriage was truly to take place. Elizabeth’s one comfort was the knowledge that her father had accepted Joseph’s offer already, and in front of Harold. Surely, the General would keep his word, regardless of her mother’s disapproval.

The evening meal around the Hays table that night began much like any other. Mrs. Hays talked incessantly of the Countess Beckenridge, her style and manners, her great knowledge of religious artifacts and foreign cultures. She lamented several times over the fact that they were not yet invited to the Stone Mountain Spring Ball and wondered if they would be able to go at all. Elizabeth sat nearby, stirring her food; happiness and dread mixed within her mind. She wished fervently that her father would just speak and be done with it. General Hays seemed quieter than usual; he drank several more glasses of wine with his food than normal.

When dinner concluded, the family retired to their common room. Their musical instruments had long ago been sold so there was little to do but talk.

Clearing his throat, Octavian Hays looked at his daughter.

“You look tired, child,” he said, sitting up; he placed his glass on a side-table. Hearing this, Elizabeth gave him her full attention; a small smile hovered on her face. She hoped to impress upon her father that she had not changed her mind in the least.

“I am, sir,” she said, nodding. “I wish to retire to bed, if you will excuse me.” Her father nodded, looking at his empty glass.

“Off with you then,” he said, returning her smile. “A good night to you, my dear.”

“Goodnight, father,” Elizabeth said, standing. Turning to her mother she bade her goodnight; her mother nodded, returning her attention to the small sample of silk fabric she’d taken from the dressmakers.

Once Elizabeth was gone from the room, the General stood up and walked to the fireplace. Leaning one arm against the mantle, he fixed a calm, steady gaze on his wife’s seated form; feeling the cold night air keenly, he put another log on the fire.

“My dear…” he began. “I have something of import to discuss with you.” His wife did not look at him, but nodded. “Do you wish to leave this place?” the General continued, smiling. If anything could get his wife’s attention, it was the possible improvement of their status.

True to his prediction, Mrs. Hays’ head snapped up, regarding him with awe… and suspicion.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, incredulously. “Do not tease me with such words, husband. You know above all things I wish to be miles from this lowly position.” Still smiling, the general leaned on the mantle, feeling the wine’ he’d consumed calming his nerves.

“I am in earnest, my dear,” he said, amiably. “Recent business transactions may allow us to buy a country estate and live comfortably for some time. You may even be able to purchase some new furniture.”

Eyes wide, Mrs. Hays stood, the fabric remnants forgotten; she walked forward, searching her husband’s face for signs of falsehood.

“This is wonderful news!” she said, smiling at last. “You have been reinstated in your position with the army?” The general shook his head, no. Mrs. Hays’ face fell a little but she went on. “You have attained a position in the Senate?” Hays chuckled.

“No, my dear,” he told her. “I have been offered a bride price for Elizabeth. Two hundred and sixty silvers.” Mrs. Hays regarded her husband a moment, blinking.

“That is not as much as I would have hoped for,” she said, at length. “However, it is better than nothing, I suppose.”

“It will purchase a small estate and farm…” Hays went on. “… and a house larger than this. We would be in no-one’s debt.”

“And, you would no longer be a steward,” Mrs. Hays mused aloud, beginning to pace. “You would be your own master once again.”

“Yes, lord of my own estate,” Hays said, poking the fire. “A farm, which would produce more income. We could even take on a few more servants, eventually. What do you say to that, wife?”

Mrs. Hays looked at her husband carefully.

“Who is the man who offered the bride-price?” she asked, pointedly. “Is it anyone we know? Where will she live?”

“One question at a time, my dear,” Hays said, filling his liqueur glass once more. “She would live here in Dorenvines. We do know the man, a fine, hard-working tradesman doing commissioned work for the King. He is known for his skill, as we can see from his bride-price our daughter would be well taken care of.”

Mrs. Hays looked offended.

“A tradesman? Surely not,” she said, with disdain. “We may as well marry her off to that peasant blacksmith you were so fond of.” Hays smiled, the alcohol making him a little giddy.