Return to Clearwater: Derron(Split from Return To Clearwater: Derron And Niko) Once there, he checked on things. He was pleased that the lads had managed to salvage all the horseshoes. Now it was time to finish setting the mold for the skillet. In the back of his mind, he was wondering if dinner with Ser Tomas was a reward, or a sign of something more to come. It was still some time before dinner when one of the pages came running into the forge, looking for the Smith. He looked around, a little self-importantly, then headed for the Smith, not speaking until he was spoken to. Derron was just checking on the cast skillet. It was almost cool enough to break the mold now. When he finally noticed the page, his shoulders slumped. He sighed aloud then faced the boy. "Alright, lad. What news have you for me?" "My Lord wishes to see you," said the page. "As soon as is convenient, he says." He rose to his feet and barked at his apprentices. "No one is to touch thaty mold until I return." He then gestured for the page to lead him to His Lordship. "Let's go." He found Lord Draupaud in the Steward's office, with Ser Tomas Prinksett at his side. Lord Draupaud was turning over one of the account books. "Join us, Derron," said Lord Draupaud, as soon as he appeared at the door. "I gather you have had a problem with the Steward?" Derron stood at attention as he spoke. "Aye. My apprentices told me the man had threatened them in the forge while drunk. I arrived and he was yelling at me. I think he was trying to blame me for 'stealing his position.' He was waving a pair of red-hot tongs about, too. I decided to handle the situation. I used a bucket of water to cool the tongs, then hit him upside the head with the same bucket." He paused, wondering if he should reveal Niko's involvment. Knowing the steward had a knife wound in his arm, he added, "And the new man, Niko, managed to knock the tongs from his grip." He waited for further questions. "You seem to have dealt with the matter expeditiously," said Lord Draupaud. "Would you believe the new man someone I should consider keeping in my employ?" Derron shrugged. "I think he is deserving of at least a fair chance, Milord." "And tell me - have you looked at these account books recently?" Derron looked quizzically at the men and replied, "No, sir. That is not among my responsibilities." He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Even on a cusory inspection," said Lord Draupaud, "I have found irregularities. I would be grateful if you would go over these books with Ser Tomas and bring your findings to me - at least your first findings - after dinner." Ser Tomas looked less than delighted at the prospect of spending an afternoon with the account books. Derron spoke frankly. "Milord, my knowledge of accounts such as these is far exceeded by your own. If you have found problems, I am sure they exist. I doubt I can find others. What's more, I have plenty to keep me busy this afternoon at the forge." "Nevertheless," said Lord Draupaud, "accounts will be part of your new duties. Derron - of all the natives of Clearwater, there is none I trust as much as you. The old Steward is a knave and a fool. You are neither. I can put you in charge as Steward, or I can impose a Steward from Barrowton, and my father's estate. I believe the people would prefer you." Derron hesitated, then said, "I will be frank, Milord. Many of those who work here are from your family's original household, and probably would prefer a Steward from there. The local folk, well, some still think me a traitor for staying to work here. Some don't, that's a fact, but there are those who still bear a grudge. As for my own preference, I do not aspire to be Steward. My ambition, if I have any, is to become a master smith. And I can not achieve that if I have all the duties of Steward." His large hands were both clenched hard, but hanging at his side. "I would not frustrate a man of his ambition when he serves me well," said Lord Draupaud. "But in the office of Steward I must have a man who I can trust - and who all the people will trust to be honest - even if they mislike his allegiance to me. And there is none among my household from Barrowton of whom I could say that, save perhaps Tomas here who has won his place by his skill in arms. And there are precious few among the folk here who I can trust not to cheat me, nor to cheat the people of Clearwater. Save you, Derron Thorne. Save you." Derron knew his next words could cost him dearly. "I thank you for the trust and faith, Milord. But I do not trust myself to run both the smithy as well as the house, let alone maintain my status as an armsman. But I will agree to help with the duties until you can find someone else to take over them. Is that fair?" He was worried that he would be dismissed for such impudence. He had seen men sent packing for less than attempting to dictate terms to a noble. Then again, he was also worried that Lord Draupaud would indeed accept his terms, but never fulfill his side of the agreement. "Very well," said Lord Draupaud. "One of your responsibilities, then, will be to choose and train a worthy successor - one who you know will serve both me and the people well." He smiled thinly. "You will take what assistants you need to help you in your role. As I have said, I need a steward - but I have no wish to deprive Clearwater of the finest smith north of Winterfell." Derron paused, then nodded. "As you please, Milord." He would start seeking a reasonable replacement right away. "In the meantime, I guess I will have to see to those books. For one thing, we need to determine how much money the old Steward is owed, and what if anything he owes you." He moved to look over the ledgers. "Indeed," said Lord Draupaud. "This, then, will now be your office - and I shall leave you to your work. The Maester will doubtless wish to see me, and to tell me of Lady Draupaud's condition." He rose, clearly preparing to depart. Derron stood aside and watched the man leave, already planning his strategy. He figured an older merchant, tired of travel, who would also know how to deal with both noble and commoner alike. Within a year he should be back at his forge for good. In the meantime, he began to look at the ledgers with Ser Tomas. The first thing that became clear was that the books were in a terrible state - so badly kept that it was hide to tell whether veniality, stupidity of alcohol lay at the root of it. It rapidly became clear that the Steward had cheated Lord Draupaud, but that he had, apparently, been cheated in his turn. It seemed that most of the traders in Clearwater had been taking gross advantage of the sirtuation, either with the Steward's connivance, or through his carelessness. Derron finally pushed the books away and leaned back, then let out a small grunt. His next action would be to figure out precisely how much the former steward was owed, or owed the house. But he could not be allowed to leave. He would have Ser Tomas arrest the man for the moment until it was calculated. As for the local merchants, this meant trouble. No doubt many had gleefully taken advantage of the man. But once Derron made it known he would not be cheated, the resentment directed to him would intensify. But he had chosen his path. He would either stick to it, or leave these lands entirely. But where could he go? No, his best choice was to smooth things out here. He looked for a page or maid to take word to Ser Tomas not to let the Steward get away. Ser Tomas responded with a speed that suggested he was not far away. "How bad is it?" he asked. Ser Tomas was perhaps the one man who could help most. A native of Barrowton, he had nevertheless won more acceptance than any other 'foreigner' at Clearwater, partly through his palpable fairness, partly through his formidable skills, which were wholeheartedly at the service of Clearwater. If Derron needed support of even advice, there was no better man. Derron sighed heavily. "As best I can glean...well, truth be told, I can't glean enough yet. These books are a complete mess. The man undoubtedly cheated money from the house, but in turn was cheated by others, or perhaps he was simply reckless. Regardless, it will take a day or two to decide precisely what is owed to whom. In the meantime, he should be held in confinement. Once it's all figured, his punishment can be extracted." "I'll make sure he's held safely," agreed Ser Tomas. "What of those he had delaings with? Will there be problems in the town?" Derron shrugged and said, "I don't think there's anything we can do. If there is a way to prove outright theft or cheating that I can find, I will pursue it. If not, we'll have to leave things as they are. However, once those who profited from that fool's free-spending ways learn the identity of the new steward, I suspect they will know their game is up, and won't try anything underhanded. Certainly not more than they would any other customer." He paused, then added, "But if they do, I'll deal with them properly." Ser Tomas nodded. "In fact, an amnesty, followed by an indication that you will tolerate no nonsense, might be no bad thing. When the master is bad, those under him may be made bad by his example - or might have been that way inclined anyway. No way for you to judge now, and so best to proceed by experience." A little nod, as though he had thought over what he said - and agreed with it. Then he changed the topic. "Tell me, what do you think of our stranger?" Derron furrowed his eyebrows, thought a moment, then replied. "He certainly knows how to handle a blade. He threw a knife to disarm the steward and hit his arm cleanly." He sat back then added, "And he seems honorable enough. You would do well to keep an eye on him for potential command. His skill will certainly command respect. If his bearing does the same, then men will follow him readily." "He's young," said Ser Tomas, "but well-travelled - and in distant lands. And yet, despite his accent, his colouring is neither that of the Free Cities, and certainly not of the Dothraki, if all I have heard is true. Too young to be an exile of the War that brought our King to the Iron Throne and yet ... he could be the child of an exile." Derron shrugged again. "Possible. I have not probed him for his past. It did not feel as if it were my business." He sighed then said, "I coiuld ask him, but I suppose it may be he will be more responsive to you." He reached for the ledgers. "I hope to finish sorting out how much the Stweard owes before evening meal. I will report when I am done." Ser Tomas nodded. "I'll see you then." He made his way to the door, then hesitated and turned. He spoke without looking at Derron. "My Lord is a good jusge of men - and he's made a good choice in trusting you, Derron Thorne. It may not be work you want ... But it will be work you'll be good at." Derron grimaced as he opened the ledger. "Small comfort, that," he said softly. He might not like the job, but he was damned if he would do it poorly. He would determine how badly the man had cheated the house, even if it meant eating supper at this very desk. He quickly discovered that the steward had cheated the House very badly indeed. It had started slowly - often so subtly that the petty deceptions were hard to track. Some might be general anomalies, some might be mistakes, some might be carelessness. But over time, the frauds and cheats had become more and more blatant, and there had been less attempt to disguise the corruption - the steard had been almost contemptuous in the openness of his trickery. And, as might be expected when a man in such a powerful position was corrupt, his poison had begun to spread to all he touched. The traders in the town had responded to his cheating by making increased demands - which he had met. Those in the Castle who were meant to budget had grown careless in their turn, so the requirement for candles made it seem that even the servants halls must be lighted with the finest beeswax candles, and a great host of objects that could have been made or created within the walls of the keep were lazily purchased from outside, including such staples as bread and beer (the consumption of which seemed to exceed the water of the Long Lake if the accounts were to be believed. Ser Tomas returned shortly before supper. "Come to the tilting yard," he said as saw as he saw Derron. "You look as though you need to strike a few good blows to relieve your feelings before supper." Derron was glowering as he stood. "I'd just as soon strike almost everyone member of the household staff," he said through clenched teeth. He followed Ser Tomas to the yard and began loosening his shoulders up. He then took a wooden sword and began beating on one of the training dummies. But he quickly lost all form and simply kept swinging hard, until finally the wooden sword splintered. Derron then threw the handle across the yard, cursing up a storm. He looked at the sky, then turned to Ser Tomas. "I have stepped into a bog that will never release me. The amount that man owes the house is more than he will earn in a lifetime. But the worst aspect is his lackadaisical attitude spread among the staff. Everyone used more than their budget, wasting more money than you'll believe. Now, I will incur the wrath of everyone here when I impose tight restrictions. Not only will the local people resent me, the staff will loathe me. It is one thing for me to cuff my apprentices when they aren't paying attention, but if try that with the cooks or the maids or whomever, it won't work. Argh!" He stood there breathing heavily, obviously furious. "Cuffing won't," agreed Ser Tomas, who had been leaning against a wall to watch Derron's fercious attack. "Working out who the honest ones are and getting them on your side - appointing them to positions of responsibility ... that will work. You can't do this alone, man. You'll need a team behind you, and with you. I can suggest a few names - but I'll wager you'll know them as well as I. And they'll be grateful for promotion, but more grateful for a chance to be fairly rewarded for honourable service." Derron was silent a while, then said, "I will meet with all the heads after supper. Would you promise to give all my apprentices their first lessons with arms, personally? I will feel more comfortable holding the meeting by my forge, and I want them safely out of the way." "I'll do it, if that's what you wish," said Ser Tomas Prinksett. "But, if you like, I could be at your side, lending you support. The choice is yours." Derron shook his head as he said, "No, I need to establish my authority. I prefer them to think of me that way, rather than as merely acting out your commands. Or His Lordship's." He was already figuring out what he would say when he met with them as a group. Ser Tomas nodded approval. "Aye, start as you mean to continue. That's always the best. But perhaps you'll come by my room for an ale afterwards. Aerin will be there, and you know you are one of the very few people that she holds in high respect." He hesitated, and then said, "I've done something that you might think foolish. She's been driving me made for training with a blade. I told her to seek instruction of our travelling friend." Derron blinked a coupl eof times and grinned. "Well, I'll tell her that we shoud not craft her a personal weapon until her preferred style is known and she stops growing. I will be there." He left and went to wash up for supper. His apprentices were excited about getting some instruction from Ser Tomas himself. Categories: WinterChillsGameLogs, Clearwater |
