Read Online The Barrow by Mark Smylie - Free Book Online Page A

can’t legally use it in the city. If they’re bringing goods for sale, then an extra penny for each wheel of a wagon or cart, pack animal, and teamster animal, and an extra penny for each animal for sale.”
    He had pointed down to the docks. “Each ship docking pays a fee to the dock masters, ten shillings a mast, as well as a fee for the weight and content of the cargo that it’s delivering. So just from the coming and going of men and animals, the city probably generates, oh I don’t know, I’d say maybe thirty thousand pennies on a slow day, many times that during one of the festivals. And that doesn’t begin to account for the flow of money from tenant rents, business licenses, usage fees, and poll taxes that fill the city’s coffers throughout the year.”
    She’d felt dizzy when she’d thought about it. That much each day, and just from the gates and docks of this one city; no wonder the High King is the wealthiest man in the Middle Kingdoms , she’d thought. Though he’s also got a lot of expenses .
    â€œFurther, the fact that the toll is cheaper than other towns and cities acts as an encouragement for people to come here with their goods for sale rather than another market,” Stjepan had added. “Plus, since the toll is only three pennies, the High King can raise it for a month or two and people will still think it’s reasonably fair. He’s done that six times in the last decade when he’s needed to raise some extra funds quickly, though everyone starts to grumble after a bit.”
    They paid their pennies dutifully when they got to the head of the line, and received the usual warning about weapons in the city. “Swords may only be borne in the city by knights and the high nobility, unless by dispensation of the City Watch,” said the bored guardsman. “But then you lot know that, eh, Black-Heart?”
    â€œAye, we know that,” grunted Stjepan.
    The gate captain appeared on a stone landing just inside the gates and called out to them, waving them over to the side. “Ho, Black-Heart!” said the man, a tall, balding Aurian with pockmarked skin. He wore an infantry half-harness and the High King’s colors, with a mail skirt, cuisses and poleyns, and light leather boots that laced in the front, his brace of sword and dagger hanging on his left. The landing was high enough that he had to lean over a wooden rail to shake Stjepan’s hand, even with Stjepan mounted. “Welcome home.”
    â€œSir Owen Lirewed, good to see you,” said Stjepan. “You remember Harvald and young Erim?” Harvald barely looked over at him, his eyes intent on the city street before them, but Erim gave Owen a courteous half-bow from the saddle.
    â€œAye, that I do,” grinned the gate captain. “Is your return to the city official?”
    â€œI think perhaps it might be best if I were still somewhere afield,” said Stjepan, casually slipping some coins into Owen’s hand.
    â€œI’ll leave your names off the official reports, then,” Sir Owen said. “Best of luck with the unofficial ones.”
    â€œYeah, well, nothing we can do about that, really,” said Stjepan sourly.
    â€œI suppose not,” laughed Sir Owen. “The city missed you, Black-Heart.”
    â€œYou’re a liar, Sir Owen. I’m sure it didn’t notice I was gone at all,” Stjepan said with a light touch of his fingers to the brim of his hat, and then they urged their horses forward into the growing morning traffic of the street ahead of them as the gate captain laughed at their receding backs, jangling the coins in his hand.
    The West Gate opened up onto the start of the High Promenade, which ran straight out in front of them to the main plaza of the Market Quarter in the outer city, through the Gate of Eldyr, up to the great University of Therapoli and its Quarter, to High Plaza, and then angled