Guardians of the West

army now. If a nobleman goes into trade, though, he doesn't have to pay any commercial taxes. The only real difference between him and any other tradesman is that he happens to have a title.
    His shop is the same as mine, and he spends his time the same way that I do -but I have to pay the tax, and he doesn't."
    "That doesn't seem very fair," Garion agreed.
    "What makes it worse is that I have to charge higher prices in order to pay the tax, but the nobleman can cut his rates and steal my customers away from me."
    "That's going to have to be fixed," Garion said. "We'll eliminate that exclusion."
    "The nobles won't like it," Joran warned.
    "They don't have to like it," Garion said flatly.
    "You're a very fair king, your Majesty."
    "Fairness doesn't really have all that much to do with it," Garion disagreed. "How many nobles are in business here in the city?"
    Joran shrugged. " A couple dozen, I suppose."
    "And how many other businessmen are there?"
    "Hundreds."
    "I'd rather have two dozen people hate me than several hundred."
    "I hadn't thought of it that way," Joran admitted.
    "I sort of have to," Garion said wryly.
    The following week a series of squalls swept in off the Sea of the Winds, raking the rocky isle with chill gales and tattered sheets of slanting rain. The weather at Riva was never really what one would call pleasant for very long, and these summer storms were so common that the Rivans accepted them as part of the natural order of things. Ce'Nedra, however, had been raised far to the south in the endless sunshine at Tol Honeth, and the damp chill which invaded the Citadel each time the sky turned gray and soggy depressed her spirits and made her irritable and out of sorts.
    She customarily endured these spells of bad weather by ensconcing herself in a large green velvet armchair by the fire with a warm blanket, a cup of tea, and an oversized book -usually an Arendish romance which dwelt fulsomely on impossibly splendid knights and sighing ladies perpetually on the verge of disaster. Prolonged confinement, however, almost always drove her at last from her book in search of other diversions.
    One midmorning when the wind was moaning in the chimneys and the rain was slashing at the windows, she entered the study where Garion was carefully going over an exhaustive report on wool production on crown lands in the north. The little queen wore an ermine-trimmed gown of green velvet and a discontented expression. "What are you doing?" she asked.
    "Reading about wool," he replied.
    "Why?"
    "I think I'm supposed to know about it. Everybody stands around talking about wool with these sober expressions on their faces. It seems to be terribly important to them."
    "Do you really care that much about it?"
    He shrugged. "It helps to pay the bills."
    She drifted over to the window and stared out at the rain. "Will it never stop?" she demanded at last.
    "Eventually, I suppose."
    "I think I'll send for Arell. Maybe we can go down into the city and look around the shops."
    "It's pretty wet out there, Ce'Nedra."
    "I can wear a cloak, and a little rain won't make me melt. Would you give me some money?"
    "I thought I gave you some just last week."
    "I spent it. Now I need some more."
    Garion put aside the report and went to a heavy cabinet standing against the wall. He took a key from a pocket in his doublet, unlocked the cabinet and pulled out the top drawer. Ce'Nedra came over and looked curiously into the drawer. It was about half-filled with coins, gold, silver, and copper, all jumbled together.
    "Where did you get all of that?" she exclaimed.
    "They give it to me from time to time," he answered. "I throw it in there because I don't want to carry it around. I thought you knew about it."
    "How would I know about it? You never tell me anything. How much have you got in there?"
    He shrugged. "I don't know."
    "Garion!" Her voice was shocked. "Don't you even count it?"
    "No. Should I?"
    "You're obviously not a Tolnedran. This isn't the whole royal treasury, is it?"
    "No. They keep that someplace else. This is just for personal expenses, I think."
    "It has to be counted, Garion."
    "I don't really have the time, Ce'Nedra."
    "Well, I do. Pull that drawer out and bring it over to the table."
    He did that, grunting slightly at the weight, and then stood smiling fondly as she sat down and happily started counting money. He had not realized just how much sheer pleasure she could take in handling and stacking coins. She actually glowed