In the center of the town square, beneath the gray granite monument of the founding masons, two heavy oak tables were brought from the courthouse, scrubbed clean. Then he set side by side.
On the right table rested the ancient bog-oak chest containing the 1,800 silver crowns of The Deep Gallery Emergency Extraction Locked deposit, unsealed by court order and guarded by Sile Rook and two royal court guards.
On the left table sat the master town balance. A four-foot brass scale tested against the King’s standard weights, presided over by court clerk Jonathan and Nessa Vale.
Tomas Reed sat behind the paying ledger, with Marta Cole seated at his right hand. Before them stretched a long, orderly line of eighty mountain families. Widows in black wool shawls, gray-bearded sons who had worked their entire lives in debt, and young grandchildren who had never seen an honest silver coin.
“Family Number One: Dennis Cole,” Tomas announced, his voice ringing through the square.
Marta Cole stood up. Her hands were shaking as Tomas counted twenty-two heavy silver crowns and five silver coins from the chest onto the brass pan. The coins clinked with the clear, musical chime of pure royal sterling.
