It was Percy who spoke first. “Divide the earldom? How?”
They were interested, at least, Philip thought with relief. “I’m going to propose a division so generous that you would be mad to turn it down,” Philip said to him. He turned back to Regan. “I’m offering you the best half.”
They looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he said no more. Regan said: “What do you mean, the best half?”
“What is more valuable—arable land or forest?”
“Arable land, certainly.”
“Then you shall have the arable and I’ll have the forest.”
Regan narrowed her eyes. “That will give you timber for your cathedral.”
“Correct.”
“What about pasture?”
“Which do you want—the cattle pastures or the sheep grazing?”
“The pasture.”
“Then I’ll have the hill farms with their sheep. Would you like the income from markets, or the quarry?”
Percy said: “The market inc—”
Regan interrupted him. “Suppose we said the quarry?”
Philip knew she had understood what was on his mind. He wanted the stone from the quarry for his cathedral. He knew she did not want the quarry. The markets made more money for less effort. He said confidently: “You won’t, though, will you?”
She shook her head. “No. We’ll take the markets.”
Percy tried to look as if he were being fleeced. “I need the forest to hunt,” he said. “An earl must have some hunting.”
“You can hunt there,” Philip said quickly. “I just want the timber.”
“That’s agreeable,” Regan said. Her agreement came a little too quickly for Philip’s comfort. He felt a pang of anxiety. Had he given something important away without knowing it? Or was she simply impatient to dispose of a trifling detail? Before he could give it much thought she went on: “Suppose we go through the deeds and charters in Earl Bartholomew’s old treasury and find there are some lands that we think should be ours and you think should be yours?”
The fact that she was getting down to such details encouraged Philip to think she was going to accept his proposal. He concealed his excitement and spoke coolly. “We’ll have to agree on an arbitrator. How about Bishop Henry?”
“A priest?” she said with a touch of her habitual scorn. “Would he be objective? No. How about the sheriff of Shiring?”
He would be no more objective than the bishop, Philip thought; but he could not think of anyone who would satisfy both sides, so he said: “Agreed—on condition that if we disputehisdecision we have the right to appeal to the king.” That ought to be a sufficient safeguard.
“Agreed,” Regan said; then she glanced at Percy and added: “If my husband pleases.”
Percy said: “Yes, yes.”
Philip knew he was close to success. He took a deep breath and said: “If the overall proposal is agreed, then—”
“Wait a moment.” Regan stopped him. “It’s not agreed.”
“But I’ve given you everything you want.”
“We might yet get the whole earldom, no division.”
“And you might get nothing at all.”
Regan hesitated. “How do you propose to handle this, if we do agree?”
