Lykourgos XIII: The Campaign's End
The Tenth Day of the Tenth Moon, 873 AD.
Stagspring, Central Owkrestos, Klironomea.
"A note for you, your Grace. Well, a letter containing a dozen notes, actually. I'm not really sure how this was able to fit in the envelope."
"And?"
Ilias smiled at him as he handed Lykourgos the letter, the little rascal likely having already read it through.
"And the renovations to the capital have left the planning phases. Construction will have begun by the time we reach Anaria again, or so I've been told. Only on the west and south districts though, the rest will have to wait according to the Master of Copper. Apparently the money that would be needed to refurbish the northern district could be spent on renovating two of the others, so that's what's being done."
Lykourgos rubbed at his chin for a moment, then nodded in agreement with the absent Master of Copper.
"Well, whilst I'd of course rather have all five districts refurbished and improved he has made the right call by concentrating on those two in particular. They're the ones that provide a good deal of the economy in Anaria, or at least the southern district did before the hillocks were repurposed for the nobles to live in their manses and the old workshops were torn down. Without the nobles the south can once again become a hub of craftsmen and artisans, which by itself will greatly assist with the repairs and rebuilding of the rest of the city. As for the docks, well, that should go without saying. The docks always were important to Anaria, and an improvement in their infrastructure can only yield good results for us. Yes, the Master of Copper has made the right decision in this instance. I'll send my regards to him with a letter of my thanks for his diligence soon enough. Tell me Ilias, is there anything else?"
His cupbearer nodded dutifully, and handed over a small sheaf of papers with illustrations and notes on them.
"Yes, your Grace. The Master of Copper, having been advised by the Master of Silver, thought you might find some of the plans interesting for the docks. He's attached a few examples of what is to be built there with notes explaining what they are, how they work, and why they're to be built."
Lykourgos nodded his understanding, unable to keep the smile from spreading across his face. Even so far away Elikoidi knew exactly what Lykourgos liked to see, what sort of things he'd find interesting, and it would be a nice break so see some of what was planned for the city in the days to come.
The first sheet of paper detailed plans for a more permanent series of wharfs along the coast of the Bay of Saints, completely restructuring and replacing the ailing and, in all honesty, rather poor infrastructure that the dockside had degraded into using over the last few centuries. Chief amongst the diagrams were plans for an improved series of cranes for the loading and unloading of cargo, made of wood and built into a base that looked rather like a stout stone tower. A large treadmill to the side seemed like it would enable the mechanisms to move, though whether it would end up being powered by men or donkeys he didn't know.
Similarly the warehouses that dotted the waterfront were to be torn down and rebuilt out of stone with roofing slates atop them, the wooden buildings having been a fire hazard for so long that it was a miracle that half of the dockside had only burned down four times in the last hundred years. That would certainly make a good start to improving the western district of Anaria, and in all honesty Lykourgos himself would probably have stopped there, but it seemed that Master Yzaldae was something of a city planner as well as an economist.
Many of the jetties and piers were to be built out longer and wider, and on the plans that the second sheet of paper detailed there was an entire new area to the north of the western district that was to be dedicated to the docking of huge Brythonian leviathan-ships as they came in with their hunted quarry. Lykourgos had seen one of them when he was a child once, a truly hulking ship with the carcass of the largest creature he'd ever seen set into a lowered part of the deck. It would be good to see them come into port more often, especially since almost every part of the whales they hunted could be sold and used. It was good that Master Yzaldae, despite being from Sothettar and as a result likely having never seen a Brythonian whaler before, knew the boons that having one of the only ports capable of receiving such ships in all the world would entail. Of course, in all matters such as this there was the issue of crime to think about. Docksides were notorious hotspots for criminal activity, and to combat this Yzaldae had detailed plans for a small barracks to be built into the cliff face that the rest of the city sat atop and which overlooked the western district of the city, carved into the cliffs so as not to use any more space than it needed to. Such a barracks, as well as a series of four small guard posts along the waterfront, would allow the city watch to keep a close eye on the underground of Anaria, or at least prevent too many smugglers and known pirates from making clandestine visits.
To guide ships into the harbour there was to be a small guard tower at the mouth of the bay which was to double as a lighthouse, replacing the blazing signal-fires that had been used thus far. It would certainly be a great help in preventing any shipwrecks from clogging up the bay. Well, any more shipwrecks anyhow.
The last page of the file which looked at the western district was... different. It was intended for his eyes only, or so the joint seals of the Masters of Silver and Copper seemed to imply. Opening it with a curious glint in his eyes Lykourgos beheld the plans for a separate wharf to be built nearby, on the southern outskirts of the western district. Unlike the other wharfs, two of which were civilian in nature and the new one that would be purpose built for the Brythonians, this one was entirely militaristic in nature. It was designed to be heavily guarded, to be easily defendable from both land and sea with its own walls, gates, and towers, and if the claims of the notes were accurate then it would contain room for 'a dozen carracks and two-score cogs'. Seeing as Teleytaios had little need for a navy at the moment the actual building of those ships could wait, but they would eventually be needed and so it would be good to have the infrastructure in place to house and supply them.
The last point, tacked on as almost an addendum in rushed handwriting, seemed to be the replacement of all the wooden housing in the western district with multi-story stone housing. Whilst an expensive move, it would mean that the smallest district in the city by size would be able to house almost as many as the southern district.
And with more people came more taxes.
Still, the western district wasn't the only one in the process of renovation; according to this file the southern district, once a renowned hub of workshops but having spent the last half a decade being used as grand housing for dispossessed nobles, was returning to its roots. Stone workshops, stone housing, stone taverns, and stone watchmen's barracks. Angels, that much stone is going to be expensive to ship into the city. Still, it'll be worth it in the end. These investments will last far beyond my lifetime, after all. Anaria would be the first truly modern city in the western half of Kliskorios if he had his way, followed by the other large Teleytaian settlements of Haestinghen, Aenirhen, and Brycgestow. The power he wielded in the internal affairs of Teleytaios was matched by none since perhaps the establishment of the kingdom during the Year of Desolation, which would enable him to take on these grand projects without the meddling of lords to check his ambitions. Without the lords he could increase the power of the merchant classes, who could both increase the wealth his kingdom could boast of and keep the powers of the church in check. These things were multi-purpose, they had to be, for otherwise they weren't a sound investment.
Where other, relatively smaller settlements such as Aenirhen and Haestinghen tended towards one particular industry, the same was not true of a city as large as Anaria. Within the plans for what had once been the heart of the city's industries there were places set aside for everything from stonemasons and bakers to other, rarer trades. There was to be a candle-maker, a bellfounder, a bookmaker with an annotated note that read 'import of paper from Polaeriopolis', a clothing store to sell that which had been made in Haestinghen and Aenirhen, it really had the works. Not many smithies though; there was a large building marked as being a storage-come-storefront for the work of house Sigiros, and as a result Lykourgos doubted that any local smiths would be able to compete with the quantity of goods the Grand Duke's realm could churn out. He briefly wondered if this was to be anything like the great cities of Dathan or Tildan, or perhaps even the ancient southern realms, but those thoughts were quickly pushed away. Those cities may have been magnificent, but they were built on the blood of slaves. The cities he was to build would be built by the hands of free men and women, working to earn their keep and not because of the threat of a whip behind them. His were to be the cities of the free, not cities of chains. Klironomea may have been a few centuries behind the rest of the world when it came to city planning and ensuring structures were built of stone rather than wood, but as with everything else in this land he would bring them into the future, dragging them if he had to.
Progress waited for no man, after all.
Renovations on a scale as large as this would prove to be a very expensive undertaking and take years, but seeing as he was now one of the richest men on the continent, nay, in the world, he didn't feel like there was much to worry about. If the rest of the city could be renovated to be like these plans then Anaria would become the greatest city in the world once more.
"Very good, Ilias. Very good indeed."
The cupbearer, having long since moved across the room to lounge on the windowsill, started a little as the silence was broken. Lykourgos raised an eyebrow at him.
"Careful, young man. You could have ended up out the window then."
Ilias flushed, embarrassed, then moved across the room again and cleared his throat.
"You, uh- you've got a war-council to attend in an hour, your Grace. With your commanders, I mean."
Lykourgos looked outside, noting how low the sun was hanging in the sky. It seemed he'd spent more time than he thought reviewing those documents.
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"So I do. Would you mind folding those papers back into the letter? Carefully, please; I'd like to review them again soon.
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"Plum, Lyk?"
As soon as he entered the room he caught sight of his old friend, and the small object of food that was thrown at him. Thanks to his good reaction times he caught the object of fruit that was languidly tossed across the room, and almost without thinking took a bite.
"That's good."
Romanos snorted, shaking his head a little.
"There's still one part of you that's been the same as long as I can remember knowing you for, and it's the fact that you can be bribed entirely in plums."
He shrugged at his friend, taking another bite and swallowing before speaking.
"Hey, I just know what I like. In terms of obsessions for a reigning monarch to have I think 'eating plums' is probably one of the more innocuous ones."
Symon, already seated at the table with his boots up atop it, laughed a little without turning to face him.
"He's got you there. I'd sooner a king with a favourite food than a king with a favourite method of turning your guts into soup."
"I can have both if I want!"
Rhema snickered and both Romanos and the mercenary rolled their eyes politely ignoring him and continuing with their bickering.
"He's a prince, not a king."
The sellsword captain scoffed.
"Yeah, cause that's made a fucking difference ain't it? Right, we all 'ere now? Who we waiting for?"
Lykourgos looked around the room. His brother, Rhema, was here, as were Romanos and Symon. Four Lieutenants-at-Arms were present, since he hadn't had the time to replace the slain ones from his forces and instead was just relying on those he hadn't known very well but had at least served dutifully through the last two wars. Well, all aside from Marren of course; Lykourgos knew the siege-officer well. There was also the Marshal-at-Arms, Crowe, attending, her muscular frame making even Romanos' not inconsiderable bulk look small by comparison. He hadn't spoken to her yet about the new Grand Duke being made the Master of Iron, but he had discussed this sort of thing with her before anyway; council seats could be traded just as readily as coin and lives, but at the very least he could ensure she would always be the First Marshal of the kingdom. For that matter the Grand Duke was also in attendance, having remained in Stagspring whilst his sons dealt with any dissenters back in his homeland.
"What would you all do if you were in my shoes?"
The room was silent, and Rhema looked at him with what might have been a hint of confusion.
"Come again?"
"I've got a few options in front of me," he began, not at all dissuaded by the questioning glances being thrown his way, "but I'd like to hear one or two opinions on what should come next before I make any decision by myself. Of course the campaigning season is soon to be over this year, and as such we'll be weathering out the winter months in the capital most likely, but come the spring we'll be on the march again. So, I have a few options in front of me."
Romanos nodded, seeming to understand where he was going with this.
"And if I'm not mistaken there are two options that are really standing out to you, aren't there? You stand at a crossroads here, Lyk. If you take the first option, if you march north in the springtime towards Nordicos, you'll unify western Klironomea with little to no risk, save perhaps the Licotemans getting involved to honour their marriage alliance with the Nordicans. If you act quickly enough then the western Klironomeans would be under one banner for the first time... well, for the first time since Harald."
Lykourgos nodded at his friend. That was one of the thoughts he'd had, yes, but he suspected Romanos had figured out the other as well. There weren't an infinite number of possibilities, after all. He pressed his friend to continue with a gesture of his hand and a quick word.
"Or?"
Romanos sighed.
"Or you can throw the dice, and march east into Licotemos before rounding back on Nordicos when the east has fallen. There's a greater chance for glory and riches over there, but our rear would be dangerously exposed to a foe who are, we must not forget, allied to Licotemos. Either way we'll likely find ourselves at war with both kingdoms, it's just a matter of who we think it would be better to take by surprise and who we think we can challenge in the field. The eyes of all Klironomea are upon you here, Lyk. Please, think on your next actions before we move out."
Crowe spoke up from the corner of the room, her arms crossed and her voice a deep rumble.
"Licotemos is too large to be occupied before they can call up a massed force of levies and knights to oppose us. We can't pull another Owkrestos here, your Grace. There's no way of doing this quickly. Even if we had control over Nordicos already and could march our forces in across two fronts, those being Nordicos and Triarios, they'd still have enough time and resources to challenge us in the field anyway. Better that we strike at Nordicos first and gain the sure thing, then march east."
One of the Lieutenants spoke up, a young woman whose name Lykourgos had yet to learn, who seemed to have a voice almost as deep as Crowe's from her time spent barking out orders in the field.
"If we march into Nordicos first then we'd have to contend with the fortifications of the Upperhold, then brave the mountain passes, then force our way into each of the fortified and interconnected cave networks one by one. All of this without any maps of the area and whilst being harried by both Nordicans who have fled to their hideouts above the surface rather than below it and the clans who live in the mountains. Any army would find itself whittled down into nothing after wasting years trying to pacify that region."
Lykourgos nodded again. That was also a good point. A conventional siege of the Nordican capital wouldn't end with the breaching of defences and the seizing of the royal palace, but would instead drag on for months, perhaps years, as the mountains were slowly and painstakingly pacified. It promised to be even more brutal than trying to pacify the Owkrestan wildlands, for at least any rebels who hid in those woods were hunted by Umbra between raids. Not so in the mountains, for whilst there were indeed Umbra up there they were far fewer.
Strange to think he'd believe 'less Umbra' to be a downside for once. Well, war made for strange bedfellows he guessed.
"You could also head to Kortheros instead by marching to Stratiopolis via the Soldier's March and then heading down the Tyrantroad. Just giving you another choice."
Lykourgos shook his head at the Grand Duke.
"No. The other kingdoms of the Heptarchy are already looking to us with suspicion as to where we'll strike next. If we attack Kortheros it'll give Licotemos and Nordicos time to coordinate and ready themselves, or even launch a pre-emptive strike against us. Nordicos and Licotemos are our best choices for the next campaign, and surely after five of the seven kingdoms of the Klironomoi have joined into one the last two will kneel anyway?"
"You're really underestimating just how overconfident you highborn fucks can be. Your sister thought she could stop you with an incompetent commander who had half your manpower at the Einarbrycge. Ser Aerna thought he could lead hunting parties himself whilst laying siege to us and no-one would ever try and use that as an opportunity to take him down. A few years back the widowed wife of King Aered the Unready took this city for herself, and wouldn't back down even when me and the boys had battered down the gates and came up through the sewers. You highborns can be fucking idiots when faced with overwhelming odds."
Despite the insult to his person Lykourgos couldn't help but feel a chuckle bubbling up from his throat. He quickly stifled it with a cough, but Symon had made a rather compelling point.
"Point taken, Captain Symondson. Any ideas of your own?"
The man shrugged nonchalantly where he was lounging, the Lieutenant who'd pointed out the treachery of the mountain passes grimacing as the man's boots shifted a little on the table.
"Nope. I'm just here to point out when an idea is shit so I don't have to die doing it. Apart from that I'm getting paid the same, so it makes no difference to me where we march first."
Lykourgos rubbed at his chin whilst most of the room either rolled their eyes or grumbled in discontent at the sellsword's words. They could remark on how uncouth he was all they liked, but he was instead thinking on what Romanos had said earlier, as well as the advice he'd been given by the others here. He could either march north and get drawn into a prolonged engagement in the mountains beyond the Nordican capital, or he could move east into Licotemos and Kortheros through Triarios. Decisions, decisions.
Then, after some thought, he decided to take a third option. It wasn't perhaps any better than one or the other option, but it would in his mind enable them to take the best of both worlds.
"We do both. We march north first, any army they amass we smash aside, then we tear down the walls of Upperhold."
Romanos raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"By the time we take Upperhold the people of the Nordican capital will have long retreated into their fortified caves, and we can't dig them out without wasting months in a siege and thousands of lives."
Lykourgos smiled smugly. He knew that already, but there was a relatively simple solution to be had here, which he relayed to his friend with that same smile still on his face.
"We won't be going into the mountains. We take smash their armies and tear down their defences, then we march along the Riverroad east directly to Sygomidopolis, the Licoteman capital. The road is well maintained the whole way according to Master Elikoidi's rats, and even if we haven't truly taken the Nordicans out of our wars they will at least be neutralised as a threat. There will be no risk of them marching on our backs, or on Anaria for that matter, for they won't have the men. Even if they did, they'd have very few fortified positions to fall back upon. We catch them unawares, we tear down their defences, then we march east. Those are my orders."
Lord Sigiros gave him a look of deep satisfaction. He seemed extremely pleased with the orders, as though Lykourgos was some sort of budding strategic genius.
Which was silly, of course. He was just Lykourgos.
"I concur with his Grace. Such a move will be most unexpected by our foes. I know the land well up there; I served in the Grey Company as a young man, back when the triplets who now run it were barely born. You won't be able to tunnel under those walls without serious mining equipment and many months of dangerous work, but siege hooks and ballistae loaded with round polished stone? That'll take them down in a few weeks. You can probably just leave a thousand Men-at-Arms with a thousand artillerists and move the rest of the army onwards by that point though, so it shouldn't really effect the time you spend on campaign at all. You won't be able to use carcass shot without torching the whole city outside, since it's so densely packed, but the Upperhold will fall to you provided the Nordican army can be first caught in the field. Otherwise they'll guard the passes, and you'll need to fight a battle the second the walls fall."
The man stopped stroking his short-cropped beard and turned back to Lykourgos, ending his trail of thought.
"Yes... yes, that would work well. Very good, your Grace. There are a great many achievements you have gathered in your reign so far, and it seems 'first man to seize Upperhold' will be next. Afterwards we'll march east, my forces acting as your vanguard if I could be so bold, and seize the eastern realms."
"Very well. My coronation will take place on the Day of Ascent, and we'll reconvene our armies come the dawning of spring. Until then I bid you all farewell, and good tidings."
Lykourgos nodded towards the doors before anyone else could say a word, and dismissed the gathering. He'd said all he wanted to say here. As the men and women filed out, one person stayed behind. His brother, Rhema, came to him as the council filed out with a look of mild worry across his face.
"Brother, he wishes the position of vanguard to be his own. Can you really trust him not to stab you in the back when faced with the wealth of Licotemos?"
Lykourgos smiled knowingly at his younger brother's distrust of Lord Sigiros, though he admittedly had already contemplated this very thing before now.
"It is because of that fact that I allow him the vanguard. It was my foster-father, Drytos Brathaxe, that once gave me a very valuable piece of advice. I know most people thought of him as little more than an honourable commander and relentless duellist, but the truth is that he was far cannier than most realised."
"And what was this sage advice?"
Lykourgos smiled, visibly recalling the memory of his foster-father's words.
"I remember it word-for-word. He said to 'whittle down the disloyal through attrition, such that if the knife is aimed at your back there will be none with the strength to drive it through the chainmail'."
Rhema nodded, a small yet almost predatory smile on his face.
"That is good advice, eloquently delivered as well. I'll have to keep that in mind myself just in case I ever need it."
"Yeah, well," he started, tone falling a little in bravado, "here's hoping you never need to."