Meanwhile, as Corco spent the night with maps and plans, others were having their own kind of fun, in their own ways.
Atau's own pulsing headache woke his tired mind. With a groan, he tried to raise his body, but his eyes were pressed closed from pain and his arms felt weak. After a second of struggle, he sank back down into his bed and stretched out his limbs.
Wait, this isn't my bed.
Confused, Atau looked around the room that seemed vaguely familiar, before he finally remembered the previous night, and his time with Tama. Exhausted in both body and spirit, he sank back into the sheets and mumbled, “Dammit, not again.”
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While Atau was struggling with a relapse, Corco was busy with his country. Now that they would be involved in a war once again, he spent the next few days planning the adjusted development of his kingdom. On top of that, he would also have to consider the Green Island's development from now on. At the same time, he also trudged through the slog of papers and stamps and somehow came out alive on the other side.
After these days of hard work, he was ready to move back to Rasacopa. Although work in Saniya was far from finished, they needed to deliver their first batch of anti-malaria medicine, together with a new batch of weapons, soldiers, gunpowder, and cement. However, before he could go, there was one last issue he needed to resolve.
Over the following months, he may struggle to keep in contact with the local lords, since he preferred to spend his time in Rasacopa, where he would be more needed, and where he would be able to be with Sumaci. While Fadelio may be around to hold the banquets for him, a banquet hosted by a warrior simply wasn't the same as a banquet held by a king. After all, the banquets were a key to his political strategy, and the lords needed to be kept quiet. At least once a month, Corco held a feast in his castle. During those feasts, his cooks, musicians and other talents would show off their abilities with their newest creations, wowing the guests with their sophistication and ability. This had inspired the other nobles in the city, who would launch a banquet or some other social occasion of their own every day.
Although he wasn't always present for all of them, Corco did his best to make time and show up every once in a while, often unannounced. During these banquets, Corco did most of his negotiations these days, signing massive trade deals with his fellow lords. After all, the pie of Saniya was massive, and everyone in the south wanted to have a piece of it.
For all these reasons, the southern lords needed to be part of the banquets, or they would miss out on the extremely lucrative cooperation. If they weren't at the banquets, they would never enjoy the benefits of Saniya's economic strength, and they would be considered uncultured hicks by their fellow lords.
This mixture of benefits and cultural pressure forced even the reluctant lords to make Saniya their permanent homes. However, if they were here all throughout the year, they couldn't be back home on their own estates. Slowly, over time, their influence over their own region would be reduced, which would give Corco greater power to rule them from central Saniya. In this way, bit by bit, he would eventually create an absolutist monarchy and thus make the lords superfluous, before anyone would notice.
This plan required his presence, but until the end of the war, he would be away for most of the time. Thus, he had organized a surprise banquet for them the day before he left, in addition to the regular monthly banquets in the castle. Although it wouldn't make up for his absence, at least it showed his dedication towards Saniya's newly formed high society.
As was the case for most of Saniya's festivities these days, today's banquet was different from the old and stuffy meetings of years past. Rather than a row of benches in a dark hall, where everyone could get drunk together, Corco had arranged the banquet in one of the castle's gardens. There were still copious spirits, but today, all of them had been laced with tea, creating a lighter and more aromatic drink.
At the same time, the people didn't just sit in a spot, but stood or paraded around the large installation, which created a more open feel and prevented the lords from drinking too much. Around every corner, Corco had placed a musician or two, to play simple, soothing melodies on the newest instruments the city's flute makers, luthiers, and other masters had come up with. Overall, the atmosphere of the banquet screamed sophistication and style.
Since it would be his last banquet for a while, Corco had pulled out all the stops this time. His cooks had been busy all day as well, and had prepared a opulent feast enough to make anyone's mouth water. It would be both a symbol of Saniya's prosperity, as well as a sign of his sincerity towards his guests. Though this time, there was one guest in particular that Corco aimed to make a good impression on.
In a secluded part of the garden, Corco found the tall Arcavian stand by himself and stare into the darkening evening sky.
“Long time no see,” the king said as he walked towards the guest. In response, Dedrick turned around. Although he didn't look surprised to meet the king, his entire body seemed a bit stiff.
“Yeah, it's been a while,” he replied. He was as succinct in his words as always, but today he seemed far more taciturn than his usual, boisterous self.
“So why haven't you been around these days? It's been months since you last showed up here,” Corco asked, while he handed one of the two drinks he had been carrying to the mercenary captain.
“You stationed me at Qarasi Castle, remember?” Dedrick said as be grabbed the drink. “No time to come back when I have to protect the border.”
“The border isn't at Qarasi Castle anymore,” Corco argued. “These days, the border is in Tacicir north of the Narrows, and defending that place is the local lord's responsibility. Plus, it's not you who got stationed in the castle. It's the wolf mercenaries. We're not in a war right now, so there's no reason to stick to that place all the time. Surely you can take some time off to visit the greatest city on earth, right?”
“Sure I can. I'm here now, ain't I?” Dedrick grinned, finally back to his usual self.
“I guess that's true. So what do you think of our little city?”
“It's a good place. I've been walking around the last few days, ever since I came back here. It's not the largest city I've been to, but I don't think I've seen a better place to live than this, not even back home.”
Corco didn't miss the mention of Dedrick's 'home'. Even after all these years, he still considered himself an outsider in Medala. It didn't bode well for the offer the king had prepared, but he still had to try.
“That's right. We're the greatest place on earth, and we're only getting greater every day. In the future, the wealth and knowledge of the earth will accumulate here in Saniya, and the entire world will envy us for it. Arts and culture will develop farther than anywhere, and we'll be the center of industrial military technology development as well. Whatever you want to have, whatever you want to be, you can become it here, at least if you have enough talent and drive.”
“That's some mighty thick steam you're blowing there, boss.” Dedrick laughed, before he turned quiet for a second, seemingly lost in thought.
In the end, he said, “But you're probably not that far off. I don't know much about much, but I know that this place looks busy like a beehive. That's why I'm convincing my guys to stay here once their contracts run out. They're better off here rather than in Arcavia, and with the coin they'll get from you at the end of the contract, they can start whatever life they feel like. Back home, they have no foundation, and most of them will only be robbed of their new wealth by crafty and greedy people.”
Dedrick's explanation gave Corco some hope, so he asked the most important question, the one he had been avoiding for years now.
“So what about you? Be it as a general or as some kind of administrator, there's always a place in my court for you if you stay here. You know that. We're about to move into a crucial phase of development, and I could use some reliable people.”
Dedrick sighed and lost his flippant attitude at once.
“You know I can't do that, boss. There's things I need to do back home. I can't stay, even if I want to.”
“Yeah I know,” Corco replied in resignation. “Your family heritage. Your territory.”
Although Dedrick loved to style himself as an uncultured mercenary, in truth, he was born nobility. He was one of Arcavia's many knights, though his family had their fief taken from them when he was still very young. Back then, there had been no chance for Dedrick to defend his family property, so he could only flee his home and seek his fortune elsewhere. In the end, his strength acquired through cultivation as well as his knowledge of tactics and knack for leadership had allowed him to excel with his mercenary group.
Through Corco's employment, Dedrick had made a lot of money, and he stood to earn much more once his contract was up. By then, he would be rich enough to expand his troops and retake his family home.
And now that Medala was the focus of both Cahlia and Borna's foreign policy, his status in the southern kingdom would also give him certain privilege back home, at least enough to defend his claim against slander. After all, the local kings would value a man who had spent years in a land that had loaded the arcavian ships with so much wealth in recent years.
Although Corco was aware of all these facts, he had still hoped that Dedrick would forget his old grievances, leave behind his old life and simply start a new one in Medala. Here, everything would be easier for him, he wouldn't need to struggle and fight at every step. Instead, he could focus on personal fulfillment, whatever that meant to him.
Back home, life would be hard, and there was a good chance he would die in his attempt to reclaim his birth right, all because he felt like he owed it to his dead family's glory. However, Corco also understood Dedrick's plight, since his own story before his return to Medala was remarkably similar. Just like Dedrick, Corco had been robbed of his birthright, and forced away across the ocean, into a lower class. Although the mercenary seemed too polite to say something, the king's words had already been hypocritical and carried little weight. Thus, he made no more attempts to persuade his friend.
Instead, he pulled a pistol from within his robes. This was one of the single shooter wheel locks created by Egidius, one he had carried ever since he had left Arcavia. Back during the Succession War, the same model weapon had saved his life. Although these old guns had been replaced by better, more advanced weapons by now, they still carried special value to him and his early group of friends. When they had left for Medala, all of them had received one of these identical pistols from Corco, except for Dedrick, who had always insisted that he was just a sword for hire.
“You're not gonna refuse me again, are you?” he asked and held the weapon's stock out to the mercenary. “Because it looks like this is the last chance for you to take it. You'll probably need it when you get home, and I was just keeping this one for you anyways. If you don't want it, I may as well throw it out.”
“In that case, I'll make good use of it.”
With a heavy expression, Dedrick took the pistol.
“Let's hope you don't need to,” Corco said with a wry smile. “Good luck back home.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Thus, Dedrick trudged away, walking past an oncoming Atau. Although the admiral held up his hand in greeting, Dedrick didn't even notice him, since he was staring at the weapon his hands the entire time.
“What's up with that guy?” Atau asked and pointed back at the receding knight.
“Forget about it,” Corco sighed. “He'll tell you if he feels like it, or if you get him sufficiently drunk.”
“I'd rather not.” Atau pulled a face like he had bitten a lemon.“Drinking sounds dangerous right now, not making that mistake again.”
Although his words were vague, Corco knew what he was referring to. Finally, something managed to make him smile today.
“Is that so?” he asked and looked around behind Atau. “So where's your girlfriend?”
“...Tamaya isn't my girlfriend,” the admiral insisted in a weak tone.
“Right, and yet you knew exactly who I was talking about.”
“Look, Laqhis.” Atau pressed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Can we just leave this matter behind us? I'm really not in the mood for any more relationship talk, with anyone. I'd rather get some work done, and you know the Arcavians aren't gonna wait on us. I'm ready to set sail and leave harbor whenever you are.”
Ever since Atau's return, Corco had kept tabs on him and Tama. Even if he didn't want to, Fadelio made sure that the king was kept informed. Apparently, Atau had spent most of his time in Saniya with Tama. Though most of it was against his will, he had still spent the night in her manor twice. From the looks of things, their relationship was certainly on a good path. Still, it looked like Atau needed some more time to think things through, something Corco was more than willing to grant him.
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“No worries, we'll be back at sea tomorrow,” he said with a heavy heart. From now on, there would be little more time for city building. Now, they would have to fight again, both with cannons and with nature.
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In the distance, an impressive fleet of strange vessels left Saniya's harbor. Although there was no official announcement about the king's departure, the rumors had long spread, so everyone in the city more or less knew the truth. Thus, a large crowd had come together that morning to watch the spectacle and wish their navy good luck.
Among the masses stood several figures who had particular interest in this development, beyond mere feelings of patriotism. Although they were not aware of each other's existence, they were of one mind. So soon after his return, the king left once again on a foreign adventure. They wondered if it would affect the local politics. But to their luck, the figures didn't have to think too much. All they had to do was inform their superiors.
Thus, the first of the figures stole himself away from the crowd and turned a few dark corners, until he reached a quiet spot in a local tavern. On a small piece of paper, he scribbled a coded message, while looking around to make sure he wasn't observed. Once his work was done, he folded and sealed the paper and left. Through the city's alleys, he reached the secret passing-off point organized by their master.
There, he handed the message to a runner on stand-by. This message would contain all the relevant information that had been collected these days, and, most importantly, the newest development of the king's departure. Without any word or any complaint, the runner picked up the paper and began his work. In order to avoid suspicion, he maintained walking pace all the way to the edge of the city, and even a bit past the city limits.
He maintained his speed until he had reached the edge of the livestock market. This place had developed spontaneously, as a result of both the constant stream of animals the city needed, as well as the new laws that denied those very animals entry into Saniya's city limits.
In this chaotic environment, no one would notice another busy man, since everyone was busy anyways. Farmers would argue with butchers on the price of individual cows or pigs, while ambitious investors would scream about the value of their newest breeds, and all the animals were blaring in their own language to add to the chaos. From here, the runner could speed up without concern.
Thus, he began his work in earnest, and rushed down the even, wide roads of Chawir. All along the path, he traveled south-east, past the newly developed fields, with the long, even irrigation canals between them.
He didn't stop until he reached the new town of Harkay, which had grown so quickly that it rivaled the size of some estate capitals by now. Although Harkay was the goal of the runner's journey, the message still had a long way to go. Thus, he passed the letter on to his colleague, who continued the same work, rushing ever south-east.
Although he soon left the farms of the Pluritac family behind for the surrounding cows, the quality of the roads didn't decline. In fact, many of the lords had begun to buy cement and asphalt from the king for their own building projects, and many had even accepted funds from Saniya to help them with the construction. With a better connection to Saniya, their territories would be able to get a bigger piece of the growing benefits that the harbor city created.
Thus, all the lords were eager to follow Corcopaca's example, and modeled their own lands after the king's territory. Eventually, this runner reached the end of his powers as well, and once again handed off the important message.
Eventually, the message began to shake, for all at once, the roads had lost their shine. This territory was one of the few that still worked with the old gravel paths that had been so characteristic of Sachay's landscape in the past. Under such harsh conditions, the third and final runner carried the letter all the way to its goal, on the second day of the letter's journey.
On the horizon stretched Kapra, the copper city, home of House Ogulno. Compared to Saniya, the mood here was much different, with less energetic people, and a gloomy feel all throughout the streets. However, the city still had a place that looked prosperous, even after the recent decline of the city's copper mines.
That place was, of course, the seat of House Ogulno's power, as well as their home, the impressive Ogulno Castle, high atop the Copper Hill. Over there, the letter's recipient resided. At the castle's entrance, the third runner handed the paper off to a servant who would continue the chain, thus ending the runner's journey. Soon, the letter would reach the end of its travels as well, and would finally fulfill its purpose.
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At the same time as the letter made its way into Kapra, the recipient of the message entered one of the more secretive rooms inside Ogulno Castle's Starlight Courtyard. This reclusive yard was tucked away in the corner of the castle and off-limits even to most warriors of the Ogulno family. However, it was also connected to the city streets via a secret passage, to let people enter or exit the yard unseen. Here, House Ogulno would hold meetings that were less than noble, and meet with people that they wouldn't want to – or dare to – openly associate with.
As usual when Lord Ogulno entered this room, his guest was already there. On a small, squeaky chair in the empty room sat a tall, fair-skinned man in the gaudy clothes of the Arvcavians. Although the tea in front of the guest had long ceased to steam, he didn't show any irritation. Like all merchants, Kolbrandt DeVaerter knew how to hide his true feelings behind a fake smile.
“Lord Ogulno, agreeing on negotiations with us was a wise move,” the merchant said as he stood up to greet his host. “At last I have the chance to meet the great patriarch of the Copper Hill for myself. I have heard many great stories of your prowess, and seeing you now, they seem to be insufficient to describe the person, if anything.”
Rather than get roped in by cheap compliments, Ogulno frowned.
“You have annoyed me for years, and you keep bribing my warriors to arrange a meeting for you. Since you are so persistent, I may as well hear what you have to say, foreigner. This way, we will get this matter behind us and we can go our separate ways again.”
Without taking DeVaerter's outstretched hand, Ogulno sat on the tall, comfortable chair that his men had prepared for him.
“I am surprised that you would say so, Lord Ogulno,” the merchant said as he sat back down without a word of complaint. “I thought you would appreciate new allies. Even more since you are enemies with King Corcopaca, just like us.”
“And I thought you were friends with my annoying nephew,” Ogulno countered.
“It seems like you are well-informed about my past, sire.”
For once, he saw genuine surprise in the merchant's eyes. It made Ogulno proud of the work he had done these years. If this merchant kept underestimating him, he would suffer dearly.
“You are a famous merchant from the north of the Borna Kingdom,” Ogulno began to explain. “Back when my annoying nephew was still in exile, the two of you ran ships together, made money together like thieves. So I know who you are, and I know whether or not to trust you.”
“However, at the moment I am no longer a free merchant and business partner of King Corcopaca. That was many years in the past. Now, I am employed by the Reformed Kingdoms of Cahlia and Borna, to fulfill their wishes and give them what they desire. And King Corcopaca is in the way of both.”
As he thought about a possible reply, Ogulno's eyes ran across the dark and windowless room. Although DeVaerter's words held some truth, Ogulno wouldn't be so easily swayed. Neither of them had mentioned the exact nature of DeVaerter's offer yet, but it wasn't difficult to guess. In some form or another, the foreigners wanted Ogulno to support their invasion of Medala.
While he was at odds with most of the southern lords at this time, he still wasn't eager to betray his own and hand his ancestral lands to the foreigners, no matter what they offered him. Even more, should the plans of the foreigners fail, they could simply retreat back to Port Ulta, or back across the sea.
However, Ogulno's estate would be the first to suffer from the retaliation of the southern kingdom. With such high risks and both low rewards as well as moral considerations, Ogulno wouldn't be roped in so easily. Since he couldn't reject the proposal based on DeVaerter's previous relationship with Corco, he simply picked another flaw. There were plenty to choose from after all.
“No matter what you say, you are still an outsider,” he said. “Why would a great lord of Sachay such as I work with outsiders against his own people? Just because my king has not favored me for a while? House Ogulno is many centuries old. The next generation may have much better relations with its peers. So why risk it all over nothing?”
“Nothing?” the merchant asked. “I have not offered anything yet.”
“Yet any offer of yours cannot be guaranteed, no matter how good it may sound. The Sachay lords are famously suspicious, even towards the other Yaku. Why would one among them trust you?”
“Well, so far I have not suggested anything that would require trust either.”
Ogulno snorted in derision.
“Do you take me for a fool? Your plans are obvious and blatant. You have control of Port Ulta, but can touch nothing else in the south. You want access to the Verduic Sea, but you are cut off by the southern kingdom, which has also been a constant thorn in your side. So what you want is twofold: First, you want to find a stable route through Medala, since your northern routes are troubled by bandits and wars. Second, you want to rid yourself of the southern king – your staunchest opponent in Medala. That is why you are here, is it not? Your masters want to move their soldiers through my lands, to surprise attack the southern kingdom at its heart. However, who guarantees that you will not turn around and kill me once you are done with Saniya? Who guarantees that your soldiers will not plunder my lands on your march? Who guarantees that I will not be attacked once you fail?”
Rather than reply, DeVaerter looked around the empty room with a frivolous expression. In fact, most of the castle looked much the same these days. Although Ogulno still retained his majesty on the outside, he had been forced to secretly sell many of his family's treasures to retain the size of his army, and to buy some new influence up in Arguna.
“Lord Ogulno, you live quite frugally here.”
The merchant's words hit the lord right in his weakest point. His chest contracted and squeezed his heart, until his anger and embarrassment burst forth.
“How dare you slander me like this, little merchant!? Do you not want to live!?” he shouted. Unperturbed by the threat, the merchant continued.
“In fact, it is well known in Medalan's upper circles that you have been selling off your valuables. No matter how hard you try to hide it, the truth will always leak somewhere. You have been hit hard by King Corcopaca's attacks, have you not?”
This time, Ogulno's anger was stuck in his throat. He wanted to refute, but it seemed like the merchant had also prepared well for today, so he remained silent.
“That is to be expected,” the merchant continued. “Master Fastgrade has always been fantastic at ruining the livelihood of others, so long as he puts his mind to it. Considering the master's abilities, I am sure your real finances look much worse than even the rumors would suggest.”
DeVaerter paused for effect.
“Even worse, your own wife and children had to leave for Arguna, and now you are left here all alone. Not only do you hope that they will forge new relations there to end your political isolation, you also fear that you may be attacked by your own people any day now. You fear that you may suffer the same fate as Lord Rupilo of the central kingdom. Is that not correct? However, they will also need a lot of money to continue their operations. Pretending to be rich is costly, even more so in the silver city. In the end, that is the reason you met with me. You are surrounded by enemies, and you are desperate for allies. Yet no one but us will talk to you. So why act out this play and pretend as if you despise working with us? The truth is that we both have what the other needs.”
Again, Ogulno's eyes drifted off in search of windows that weren't there. Although he wanted to get angry, he really didn't have the energy for it. Not anymore, not after years of political suppression. Bit by bit, Corco had squeezed the life out of him and his estate.
Although he understood that he only had to bow his head to be forgiven, he wouldn't lower his head in front of his own nephew. That wasn't something his proud heart would allow. In the first place, it had been the little king's fault for being too greedy for power, not his. He was in the right, so why should he give in?
However, the result was that he was isolated, and his coffers empty. In the end, the merchant was right: Working with the foreigners was his best option. Even so, Ogulno still stubbornly insisted. If nothing else, he could force better conditions and more guarantees out of the merchant.
“Whatever you say, your plan is not feasible. And my house will not be involved in any suicidal plans. Even if I let your army march through my estate and allow you to fight the king, how many men could you possibly field? I know that most of the central kingdom's armies are still tied up in the north, in their constant standoff against the northern kingdom. You cannot rely on King Pacha's forces, only on your own. But unlike you, I also know the lands of the south. If you want to transport an army through the steep hills of the central lands in the cold weather of Sachay, you have to march across half the twin isles before you reach Kapra. There are no large rivers you can follow, no established paths, no cities to resupply in. All the land is barren there, so you cannot rely on hunting and foraging to feed your men either.”
He looked up, expecting to see the merchant's flustered expression, but he was disappointed by the sight of another mask.
Let me see how long you can uphold your charade, he thought, before he continued.
“Even if you had a large army at your disposal – which you do not – you would have to feed them – which you cannot. At best, you can only transport a small force to Kapra. Do you believe that is enough to defeat the southern kingdom? Are the Orientals all superhuman? Unless they each have the strength of ten warriors, they will stand no chance. Even if I were to combine my own men with yours – if you were to offer enough benefit for me to do so – we would be no match for Saniya's army alone, which has been expanding at a worrying rate. Worse yet, all the other lords follow that brat without question, blinded by money. So most warriors of the south would face us as well. You plan is a fool's errand, and I will have no part in it.”
With his firm rejection, Ogulno considered the issue over. Although he hadn't heard the merchant's plan yet, to him it seemed frivolous and reckless the more he thought about it. There was no value in participating. However, when he looked at his guest, the merchant still seemed as calm as before. Somehow, the lord felt like he had missed something important, and it drained away his confidence. Just for a bit longer, he would consider hearing the merchant out.
“You say that the southern lords support their king now. However, are they truly satisfied with their lot?” DeVaerter asked. “Through a combination of benefits and threats, they have all been forced to move their homes to Saniya at heavy costs, leaving their own estates behind to rot. I have heard that the king has sent his own men to oversee the construction projects he helped finance in their lands. Meanwhile, the lords are far away and have no control over their estates. Will the lords truly be happy with the status quo, in which they slowly lose their power and independence? Or would they rather return to the old times, when they controlled forces equal to any king and emperor?”
As the merchant spoke, Ogulno's eyes widened in understanding. Finally, he realized that the plan of the Orientals wasn't frivolous. Rather, it was well thought out and had a real chance of success.
“You want a rebellion,” he concluded.
“Who said that we want to fight a direct war with your locals?” DeVaerter shrugged. “We understand that we have no power here. We are too far from home, and we do not have enough soldiers. However, we do not need to control the southern kingdom to get what we want. What would happen if an outside force appeared out of nowhere and threatened the hinterland of the country, while the king was away on his foreign adventure with his new wife? Would that not open the door to more independent thought among the lords? Would that not give them an excuse to accuse their king of neglecting his duties? Would they not jump at the chance to regain their lost power? All they need is one excuse, and they will follow you into battle, not their king. And in return, all we want is free access to the Verduic Sea. None of your land, none of your power. Just trade relations.”
The more Ogulno understood the depth of the plan, the more impressed he was. Wasn't this possible? Weren't many lords secretly unhappy with Saniya's power? Although he was isolated, he wasn't completely without any contacts to the other lords. Because of his very status, many lords had confided in him about their grievances. He thought about his nephew Mayu, and his fading influence in the southern kingdom's politics. By now, the once mighty governor title of House Saqartu was almost worthless. Surely, he would relish the chance to regain his family glory. Maybe this plan was worth doing after all.
“I need more time to think about this,” Ogulno finally relented.
“That is perfectly fine.” DeVaerter put on a new mask, this time a conspiratorial grin. “We have waited for years. We can wait a few days longer.”