A long bath helped, but afterwards, as I made my way down to dinner, every step was a painful one. My muscles were already stiffening. It would be even worse in the morning. Still, I was determined. And that encounter with the ambassador of Southway just made me even more so.
A long, polished wooden table had been laid out with what looked like a banquet to me, despite my instructions. Silver candelabra held our source of light, light which glittered off a wide array of polished trays and bowls. There were grapes; cherries, apples and peaches stacked high; there were at least four kinds of fish, filleted and laid out with herbs and lemon on trays decorated with fishing net designs; bowls of peas, green beans, tomatoes and carrots were full to the brim, at least four different kinds of bread had been prepared, with slices and rolls displayed on yet more silver trays; while goblets of cut glass sparkled, ready to receive wine from a choice of six decanters.
The table was laid for four people but the placings were spaced so far apart that it was like a socially distanced event during the COVID pandemic back home. Much to the consternation of a servant who was standing by the wall and hurriedly came over to help, I started re-arranging the plates and cutlery, bringing all the places up to the top end.
No sooner than I’d taken my own seat, than Lord Arval, my Paladin General came in with a brisk march. Even for dinner, it seemed, he wore his chainmail and carried his sword. With a gesture that was nearly a smile, he took the seat to my right after I pointed to it.
‘I heard about your training today sire. It gave encouragement to the troops.’
‘There’s a long way to go.’ I glanced at my fleshy arms, so different to my previous body.
‘I also heard that you scorned the ambassador of Southway.’
‘Oh did you? What did your sources say, exactly?’
‘That you were offered wine and women for the rest of your life if you’d do the bidding of their king and you refused, telling him that it was him who would be grovelling in chains before you.’
‘Did I though?’ I laughed. ‘The story has grown. Good. They have the spirit right at least. That guy was so smug, I wanted to punch him in the face.’
We were interrupted by the arrival of Chancellor Parrin and the sorceress Carlena. Although they were not arm in arm, there was something about them that suggested to me they might be a couple. They were the right ages – she with silver hair and he with the grey and sliver of his beard – and they moved towards me with an ease in each other’s company.
‘Another innovation I see,’ said the Chancellor with a glance at the place settings and then at the servants. I got the message: careful, go easy on the changes.
I repeated my story of meeting the ambassador of Southway, to the approval of Parrin and Carlena but they were surprisingly taciturn. Only when we had eaten did Carlena lean towards me, so that I caught the full intensity of her stunning purple eyes, and whisper, ‘send the servants away please, so we can talk properly.’
I nodded. And after the next time my glass was refilled, I slapped the table with my heavy palm (it was effective for that at least). ‘Out! Servants out and don’t disturb us until you are called for.’ I spoke with unnecessary volume as they jumped to respond.
‘Spoken like the old Carlos,’ said Parrin with a smile when we had the room to ourselves.
The two of them then began an interrogation that would have never have been allowed by the previous king. What was I researching? What was I building? How would we cope with the loss of our grain-generating lands? What other information was in the menus? On the whole they were cautiously positive about my decisions and plans. At least, they didn’t propose I make any changes to it. I was warned that my popularity, already very low, would drop further if we did start trading iron to the necromancer king, but they could see the necessity of this.
By the end of their questions, I was totally clear about one thing. Carlena, Parrin and (to a lesser extent) Lord Arval saw me as their instrument. I was accountable to them and had to take their instruction. In business terms, this was a board meeting and I was the CEO, not a king with absolute power. This didn’t upset me. I could totally see their point of view: the kingdom was on the ropes and everything they owned, including their lives, was in jeopardy. They couldn’t afford any mistakes from me. Also, while I quite enjoyed the authority of being king and the way all the people were quick to obey me, I didn’t like the barrier that the role created. At least here, with these three, I could be myself.
'I have a question about the menus,' I looked from one to the other. 'How is it there are so few people on them compared to the size of Carrick?'
It was Carlena who answered. 'I believe the numbers allowed on the menu are capped in some way by the overall happiness of the realm.'
That made sense and exporing how to raise happiness was yet another goal for me to add to the 'to do' list.
‘How goes your personal progress?’ asked Parrin.
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‘I don’t know yet.’ I patted the rolls of stomach fat that were resting on the table top. ‘I’ve made a start on shedding these. But I haven’t seen any change to my character sheet yet.’
Carlena frowned. ‘What level Fighter are you?’
‘I’m not even a Fighter yet,’ I confessed. 'In fact I was thinking my character sheet meant I should be a Sorcerer or Cleric.'
All three of them turned pale faces towards me, eyes glistening in the candlelight.
'Oh no,' said Carlena. 'Not a Sorcerer. You won't have any spells. To obtain spells you have to build a scriptorium of the spell level and then research them, getting a random result It would take you forever. And it's not what we need on the battlefield.'
‘I believe King Wace is level twelve,’ muttered the Chancellor pointedly. ‘And Queen Rorgesta of Trolland is eleven at least.’
I caught the Scout's eyes and said, ‘I’ll start levelling up soon. But with my current stats, I’d be a hopeless warrior of any sort. I have to find out can I improve my Strength before starting my personal progression. And I also need to know how to level. Do I fight monsters? Complete quests?’
‘I suppose you are right to wait,’ Lord Arval spoke after a short interval. ‘But every day that you are not progressing is a day more for them to get ahead. You could easily reach level two or even three by performing task quests in the town itself.’
‘And we can bring you to areas nearby where there are monsters you can fight and kill for experience,’ offered Lord Parrin.
That sounded promising and exactly like the RPGs I was used to.
I took a deep breath. ‘I will progress soon then. For now though, my body is a mass of aches and pain. I can barely lift this fork with my left hand, my shoulder is so sore. There’s nothing more I could have done today to advance this body towards where it should be.’
‘True.’ Lord Arval nodded. ‘Don’t push so hard you damage yourself.’
‘We need time. Time to fix the kingdom’s economy and time for me to level up.'
‘Indeed. And in that light, provoking the king of Southway might not have been wise.’ Carlena spoke tentatively, as if exploring the idea.
‘It was right to refute him so publicly and so firmly,’ Arval came in, ‘the message to the soldiers and people was clear. We will endure.’
Chancellor Parrin nodded. ‘I think so too. But still, there is a real danger of the two armies continuing their advance together and overcoming our defences.’
‘Speaking of which, I’d like to see them. We have a fort at the head of the valley that leads here, right? I might be able to upgrade it.’
‘You can’t get there, it is thirty miles away and no horse can carry you.’ It was Arval who made this depressing, if practical, point.
‘I can show you on the map at least,’ offering Parrin, ‘and you should be able to find a menu for it. It’s called Three-Ways Fort.’
‘I’ll check later. And if it’s all right with you, I’ll move any remaining troops from here down to it, including the new archers.’
Everyone greeted my proposal with approval.
I had been thinking about Carlena’s point about unnecessarily provoking King Wace. ‘Could we maybe divide them? By talking with Queen Rorg… whatever … the Trolland queen. By suggesting that we might be willing to be a protectorate under her?’
‘Perhaps,’ the Chancellor nodded. ‘It would be a mission for Figus.’
‘When he gets back,’ I said.
‘When he gets back,’ Parrin repeated.
‘In the meantime, I think you need to go down to the lowlands and monitor the enemy's movements, to give us notice if they are advancing.’
‘Me?’ Parrin looked surprised. ‘We have scouts, of course.’
‘Yes, but they are all level zero, right? Whereas you are level nine.’
‘It’s been a while since I dusted off my scout skills, but you know what, I’ll do it!’ Parrin rubbed his beard around his mouth, where a smile was forming. ‘I’ll set out in the morning.’
‘Just don’t take any risks.’
When our strategizing was at an end, Lord Arval called the servants back in and we resumed a more formal tone, until I was ready for my bed. Well, not quite ready.
‘Can the king ask for a massage?’ I leaned in towards the General.
‘Of course. I’ll send someone.’
‘Good, I’ll go on up to my bed.’
It was an effort, I was almost tempted to ask for help and a push, but my groaning legs carried me up two flights of stairs until I collapsed on the bed. Not long after I did so, a heavy knock came on the door and after I called for the person to come in. It was the masseur I was expecting. Well, not quite. A tall, muscular man in a soldier’s tunic came in.
‘Massage sire?’ he asked gruffly.
‘Please.’
‘Saw you walking today sire. You’ll want the legs looked at.’
‘Left shoulder too, from carrying that sword.’
He nodded. ‘Too right. You know they make the dummy out of lead, deliberate like? So when you pick up your first real blade, it feels light.’
I didn’t reply and soon I felt his hands on the backs of my thighs, through my clothes. I wasn’t going to remove them, even if that limited his access.
Before long, I was getting some serious work done, loosening my cramped and tight muscles and while it was borderline painful, it was effective. What with the wine and the exercise, I’d sleep well. There was one thought still nagging me though, arising from the questions that the sorceress and the chancellor had raised with me. Oh yes. The hunting lodge, level 2 had been due for completion earlier this evening.
I paused the massage long enough to call down the town menu, then got back into position while I studied it.
Greyland
Economy Military People
Currently building:
Monthly trade income: 0
Monthly tax income: 54 gold
Treasury: 2 gold
Daily food consumption: 13 units
Grain yield: 0 due in 17 days
Vegetable yield: 35 food units due in 20 days
Wool yield: 3 bales due in 33 days
Meat yield: 5 units daily
Timber yield: 17 planks daily
Iron yield: 2 ingots daily
Quarry yield: 6 blocks daily
Smithy yield: steel pickaxes on hold. Awaiting iron.
Weaving yield: 4 bolts daily
Research: Shipbuilding One
Resources:
Wheat: 14 food units
Vegetables: 25 food units
Meat: 8 food units
Wool: 7 bales
Timber: 150 planks
Iron: 0 ingots
Stone: 39 blocks
Cloth: 4 bolts
The meat yield had gone up by one. I had hoped for two but I couldn’t argue with a 25% increase. That still left us losing about 6 food units a day, with reserves of 47. I winced, and not from the pain of the knuckles digging into my shoulder. I had to set a new town building project and the attractive options were hunting lodge level 3 or mine level 3. Both would take two days to upgrade.
In trying to figure out which of the two would work best for solving the food crisis, I realised that something was wrong. The Smithy should have made me eighty-four steel pickaxes. If they significantly improved iron output, I would build the next level of hunting lodge. Yet the Smithy was on hold.
The problem was iron. I had made a mistake. I blushed at the thought of talking about this with the others. If I had waited to create the new archers, I would have had plenty of iron for the pickaxes. Scrolling deeper into the menus, I could see that the Smithy had built a stock of 12 pickaxes before I had assigned the remaining iron to training the archers. Then it had come to a halt.
Oh well, I allocated the twelve new pickaxes to the miners and given that at least two iron would come in tomorrow, the Smithy would be able to make 24 steel pickaxes, which would surely improve the daily output of iron? Three days would see me with a mining workforce fully equipped with the new pickaxes. Three days though. When I should have been using those days in building up a surplus ready to trade for food if Figus came back from the necromancer with a decent deal.
This was discouraging, but more positive was the discovery that the hunting lodge level 2 had the capacity for four more workers. That was a must. I assigned the new hunters from the reserves of workers (now only 8 strong) and went for the hunting lodge level 3 as the next build. While iron was vital, food was even more so and there was no guaranteeing that my ambassador would even return, let alone with a trade agreement.