Chapter 12
The Baron was sitting in a lavish carriage right out of a fairytale. The seats were padded, the windows were glass, the only blurriness that could be seen through then was because of the beautifully ornate etching done in the glass itself. Through the glass he could see a beautiful forest. It was late autumn, the leaves had fully changed into beautiful auburn and yellow hues all around him. The sunlight was trickling through the leaves, he could see a deer running in the forest, a squirrel climbing a tree.
It was the most peaceful scene he had ever seen in his life. To his left he could feel something. A peaceful presence, leaning against his arm. He tried to look and see what it was, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the scenery. Suddenly, something splashed against the glass. It was a deep red, far darker than any of the leaves he had seen during his trip.
Strange, He thought, What’s that doing there?
Suddenly he saw another burst of red liquid impact the glass. Then another. Soon, there was a veritable tidal wave of red coming toward his carriage, quickly followed by a literal tidal wave.
It impacted, sending razor sharp shards of glass and brutal wood splinters flying into his face. He fell backwards as the wave of red and debris hit him, knocking him out of the carriage. To his left he could hear a woman screaming, and he soon realized he was screaming as well. Some red washed over his eyes and he tried to wipe it with his sleeve, but his arm felt restrained. He opened his eyes and saw only dirt and leaves.
Lifting his head, he was greeted by a pack of unwashed bandits, holding down a screaming woman. He tried to make out her face, but he couldn’t quite put the details together. He knew nothing about her, only that he loved her with all his heart. Suddenly, the Bandit hefted his ax over his shoulder and grinned, his ruined teeth bared in a horrific grin.
The Baron tried to yell, tried to warn her to move, tried to say anything, but nothing would come out. It was as if he had been muzzled. All he wanted to do was scream her name, he needed to say her name or this would never end! It was on the tip of his tongue, he knew he was close, but he just couldn’t quite conjure her name.
Then, the bandit lifted the ax.
“Oi! Oi! Baron! Baron! Wake up! Aye think yer havin’ a nightmare! Wake up!”
Suddenly, his dream was gone, the bandits replaced by the face of a worried Scotsman, and the forests replaced with the inside of a tent.
The Baron sat up in his bed and looked at Fergus. His cheeks felt wet and his eyes felt sore.
“Baron! Are ya ok? Aye came in when aye hard ya yelling in yer sleep!”
The Baron rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, they felt wet.
“Baron? Ya alright?”
The Baron looked at his hands for a moment. A drop of liquid hit his palm. Suddenly the reality of his situation came back to him, he remembered who he was and where he was.
“Uh, no, I simply...have something...in my eye.”
He wiped his eyes and gave Fergus a pained smile.
“Nothing to worry about, my friend!”
Fergus gently sat down next to him and patted his shoulder.
“Aye ken ya Empiremen ‘ave a thing about cryin’, ya think it make ya less o’ a’ man or somethin’, but bein’ man involves bein’ weak, ya ken?”
The Baron sniffled and looked down at Fergus. His eyes were filled with worry.
“Cryin’ donnae make ya weak er whatever ya Empire freaks believe, it makes ya strong. Ya cannae get stronger if yanae ken yer weakness. Cryin’s a part’o life! It shows ya where yer weak, an’ allows ya tae get strong!”
The Baron wiped his tears with his poofy sleeve.
“Thank you, Fergus. I am truly glad to have you as a comrade. I scouted you for your strength, and in doing so I have gained your wisdom!”
“Wouldnae say it's my wisdom, but, if ya ever need tae talk, talk tae me or Ludwin, we’ll help ya with yer worries!”
The Baron tilted his head to the side.
“Why Ludwin?”
Fergus got up and made to leave the tent.
“'es good at talkin' 'bout this sorta thang. Oh ya! We’ve got tae pack up our stuff an ‘ead ta Holenstadt! Tha men need yer direction Baron!”
|
|
After getting dressed the Baron went out to the camp. It was mostly packed up and put into carts, but there was still work to be done. His men didn’t know exactly where they were going, they just knew that they needed to pack up and get ready to march, so they were dragging their feet. The Baron found Udo and walked over to him, yelling to get his attention.
“Udo! Rally the men around that platform over there.”
He pointed to the stage the Empress built to give a speech before the siege.
“Time to let them know where we're going. I know that sort of thing gets them motivated!”
Udo saluted lazily and took in a deep breath.
“GUUUUUYS! THE BARON HAS OOOORRDEEEERRRRRSSSS!”
|
|
It took the Klarwasser Mercenary Company about a week to reach the capital city of Holenstadt, Holensburg. When they arrived it was the 23rd of September, 1659. Apparently the capital city had risen up in revolt and was put down harshly.
It was pouring rain. Massive fat drops of rain pelted the men mercilessly, their cloaks soaked through and their shoes overflowing with water. The march there was long and mired in mud. The men had to help dozens of civilian carts get unstuck on the way, not to mention having to unstick their own carts and comrades from the nearly liquid muck which made up the roads leading to Holensburg. The baggage train had the worst of it, their jobs made much, much harder to do in pouring rain and thick, sticky mud. The women and adolescents accompanying them could not unstick themselves, and so the entire company had to stop periodically to save them from a drowning in mud.
The mercenaries the Empress hired to stop the revolt in Holensburg had sacked the city, killing a good number of people and destroying much of the infrastructure required to keep the city running. This was evident even from outside the walls, with broken infrastructure and destroyed housing stretching out as far as the eye could see. The citizens of Holensburg were out on the streets, moving around in massive throngs of the dispossessed looking for any respite from the pouring rain, and sticking mud.
When they arrived outside of the gates, the Baron stopped and addressed his men, informing them of more of the specifics of their mission. He had to yell at the top of his lungs to be heard over the rain, and the deafening sound of droplets pelting his hood made it hard for him to even think properly. He took in a deep breath and began to shout.
“First order of business! We need to build lodging for us! The people of Holensburg have lost much of their infrastructure, and many have lost their homes, meaning there is not enough housing to house the populous itself, let alone house an additional four hundred odd men. You'll get started on that now. The faster you get it done, the faster you're dry! You will be doing that while I discuss what needs to be done with the governor. Avoid conflict with the native Holensburgers at all costs! They have suffered much at the hands out our colleagues, I want to demonstrate to them that we are different. Understood?”
The men voiced their agreement, though it was very muted on account of the rain.
“Then let’s get to it!”
|
|
The Baron stumbled into the foyer of a large mansion, leaving a snail trail of water as he gratefully pulled himself out of the rain and into the heated building. Even this place didn’t get out of the battle unscathed. There was broken furniture everywhere, wood splinters littered the floor, and bloodstains covered the carpet and the walls. There were many spots of blackened soot where people seem to have haphazardly shot off fireballs or something similar, and the Baron was still not even safe from the rain on account of every window being broken. There was, however, working gas lighting, which thankfully released a lot of heat as it lit up the room, despite the open windows.
He was greeted by a soldier wearing the standard issue armor of the Grand Imperial Army, a black gambeson with purple trim, jackchains, and a kettle helm. He saluted the Baron and pointed to the stairs.
“The newly appointed governor is up the stairs to the right. You can tell which room he is in by the guards posted outside the door. Imperial knights, can't miss 'em.”
The Baron grunted in acknowledgment and practically threw his waterlogged cloak onto one of the few remaining coathooks.
The Baron walked up the stairs and entered the room guarded by the Imperial Knights. The guard downstairs had told the truth, they were very distinctive. Their plate armor was covered in incredibly detailed gold inlay depicting winged cavalry charging into a pikewall, and they had purple plooms blooming out of their breathtaking sallet. The Baron saluted the knights, who returned the gesture.
The office wasn't in an incredible state, but at least the windows were still intact. There were still signs of past battles in the room, holes in the floor, chunks taken out of the walls. There was a noticable lack of furnative for the office of a governor, and they seemed to be storing documents in wooden boxes instead of cabinets. They had, at least, cleaned the debris and bloodstains, as well as adding a few decorations to make it feel more official.
The governor was sitting at his desk, furiously filling out documents. As far as the Baron could tell while he was sitting down, the man was of average build, and seemed to be middle aged. He had a long bushy beard, and the sides of his head were shaven. He was wearing a red kontusz common to medieval polish nobility, and small round glasses.
Legally, he was only allowed to wear his traditional clothing at state celebrations and weddings, however, that rule was rarely enforced after the Traditional Clothing Riots of 1557. He looked up from his work and acknowledged the Baron with a nod before returning to his writing.
“You are the Baron, yes? I hear the Empress will be giving you power over our province soon.”
His voice was deep and rich. The Baron walked over to the hastily upholstered chair in front of the governor's desk, then felt his gaze wander elsewhere.
“I already have ownership of this province, but yes, I am Johan Bleichroder von Bickenstadt, the Baron von Bickenstadt. I am here to discuss with you what needs to be done to restore order to Holensburg...this is a beautiful painting. The messy, almost expressionist brushstrokes really get across the dispair I am sure many Bszerci felt at the time.”
The man rose from his desk with a grunt and grabbed a file from a box nearby, walking and handing it over before appreciating the painting alongside the Baron. It was a very somber painting, the sky was overcast and dark. There were two men sat at a small, wooden table surrounded by a ring of others, half Holenstadters in their traditional clothing and armor, the other half Empiresmen.
The Holenstadter at the table was an older gentleman with a prominent gut and long, graying, bushy beard. He was wearing a long, red Kontusz with golden accents along the seams and cuffs, as well as a brown furred Kalpak with three eagle feathers attached to a gold brooch with a red ruby in the center. He was seated, his countrymen all wailing and grieving behind him.
Across from him sat an Imperial, wearing the traditional Puff and Slash of the Landsknecht, which was formal wear at the time this event took place. He had a long, black beard, and was wearing a Tellerbarret with various peacock feathers sticking out of it. His overall colorscheme was a mix of dark blues, purples, and black. He was Herman Deitreich Reikspal, the Iron Emperor, father of the current Empress, and behind him his soldiers cheered and drank as they watched signing.
The painting was named 'The End of the Old Ways', created just after Holenstadt was conquered over fifty years ago. It depicted the Holenstadter's, then known as Bszerci, unconditional surrender to the Empire, the incorporation of their lands and people into the Imperial fold, and the renaming of them and their homeland.
“This is a brief summary of what needs to be done immediately. We still need housing, especially since the weather is starting to turn. That must be done before anything else can be built...“
The two men admired the painting, talking almost abesentmindedly as they did.
“I love that painting...and everything it symbolizes. Many Imperials have tried to have the painting removed or destroyed, however, that never worked out well. The families would not allow it."
Wojtek looked like something had suddenly occured to him.
"Just for future reference, I am part of the Aleksandrowicz family, Wojtek Aleksandrowicz.”
Wojtek broke free of the painting's influence and gave the Baron the file before sitting back down in his chair.
“The Empress assigned me to be governor because she thinks I am a moderate, and I believe I would describe myself as such. However, I want you to know, if you are just another Imperial goon trying to destroy our culture and cow our people, you will not last long here. They never do.”
The Baron briefly turned and grinned confidently.
“Is that a threat?”
Wojtek looked at the Baron over his glasses, nearly rolling his eyes.
“No, it is a statement of fact. We Bszerci are a stubborn people. I am willing to cooperate with the Empress to an extent, far more than many of my countrymen would like, but I will preserve our culture. I hope you are far more lenient than the Empress, or else your reign will be far more eventful than you might wish.”
The Baron turned his back on the painting. He spoke, chuckling slightly.
“I think you will find that I am fairly different from the Empress. Have no doubt, I do plan on whipping this province into shape, but I am no stooge of the Imperial family. I wish to preserve your ways, your language, your culture, your everything. I just need you to trust and work with me.”
Wojtek smiled slightly and returned to his paperwork.
“You have much to prove, Baron von Bickenstadt and Holenstadt, both to me and my people. Let us hope you keep to your word, for both your sake and the sake of my people.”
The Baron performed an exaggerated bow and left, finding the war tent that they had put up as soon as he got to the city outskirts. They were using it as a base of operations because it was the safest place to keep all of their information at the moment. He entered the tent and addressed his lieutenants who were waiting for him to get back.
“Alright everyone, we have a very busy time ahead of us. After we finish our housing, we need to work on fixing the infrastructure around Holensburg, the roads, the buildings, the wells, all of the important things for a city of this size. Next, we need a steady source of food both for us and the current inhabitants. Lastly, we need to talk to and appease the ruling families and guilds that run Holensburg. Now, who will be undertaking the construction effort? I will allow you to choose your own assignments, for the most part.”
Helmut raised his hand.
“I would like to work on infrastructure.”
Fergus nodded his head and crossed his arms.
“Aye, aye’ll also do tha’. Aye bet aye’ll be more helpful with buildin’! Carryin’ ‘eavy things is a speciality a’ mine.”
Ludwin sighed briefly before he spoke.
“I suppose I should work on procuring food, shouldn't I?”
The Baron took out some papers from his folder and handed them to Helmut.
“Yes, sounds good. Use your connections to feed and clothe the starving and freezing populous. Take whoever from the baggage train you think would be useful, I would suggest Erik's boy and his mother, they're hard workers. Helmut will be the head of construction, you two will defer to him. Additionally Helmut, I would like for you to consult with the governor, Wojtek Aleksandrowicz before you do anything. Run any plans for new buildings and infrastructure past him first before starting. Think of it as a sign of good will to the denizens of Holenstadt. For the most part I want you to be respectful of their opinions.”
“Understood.”
Helmut nodded his head and left the tent, followed by Fergus and Ludwin.
“I guess I can also work on supply lines. It is what I did last time after all.”
Said Hans as he walked over to the Baron.
“Good, work together with Ludwin, he's a merchant's son so he has a lot of experience doing this. Also, I will be needing Udo to work with me, so you will only have each other and the guards for company.”
Hans nodded and took the papers from the Baron before leaving. Udo took his feet off the table and stood up, stretching his arms in a giant motion.
“So Baron, why’re you takin’ me specifically?”
The Baron tapped Udo’s bicep as he spoke.
“Well, besides Fergus, you are the best at hand to hand combat. And I would prefer to not kill anyone who attacks us, it would most likely just anger the inhabitants.”
“Ah, I see. And my charming good looks oughta soften ‘em up and make ‘em easier to deal with, right?”
The Baron shrugged.
“I mean, I didn’t originally plan that, but it could work. You are quite handsome.”
Udo covered his mouth in mock embarrassment.
“Awww, you think I’m handsome?”
“Of course I think you’re handsome, I've got eyes. Now listen up! I am going to give you a rough breakdown of the power structures we will be dealing with. Do your best to memorize these names and relationships, and keep in mind that your rank will be lower than many of the people we are dealing with. Try to be more formal and less confrontational than usual.”
Udo put his feet back on the table.
“No problem! You can trust me Baron!”
The Baron shook his head sighed.
“Maybe just try to be quiet.”
Udo stuck out his tongue, and the Baron began to read the document.
“There are four ruling families within Holensburg, as well as three powerful guilds that run everything. The families in order of most to least powerful are the Aleksandrowicz family,
the Badeni family, the Komorowski family, and the Gasztold family. The Badeni and Komorowski family are roughly equal in power, the Gasztold family is the youngest and poorest family, they don’t have very much influence around town yet, as they are a newer noble family and do not have Imperial backing like the Komorowski, but they still have influence.”
“Brother, I hope this won’t be a problem, but I don’t think I can pronounce those.”
The Baron rolled his eyes and handed a pencil and paper over to Udo.
“Write them down and practice if you need to. If you at least make a good faith effort they should respect you for it. The previous Empiresmen they have dealt with over the years refused to treat them as equals and respect their culture, I want them to see we are different.”
Udo grumbled as he took up his pencil and began writing.
“Fine, I’ll work on it.”
“Next are the big guilds. There are three of them, the Merchants Guild, controlled by the Aleksandrowicz family, is the most powerful guild, because they almost have a monopoly on commerce coming in and out of Holensburg. Anyone hoping to set up shop in Holensburg has to get their approval first. Next is the Soldiers Guild, controlled by the Badeni family, powerful because they control much of the soldiery. They often act as a private security force, so I have a feeling they will be less than thrilled about my plan to create a police system.”
Udo looked up from his paper.
“A what?”
The Baron looked to the ceiling as he thought of how to explain.
“...Think of it as a city militia, but better trained and focused more on apprehension so that criminals will face the wrath of the court instead of the blunt end of a cudgel. I have requested someone come to assist from the Grossenstadt, they will give you more details when they get here.”
“Alright…”
Udo was writing down most of what the Baron was saying. His handwriting was rushed and sloppy chicken scratch.
“Last of the three great guilds is the Ironworkers Guild. From what I hear, they are a cooperative company, every member owns the company to an extent. Their organization is built off of the concept of collective bargaining, essentially meaning that all of the workers will band together to 'negotiate' with their bosses, or even completely shut down industries until they have been given what they want, which is known as a strike. And, since it has the most members, they have substantial manpower. If they decide that their members will strike, then all of Holensburg will come grinding to a halt.”
The Baron paused and waited for Udo to catch up.
“It has happened once before, nearly bankrupted the Merchant Guild and severely hurt the Soldiers Guild. It may sound as though they are the most powerful from that explanation, but they have been waning in power in recent years, mostly due to the Empress's meddling, something about it reminding her of ‘elven ideology’, whatever that means. But don’t be fooled, they are still a force to be reckoned with, able to mobilize nearly a third of the city’s population if they needed to. Oh, and they deal with almost every industry, not just ironworking. They haven't gotten around to changing the name yet, or so I've heard.”
“Alright, well, I guess I can probably remember all that maybe. So, what family we gonna hit up first?”
“Well I was planning on calling together a council of representatives to talk to. I will deal with the four great families and the Ironworkers Guild separately. Your job would be to stand around looking pretty and intimidating. If a fight breaks out I wish for you to join it with no hesitation, just make sure to not kill anybody. Are we clear as to what we are going to do?”
Udo looked up from his papers with a dumb smile.
“Crystal!”
|
|
The Baron requested governor Wojtek call a meeting of the four great families. He complied, setting the meeting place in the reception hall of the mansion. It was somewhat trashed. Like every other room in the mansion, the walls and floor were covered in reminded that the city was sacked, but at least the table and chairs had been replaced. It had a nice white table cloth and some food in a basket, mostly fruits, cold cuts and bread. There were five people at the table, including the Baron.
“I am sure you all know me, but I will introduce myself regardless. I am the new baron of Holenstadt and current baron of Bickenstadt, Baron Johan von Bickenstadt.”
A short and stout fellow wearing a red kontusz lined in yellow, as well as a fur hat with jewels in the center and a single peacock’s feather sticking out of it stood up and bowed in the Bszercifashion, putting his left arm behind his back and making a small circle with his right. His voice was deep and boisterous.
“I am the representative of the Gasztold family, Bartosz Gasztold. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Baron von Bickenstadt, I hope our relationship is one of cooperation, instead of what it has been until recently.”
Next was an older, tall, broad, muscular woman. She wore a red and yellow delia, beautifully embroidered with bright reds and greens. The handle of a saber could be seen poking out from underneath her coat. Her face was tanned and leathery, and she had a scar on her lip. She had her black hair pulled back into a ponytail, often a hairstyle adopted by warriors to keep the hair out of their face. She bowed slightly as she introduced herself, barely bending over and never allowing her hand to stray too far away from the hilt of her saber. Her voice gruff and husky, coarse from decades of shouting commands during the dry Holenstadt winters.
“I am Krysia Badeni, representative of Badeni family and Soldiers Guild. I hope to end this quickly, you Empiresmen do not impress me, though I do greatly respect your record.”
After her was a lanky man wearing a bright red kontusz lined with dark green, and a reddish leather belt with a gold buckle inlaid with red and green gems. His hair was slicked back and graying. His face was beginning to wrinkle, and he wore thick, circular glasses. He spoke with a somewhat refined voice, medium in timbre and very measured. His accent was smoothed over, though still detactable if you had an ear for that sort of thing.
“I am the representative of the Aleksandrowicz family, Aleczandr Aleksandrowicz. I will also be representing the Merchants Guild as its head.”
Lastly was a man of medium height and build. He was wearing a beautifully tailored, black three piece suit, a style especially popular with younger empiresmen. A gold chain could be seen running from his belt loop to the pocket of his suit jacket, and a massive emerald could be seen embedded in the gold ring on his ring finger. His hair was medium length and black, slicked back using pomade, a fairly common hairstyle in Imperial aristocratic circles. As soon as he started talking the rest of the representatives scowled.
“I am Erwin Komorowski, representative of the Komorowski family and loyal son of the Empire. I am sure that my fellow Holenstadters feel differently, but I, and the Komorowski family, welcome you, Baron von Bickenstadt. You exemplify the qualities of a true Empiresman, we are honored to work with you.”
Krysia’s grip on her saber tightened dangerously.
“You disgust me, Podlizuch.”
Erwin put a hand to his heart in mock offense.
“You call me names simply because I am loyal to my country?”
Krysia’s frown deepened, if such a thing was possible. Hate was overflowing in her eyes.
“I call you names because you are a collaborator. You should be ashamed to call yourself Bszerci.”
Erwin grinned smugly
“I am a Holenstadter, not Bszerci.”
“That’s it! Come here Podlizuch, I will give you new boot to lick!”
Krysia raised her arms and started inching toward Erwin, who squared up as well.
The Baron slammed his fist on the table, causing a long crack to slither it’s way down the beautiful wood.
“You disgrace yourselves! You lose sight of what we are here to accomplish! We can resolve your petty squabbles when your city is not falling apart!”
Erwin looked at the Baron pleadingly.
“But she questioned my honor and defamed the Empire! I can’t let such a thing-”
The Baron cut him off.
“None of your petty complaints will matter if your city crumbles to dust and your people die miserably in the streets. The honor of the Empire comes second to its people, who are currently starving to death and dying of exposure. Now, compose yourselves! This is not about you, this is about Holensburg and her people. Now, sit down and play nice with each other or so help me God I will have you all shot and displayed in the town square as warning to any other clowns who wish to stunt the recovery of their city so their circus can continue to scream from the mountain tops about how virtuous it is.”
The representatives stared at each other for a moment, absorbing what the Baron said, and after what felt like an eternity, they slowly lowered their hands and sat back down in their chairs. The Baron nodded appreciatively.
“Thank you. Now, let us discuss what needs to be done. Firstly, we need food to feed the populous. I am sure I do not need to remind you, but the city's reserves were plundered by the Empress’s mercenaries. If we cannot feed the people, it could end in widespread food riots, which would lead to even more property damage and loss of life. If we can’t take care of the food situation, Holensburg will never recover. Who here has the highest capability to bring food in and distribute it.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Aleczandr spoke up immediately.
“I believe that the Aleksandrowicz family is in the best position to acquire food, and anything else we need. We are the heads of the Merchant Guild, after all.”
“Do you have the resources to protect your caravans at the moment? This province is currently swamped with bandits. The Empress seems to have refused to pay the mercenaries who acted...excessively, and they’ve dissolved and resorted to banditry.”
Aleczandr briefly checked a paper in his folder, doing some quick mental math before writing on it and sliding it over to the Baron.
“I believe we have about…half of the men we would need for protecting our caravans? Many of our men were killed during the attack those kundle focused a lot of attention on our storehouses and headquarters.”
“Krysia, do you think the Soldiers Guild would be willing to provide protection for their caravans?”
Krysia nodded, arms crossed on her chest.
“If they paid us properly, yes I believe so.”
Aleczandr scoffed and pushed up his glasses smugly, eliciting a displeased look from the Baron.
My God, they’re literal children. Well…not like I’m known for NOT being petty.
“I am not sure if we have enough remaining capital to pay your extortionist rates.”
Krysia heaved a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes.
“It is not extortion. Our men practice day and night to perfect their craft! They may not be cheap, but you are getting what you pay for: Some of the finest soldiers in the Empire. The best men require the best pay.”
Alecsandr shrugged.
“That may be true, but these are trying times. Our warehouses and safes were ransacked, we are running low on capital. We may not have enough to pay for our goods in addition to your men.”
The Baron sighed and spoke up.
“Fraulein Badeni, are you sure your men would not be willing to take payment below market standard? At least for a bit? We are currently attempting to save their city, their homeland. Can they not find it in their heart to do this for the greater good? Out of a sense of civic nationalism? Or perhaps just regular nationalism?”
“Some of the men may accept such a thing, but many of them are far more mercenary in their thought. The soldier’s guild has had a history of Empire imposed supply issues.”
Erwin scoffed, but remained silent. The Baron scratched his beard in thought.
“I suppose I could lend some men from my company to the protection of caravans, but I would rather not. Our rates are less than that of the Badeni family and our skill is excellent, but I will not spare many, they are going to be doing much of the construction. It builds character.”
Bartosz looked surprised.
“You’re rates are lower than hers? Your men are the best in the world?”
The Baron shrugged.
“I want to remain affordable. Means I get more contracts. And I’m not exactly hurting for cash, if there’s a deficit in funds for the men, it comes out of my own personal savings. Not important though, Aleczandr, do you perhaps have any ideas?”
Aleczandr scratched his head in thought before looking pleased with himself..
“Krysia, would your men accept an IOU?”
Krysia tilted her head to the side.
“A what?”
“It is an idea pioneered by Dwarven merchants, if I recall correctly. Think of it as a voucher that is worth a certain amount of money. If they bring the IOU to our headquarters it could be exchanged for however much is written on said IOU. We could give them an amount of their payment immediately and they could receive the rest of it at a later date. And, of course, if we can’t pay, they can take us to the Imperial Court.”
Krysia considered the idea, pinching her chin in thought.
“Well, I think the men would be a little more receptive to that. We would just have to announce the rates and explain the IOU to the men and see who accepts the job, and you will most likely have to appeal to the Baron's men for the rest.”
“The Klarwasser Mercenary Company is willing to provide about…60 men in total. 20 with sword and shield, 20 with pike or spear, 10 men with firearms. They would require about…60% their monthly pay for this job, about 60 Reiksgeld per round trip.”
Alecsandr considered for a moment, skimming through the papers in his folder.
“Yes, we can afford that. We will need about 150 additional men for our caravans. Krysia, do you think we will get that many men from the Guild?”
“I believe you will get half of that, many men want to stay here to make sure their families stay safe. I am afraid we will have to look elsewhere for the remainder.”
The Baron shrugged and addressed Bartosz and Erwin.
“Can the other great families offer anything?”
The short and stout man stroked his long drooping mustache. Bartosz Gasztold hadn’t yet spoken, and the Baron was beginning to fear he was going to be useless.
“I believe the Gasztold family could pay some mercenaries to assist, but we are mostly focused on rebuilding our homes, so do not expect too much. I cannot give a solid figure at the moment, our warehouses were hit particularly hard.”
“Any little bit helps, I appreciate the offer. Now, what can the Komorowoski offer us?”
“I believe we can offer enough men to cover the caravans. We have connections to many different groups in the Empire, so it may take longer than the rest of you, but they will arrive. We could possibly petition the Empress for help.”
Groans echoed off the walls of the room. The other nobles seemed to dislike the idea of accepting official Imperial support. After observing the others, seeing that no one was ready to speak, Aleczandr sighed heavily.
“While it pains me to accept help from collaborators, and from the types of people who sacked our beautiful city and killed men, women, and children alike. However, we have no choice. I will work with you, and cooperate with the Imperial government, for the good of Holensburg.”
Erwin smiled and nodded.
“I appreciate your willingness to work with me and the Empress, perhaps this could lead to a cooling of tensions, or perhaps better Reikification. We used to be barbarians in mud huts, but now we live in the second largest city in the Empire by population! You may not accept it, but the Empire brought us prosperity. You may treat me as an outsider, but I am a Holenstadter, born and raised. I want our homeland to prosper just the same as you, I just believe the best path forward is with the Empire.”
The Baron loudly tapped the table to get all eyes on him, as well as to prevent anyone from speaking up, lest an argument break out again.
“Now is not the time to discuss the finer points of the Empire’s influence here. We can discuss this after peace has been brought to Holensburg. I ask that you all get to work immediately, the faster we can feed our people the better. Aleksandrowicz, please seek out four of my lieutenants, two for purchasing food and materials, two for building. Ludwin Albrecht and Hans Volkner will assist you with procuring food and materials, Fergus Ulpaghin and Helmut Freier are the leaders of the construction efforts, consult with them to get a general idea of what materials are needed. Understood?”
“Do we have to go through them for everything?”
“Well, you should go to Fergus for ballpark estimates of what materials are required to rebuild, and to Helmut for more detailed information such as measurements and types of building materials. As for our merchants, I just ask that you work alongside them as equals. Ludwin is the son of Joseph Albrecht of the Albrecht Merchant Company, so there is no need to handhold him, he knows what he's doiing. Though ultimately, you will be given the final say in projects, as this is your city. If you wish to override my men, do so, but try to ask me first. And if I find what you do is stifling the reconstruction effort, you will be shot. Understood? Good.”
The Baron addressed Bartosz.
“You are attempting to lead the construction effort, yes? I ask that you coordinate with my Lieutenant, Helmut. I have put him in charge of any construction involving Klarwasser mercenaries, he has full discretion on what to do with them. If you can convince him that you have a good idea, I assure you he will act on it. Though if you have what he considers to be a bad idea do not expect him to voice his displeasure with softer wording. And, again, if you mistreat my men or stifle progress...”
The Baron patted one of his pistols before turning his attention to everyone and raising his voice, making it clear he was speaking to all of them.
“That goes for the rest of you, as well. If you contribute to the construction efforts, such as sending laborers and materials, I want you to at least run things by Helmut. It is good for me to be informed of what you are doing, and vice versa. I’ll send my men to inform you of what we are planning as well. And, if you do not work well with us yadayadayada- does that sound acceptable to you all?”
There was a murmur of agreement among all the nobles.
“Excellent. Then without further delay, let us get to work. Every second wasted is another citizen starved to death.”
|
|
After the meeting with the families ended, the Baron immediately headed to the headquarters of the Ironworker’s Guild. The building was in disrepair, as was every building in Holensburg currently, but it was in far better shape than the governor’s mansion. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stout man wearing ironworker’s clothes: A leather apron over a long sleeve shirt and heavy pants.
“Are you the Baron von Bickenstadt? We’ve been wanting to meet with you about the construction effort.”
The Baron nodded.
“Yes I am. I assume you are the representative of the Ironworkers Guild?”
“Yes, one of many, please follow me to our meeting room. There are three of us for you to talk to, including me. We’ll talk when we think we need to. Think of us as one unit with a few different voices. Also, you may bring your follower if you please.”
He led them into a back room with a round table. The room was clean, clear of any debris and anything else that would suggest that the city had been recently sacked. At the table were two men, both wearing leather aprons and gloves, just like the one who escorted the Baron here. One of them poured a clear liquid into a glass and set it in the spot meant for the Baron.
“Vodka, it’s good for negotiation! Puts a fire in your belly!”
The Baron grabbed the glass and made a gesture of thanks, breathing in slightly and exhaling sharply before downing it in a single gulp.
“Na Zdrowie! The Baron drinks like a proper man! The last Baron could barely make it through half a glass of Vodka, bless his heart.”
The Baron raised an eyebrow. I was under the assumption that any ruler sent by the Empress would be unpopular.
“Did he treat your men well?”
“Aye, that man was appointed here to keep us in check, but he slowly began to appreciate Bszerci culture as he lived here, though, not the Vodka! Shame he was killed for administrative incompetence! Though it serves them right havin' an 'incompetent' baron leadin' us! Tryna destroy our culture and shit. I hope you ain’t gonna be the same way.”
The Baron lifted the glass to ask for more Vodka, again breathing and exhaling sharply before downing the whole glass in a single gulp.
“I assure you, if there is anyone in the Empire to make your ally, it is me. I am uninterested in destroying your people's culture, in fact, I am invested in doing the opposite. Also it looks like my compariot here would like some Vodka, do you mind?”
They produced another glass and filled it to the top.
“Aye, no problem! If there’s one thing we have in great supply, it’s Vodka!”
He handed the glass to Udo and sat back down. Udo gulped down the clear liquid and coughed heavily, provoking a laugh from the ironworkers men.
“We’ll teach you the technique for downin’ Vodka after we finish up with our talks, but for now, help yourself!”
They passed the bottle to Udo.
“Udo, make sure not to drink too much. We have a lot of work to do.”
Udo pouted as he poured himself another glass.
“Why are you treating me like a child? I know what I’m doing…”
Everyone settled down and sat straight up in their chairs, getting in work mode.
“So, I hear the Ironworkers Guild wanted to speak with me?”
“Aye Baron, we want your full endorsement to work on the reconstruction.”
“Is that why your men haven’t been working on rebuilding everything? You were waiting to talk to me first?”
“Well, as much as we want our city to be fixed, our people need to eat. We needed to work out a contract with either you or the great families before we begin working. We’re sure that some of our guys will help for free, but we need money to keep everything running, and we need money for materials. “
The representatives all shook their heads somberly.
“The sacking of our great city has left many of us completely broke, and they burned and looted a bunch of our wood stores, so we couldn't even begin rebuilding if we wanted. We have to think of us and our members first before we can think of everyone else. The great families hate us because we are not under their control. They want our labor, but they refuse to compensate us fairly, so we do not work for them.”
The Baron nodded.
About what I expected from the way they've been operating. Some sort of union, perhaps?
The representative continued.
“They work with us when they need to, but they try to avoid it. And so, even when our city is falling apart, they are hoping to use it as an opportunity to be rid of us. If they can rebuild the city without our involvement, they could possibly outlast us. That is why we need to work out a work contract with you, to fill our coffers and keep the Ironworkers Guild alive. We represent a whole third of the workforce in Holensburg, if you work with us, you work with the people.”
The Baron almost immediately spoke as the representative stopped, smiling warmly.
“Then you will have your contract.”
The Baron exaggeratedly checked around him, pretending to make sure no one was listening before leaning in conspiratorially.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I would much prefer to work with you folks than those noblemen. I may be an aristocrat born and raised, but I believe that you people are on the right side of history. Working to organize the weak to form a united front against the strong, it's the only way to keep progress marching forward.”
“Yes, that’s the idea behind the Ironworkers Guild. We were founded by an Innyświatz, uh, I forget the word in Reikers…”
“I believe the term is Otherworlder.”
“Oh? Baron? Czy mówisz Bszercini?”
“Dam radę.”
The Baron smiled in satisfaction. The representatives looked genuinely surprised and impressed.
“Wow! Never woulda thought an Empiresman would bother learnin’ Bszerci!”
“I pride myself on my education. Anyways, continue.”
“Of course. We were founded by an Otherworlder by the name of William Wortezcki about 60 years ago. I believe when he founded it, he called it a Union, meaning it represents its members by using collective bargaining. Like you said, its power comes from the people, and therefore we all own it. If you make a deal with us, you make a deal with 400,000 people. You cannot do such a thing lightly.”
The Baron couldn’t hide his surprise.
“400,00?! I knew Holenstadt was our most populous province, but hearing the actual number is still surprising.”
“Holensburg is one of the most populous cities in the world! We’ve got over a million inhabitants. Did you think the size of our city was just for show?”
“Well, I’ve only been to the governor's mansion and here, and my men are camped outside the city so we don’t take up space that could be filled by the civilian population. I suppose I just haven’t seen it from a vantage point to take it all in.”
A little over a million people. No wonder the construction is so expensive and time consuming!
“Well, you should take a tour around our lovely city sometime. We’ll send people to act as a tour guide, if you ask the four families they will neglect to show you the whole city, leaving out the slums and middleclass housing, integral places to visit if you want to understand a city!”
“Perhaps we can do that after we have gotten the city back to working order. If we are going to be working together I wish for you to send some representatives to my lieutenants Fergus Ulpaghin, Ludwin Albrecht, and Helmut Freier.”
He glanced over to Udo, who was shockingly not completely plastered and, even more shockingly, understood what the Baron wanted him to do, as he immediately got up to coordinate with the bureaucrats.
Or, maybe he smelled a fertile woman nearby and decided to skip out on his responsibilities…honestly about as likely.
“They are currently leading the construction efforts. Consult with them about what needs to be done and how many men they need, then we will properly work out our contract. We will be working alongside the four families, but I assure you they will treat you properly, and if they don’t, come straight to me and I will work things out. Does that sound good?”
The three men huddled together and spoke in hushed whispers. After a small amount of time discussing, they popped their heads up.
“We accept your terms. We’ll send a representative to live in your camp, and if you wish you can send someone to be a representative in our headquarters. Now, we will share another toast!”
They produced another bottle. It was short and stout. The neck was very thin but the body was very wide, and there was a repeating diamond pattern forged into the body. The label on it read ‘Eyjarnar Fínustu Scotch.’
“Scotch all the way from Orkney! This stuff’s smooth as ice but kicks like a mule! Of course Vodka hits harder, but I hear this stuff is way more popular with aristocrats. So here, drink up!”
He poured four glasses and passed them to everyone in the room. Everyone raised their glasses in toast.
“To the men of the Ironworkers Guild!”
“To cultural exchanges!”
“To Holenstadt!”
They cheered and downed their drinks. The scotch was exactly as they described, it was smooth as ice but it kicked like a horse.
|
|
|
|
A couple of days after their initial negotiation, things were progressing smoothly. Most of the caravans had been outfitted with what they needed, guards, provisions, money, and had set out to purchase as much food as possible. It would take about a week and a half for the caravans to Grossenburg to get supplies and come back, but many of them would most likely not return for two to three weeks. In the meantime, the Baron gathered up as much food as he could find and set about rationing.
He worked with doctors as well as merchants to figure out how much food they absolutely needed to feed the people, and how much they could afford to distribute until the caravans got back. Fergus and Helmut had nothing left to do, the city had used up almost all of the remaining usable wood and stone for construction long before the Baron arrived.
The Baron called a meeting of all the important people around Holenstadt, the representatives of the four great families, the representatives of the Ironworkers Guild, and his Lieutenants, minus Hans who was riding with a caravan. He had the rationing and distribution of the remaining food mostly under control, so now he could afford to work on some longer term projects.
“Right now, our biggest problem is public order. Crime is rampant, we are catching more and more thieves every day. I am proposing a solution to this, which for the most part would require the help of the Badeni family and the Gaztold family. You two have the most martial power in the city.”
Krysia leaned against her elbows on the table.
“So, what exactly are you proposing?”
A deep voice projected from the doorway, startling everyone present. It had the unmistakable cadence of a Russian speaker.
“He is proposing creating a police force.”
“Who are you? This is an official meeting of the ruling families of Holenstadt, who dares to simply walk into an important governmental meeting?!”
Krysia stood up and gripped her saber. The figure walked out of the shadows and revealed himself, falling into a parade rest as he spoke.
“I am Spymaster Brusilov. I have come to assist the Baron with his police force.”
The Baron walked over to Brusilov and patted his shoulder.
“Brusilov, eh? The Empress decided to send you to help me?”
“No, I heard what you were trying to do and decided to come personally. She was going to choose some incompetent buffoon instead of the man who has already implemented such a system in Grossenburg.”
The Baron nodded appreciatively.
“Well then, I thank you for the help. Since you are most likely far more well versed in the topic of a police force than I, would you please explain to them what it is.”
Krysia drew her saber and fell into a fighting stance. The rest of the representatives did something similar with their various weapons, a flanged mace, another saber, and a letter opener.
Brusilov looked briefly at Aleczandr, who was holding the letter opener and chuckled. Krysia pointed her saber at Brusilov.
“You dare show your face here? After masterminding the murders of my kin?!”
Aleczandr pointed his letter opener at Brusilov, eliciting another chuckle from him.
“And after you have raided our caravans for years!”
Bartosz raised his mace above his head.
“And after you killed my brother!”
Brusilov waited for a moment and looked at Erwin.
“What is your grievance?”
Erwin sheepishly put his saber back in its scabbard and sat down.
“I got caught up in the excitement.”
Krysia scoffs.
“Useless as always. The Empire refuses to send its best, as usual.”
Brusilov snorted slightly at the 'Empire’s best' comment. The Baron stepped in between the representatives and Brusilov.
“Listen, we cannot be fighting now! The fate of Holensburg is more impor-”
Brusilov put a hand on the Baron's shoulder and moved him aside.
“Yes, I have done all of those things you accuse me of. And no, I will not apologize. You will be working with me, so I advise you set aside your feeling and do what you must.”
Bartosz looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel.
“Now, we need to forget about the past. What’s done is done, no changing that, and what is important now is that I am here to help.”
Katya fell back into her fighting stance.
“We need no help from a Podlizuch like you!”
She leapt forward with her blade held high, slashing at Brusilov. Before she could connect, the Baron parried her strike, twisting the saber around in her hand and launching it into the ceiling. She turned to punch at the foe who disarmed her, but as her punch flew she could feel her fist being grabbed, and the sensation of weightlessness.
She was lifted and flipped upside down, slamming into the floor hard enough to crack the boards. She attempted to sit up but felt a sharp pain in her neck, like something impaled her. She looked at the source and found a needle sticking into her neck. She tried to reach over and grab the needle, but her arm wouldn’t move. She looked up and saw Brusilov standing over her arguing with the Baron.
“The drugging wasn’t necessary!”
Brusilov shrugged nonchalantly.
“I needed to restrain her.”
The Baron gesturing angrily to the drugged woman on the floor.
“You didn’t need to drug her! Do you just carry syringes around?!”
“Don’t worry, the dosage was very small, magically enhanced drugs are more powerful with no increase in potential damage to the body. The paralysis effect will wear off in five minutes, more or less.”
“That’s not exactly the problem here. My problem isn't that you might give her too much, it's that you fucking drugged her!”
“You try to calm down a woman as she is actively trying to kill you.”
The Baron stared at Brusilov before shaking his head and returning his saber to its scabbard, soon after turning back to the other representatives, putting on his most empathetic face..
“I understand how you feel, but we need Brusilov to help bring order to Holensburg. I will not deny he is a horrible person, but he is also extremely useful. You have a duty to your people, will you allow petty grievances to get in the way of law and order returning to Holensburg?”
“Petty grievances? He killed my kin…”
Krysia muttered weakly from the floor. The Baron and Brusilov helped Krysia into her chair.
“I have killed nobody…eh...that is not quite true, I did kill his brother personally, but I only ordered men to kill your kin and raid your caravans on the orders of the Empress. If you are angry, write your complaint and drop it in the canal, maybe it will find its way to Grossenburg.”
The Baron pinched the bridge of his nose. He sounded tired.
“Brusilov that is quite possibly the worst thing you could have said in this situation.”
“I know, but it is true. All of your anger should be directed toward the Empress. She is the one who ordered me to weaken your standings, if I didn’t do it, someone else would have. And if it makes you feel any better, I argued against the sacking of this fine city, and I am vocal about her going too far with putting you people down. There are not many Slavs, who you refer to simply as Bszerci, in this world. I do feel a small affinity with you people.”
Brusilov shrugged, producing a flask from his inner coat pocket and taking a swig before continuing.
“And now, I am here to help you. I will not apologize for everything I have done, but I will do my best to strengthen your position within the Empire. Help you build back better, so to say.”
The representatives looked at each other. Aleczandr moved to put down his letter opener, causing Brusilov to chuckle again.
“If you laugh at my letter opener one more fucking time I’ll-”
Aleczandr slicked his hair back and composed himself, taking a deep breath before speaking again.
“Sorry for the language. I am choosing to believe you, for now. Do not make me regret this.”
When Aleczandr put away his weapon, everyone reluctantly followed suit.
“Good. Now let us all sit down and discuss what needs to be discussed.”
Another chair was brought in for Brusilov and he sat down at the spot farthest away from the native Holenstadters.
“Firstly, for our police force we will not be recruiting the best and brightest. Their jobs in such a system will be slightly different. We will be recruiting average people for the police force, as we need people for the grunt work, and they will be managed by an outsider to Holenstadt so as to avoid any favoritism.”
Krysia spit on the floor.
“Why are you not leaving this up to us? The Badeni family and the Soldiers Guild have been in charge of keeping the peace for generations! Are you attempting to steal away our power for your own machinations?”
Brusilov whistled.
“Hmm, you are quite hardy, the drugs should not have worn off fully yet.”
She threw a mug at him, which he deftly plucked out of the air and gently set it down on the table, filling it with vodka as he spoke.
“Well, you could say we are doing it to limit your power, yes, but it is not just that, and it is not for my personal machinations.”
That's not very inspiring, Brusilov, thought the Baron mournfully. Bartosz crossed his arms and frowned at Brusilov.
“And why should we accept a deal that limits our power?”
Brusilov pointed at the Baron with a deadpan expression.
“Because you have no choice, and because it is the only way to get yourselves out of the ocean of shit the Empress has put you in. You may think you can strongarm the Baron, or simply kill him, like you have done to many previous rulers. However, I assure that will not work this time, not on the Baron at least.”
Aleczandr sat back in his chair and smiled smugly.
“That is not very convincing. I heard you were one of the smartest and most rhetorically effective people in the Empire! Either your intelligence has been highly exaggerated, or the state of the Empire is worse than we thought.”
Brusilov looked at him, a smile on his face, his eyes old as ice, eliciting a shudder from Aleczandr.
“You want to hear the ‘rhetorical style’ that got me my reputation for success?”
Brusilov took an agonizingly slow drag of his flask.
“Anna.”
Aleczandr stared at him, confused.
“What are you-”
“Marysia, Kasia, Olga, Ela, Jadwiga, Krystina.”
Aleczandr’s eyes widened as Brusilov kept listing off names.
“Alexandra, Basia, Samanta, Sofia. Need I continue? Or do you get the gist of my style?”
Everyone stared at Aleczandr in confusion. He looked as though he saw a ghost.
“No...no need to continue...I understand. I…”
“Good, now settle down and allow me to speak.”
The Baron eyed Aleczandr dangerously.
“Brusilov, what was that list of female names? And how do they relate to Aleczandr?”
Brusilov waved his hand dismissively.
“Nothing for any of you to concern yourselves with. As I stated earlier, the past is in the past, and those names concern the Aleksandrowicz family more than Aleczandr specifically. He most likely only knows them from the ledgers.”
Brusilov chuckled as he delivered the last line. Aleczandr stared at Brusilov, eyes wide in surprise.
“All you need to know is that I know what it means, and so does he, and to not concern yourselves with it any further.”
Krysia eyed Aleczandr like he was trash.
“Aleczandr, what is that list of names?! Answer me now or I will-”
“Miedzianka village.”
Krysia stared at Brusilov.
“I assume you’ve heard everything you need?”
Krysia sat back in her chair slowly, folding her arms and closing her eyes, a scowl clear on her face. Brusilov smiled and clapped his hands as he began to speak.
“Good. Now, should I start in on the Gasztold and Komorowski families, or may I continue my explanation of what needs to be done for your police force?”
Bartosz nodded slowly, and Erwin just closed his eyes and bowed his head deferentially.
“Perfect, I assume there will be no more complaints from now on?”
The representatives were dead silent, all avoiding eye contact with each other and Brusilov.
“Then I will continue on with my explanation.”
Brusilov smiled smugly and gestured to a servant for refreshments.
|
|
After telling the nobles what Brusilov needed from each of their families, everyone left to carry out his orders. Brusilov sat with the Baron in his tent. The Baron was doing the paperwork needed to start their official police work, creating a state run organization and writing up orders for public recruitment. Brusilov was there to talk, as until the Baron finished with his work he really had nothing better to do.
“Brusilov, be honest with me, what were those names you said to Aleczandr? And that village you mentioned to Krysia.”
Brusilov took a sip of his drink and sighed contentedly. It was a pale yellow and bubbled aggressively.
“You know, Weinstadt has roughly the same climate of France, the Champagne region specifically. The weather and climates in this world don’t quite line up properly with how they should, but sometimes that’s a good thing. The wine coming from there tastes just like a real French vintage! Though of course, It doesn’t exactly match up to the elves' wine, they have a little something special.”
Brusilov had elected to speak in a midwestern accent, saying something when he arrived about how it might be ‘nice for you to hear a familiar voice from time to time.’
“Brusilov.”
“Did you know that champagne is the one of only a few drinks that has a different name in Reikers? Strange right? They call it Siegersbrauen, Victor’s Brew. A fitting name if you ask me.”
“Brusilov, why are you avoiding telling me what the lists are.”
Brusilov rolled his eyes at the Baron and took a sip of his Siegersbrauen.
“I’m not avoiding it, I just want some downtime. Even I need a break from time to time.”
“You may have your break when you tell me what my colleagues have done.”
Brusilov raised an eyebrow.
“Colleagues? No. Not colleagues. They are your subordinates. Some people may appreciate that you don’t act like you’re above everyone, but never forget that ultimately, you are a baron, you are THE Baron. You have a reputation to uphold, you could at least try to act like it.”
The Baron set down his pen and looked the spymaster in the eyes, a heavy scowl plainly visible on his face.
“Brusilov.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. Brusilov set down his glass and assumed a serious posture.
“No family is without dark secrets. Not when you get to that level of wealth and influence, at least. The Aleksandrowicz family has dabbled in human trafficking for decades now. It seems to just be something If that dirty secret got out, it may ruin them. Technically that sort of business is illegal, you are only allowed slaves of elves or foreign nonhumans in some cases, but many nobles want domestic products, so to speak, and they will pay a premium for such products.”
The Baron sighed heavily as he took up his pen again.
“I would appreciate if you would refer to them as people, Brusilov.”
“Whatever. You get my point. Now for the Badeni. That name I shared was the name of a village that the Badeni family wiped off the map. There are far more of those I could talk about, but all she needed was a single name to shut her mouth. The Empress does not approve of such a thing, at least when it comes to humans and denizens of the Empire, she prefers to keep them alive so they pay tax revenue.“
Brusilov touched the tip of his thumb to his neck and dragged it across to the other side.
“Flattening entire villages and slaughtering the inhabitants will get you and your entire family executed. They know this, but the Badeni are a stubborn people, and their soldiers can be quite cruel when they want to. So, when a village defies them, they wipe it out. The Empress knows this happens, but as of yet she has no proof. Kind of hard to find anything definitive when it’s all ash.”
“What do you mean she has no proof? If you know enough to use it as blackmail, doesn’t that mean you have proof of their actions?”
Brusilov smiled smugly.
“I said that she doesn’t have evidence. The Badeni are good enough to stump her men, but not mine. The Empress’s men are good, don’t get me wrong, but they are no match for modern forensic techniques.”
“Wait, but, aren't you the Empress’s Spymaster? Don’t you work for her?”
Brusilov chuckled quietly.
“The Empress and I have had some...disagreements...in recent years. I feel I am losing her trust, and of course she is losing mine. She is relying on me less to carry out important missions, and she has created another Spymaster group. She has done an excellent job of hiding it, even I am not aware of the full extent of it, but we do catch her spies sometimes, so we do know a good amount.”
Well well well. The Empress and Brusilov are having a falling out. That could be quite useful.
“Though of course, I am still more or less loyal to the Empress.”
“Yes of course, as am I.”
Brusilov stared hard at the Baron’s eyes, searching them for any sign of sarcasm.
“Well, what about the other two families? You mentioned something about them.”
“Oh, that was a bluff.”
The Baron stared at Brusilov, mouth agape.
“...Really?”
Brusilov grinned smugly and downed the rest of his Siegersbrauen.
“Of course. We have no evidence of their wrongdoing, but they definitely get up to some. Because of how thick I laid it on the other two, they both assumed I knew everything.”
Brusilov stood up from his chair and poured himself more champagne.
“We are not omnipotent, Baron. The only thing more important than having information is acting like you have information. As Alinsky said, ‘Power is not only what you have, but what the enemy thinks you have."
“Do you have any dirt on me?”
The Baron fiddled with his ring as he waited for an answer. Brusilov poured another glass of Siegersbrauen and handed it to the Baron, smiling mischievously.
“Who knows?”