Chapter 5

Aside from a gust of wind that played through the gardens outside the window, not a sound could be heard. Countess Jezne looked up from the parchment she had placed on the dais, slowly running her gaze over the assembled nobles. As no one spoke, she looked back down and continued.

“The next item is th–”

“W-w-wait!” A woman’s voice stammered out unsteadily from a corner of the chamber, “That’s it? The Empire, reduced to a point on our agenda?”

“There were several details accompanying the announcement,” Countess Jezne replied offhandedly, “but our esteemed assembly appeared entirely uninterested.”

“Then how?” A noble rose from his seat, “Why? Didn’t the Empire endorse His Majesty’s claim to this duchy? Were they not allies?”

“When did the Sorcerer King mobilize his armies?” Asked another, “If there was some sort of conflict, we should have seen signs of it from here. The closest city of the Empire may be three days away, but their towns and villages come all the way to the borders of the Sorcerous Kingdom – as do ours to the Empire. There was no smoke or any sign of devastation; no flocks to follow after carrion.”

“If the Sorcerer King turned on his ally, what sort of trust can be placed in him? Is the Sor–H-His Majesty’s word so easily broken? Are we next?”

“If His Majesty had any such designs, do you think the Royal Court would have informed us?” Countess Jezne scoffed at the last noblewoman’s fearful speculation. “After all of their efforts to create all these new administrative systems and security measures? Perhaps you should more carefully consider your words before you blurt them out like some ignorant, drunken vagrant.”

The assembly settled down again with the Countess’ reprimand.

“It was the Empire that initiated the process,” she told them. “The Bloody Emperor himself, according to the Guardian Overseer.”

Ludmila had heard the previous evening that the Sorcerer King had visited the Empire at some point to make his offer to the prospective Adventurers there, but there had been nothing regarding what had been announced to the House of Lords.

“What is the nature of this new relationship, then?” Clara asked calmly from beside her, “You say client state, but are they a vassal? A tributary?”

“The terms that define the new relationship have been drafted internally by the Royal Court, pending His Majesty’s final approval.” Countess Jezne paused for a moment before speaking again, “As is, the Baharuth Empire will not become a vassal in the same sense that the nobles of E-Rantel are His Majesty’s vassals. If I were to use a word to describe the arrangement, it would be that they have entered under the hegemony of the Sorcerous Kingdom as a Protectorate. Minor details aside, they will enjoy the same autonomy as they currently do as an independent state, save for their recognition of the executive authority of their suzerain in matters where it is deemed necessary.”

A concerned murmur filled the hall again. It was an extraordinarily open-ended term, one that put the Empire entirely at the mercy of the Sorcerous Kingdom. Ludmila knew well enough that, if the relationship remained a benign one, it offered many benefits. If it turned sour, however, the Royal Court of the Sorcerous Kingdom could instruct the Empire to slaughter its own population and raze their own nation to the ground, and the Empire would be legally bound to do so.

At least the nobles of E-Rantel, under the adopted laws of Re-Estize, were granted protection from acts of tyranny and were involved in the legislative process of the realm. Well, on paper, anyways. If the Sorcerer King decided to turn against his own nobility, there was nothing they could really do. In a way, the arrangement might be considered somewhat similar: survival was contingent on the grace of their liege. As a noble, however, it was hard to imagine such a blatant breach of trust and it was that very trust that allowed them to administer their fiefs without worry.

She wondered why there was such a marked difference in treatment. Was there something unsatisfactory about the Sorcerous Kingdom’s current laws for the Empire to be handed such double-edged terms?

“This information has not been made publicly available yet,” Countess Jezne closed the topic after the continued questions from the members of the assembly had finally been spent. “The Royal Court has seen fit to share this with the House of Lords so that we may make preparations in advance of this development. The Royal Capital is to be the crown jewel of the Sorcerous Kingdom, and as constituents of the capital duchy we must do our utmost in support of the policies that have been laid out by the Royal Court to achieve this before formal relations with the Empire are opened.”

The remaining points on Countess Jezne’s agenda mostly outlined these new policies and the assembly dispersed a little before noon, with many of the nobles dividing into groups to digest the presented information over lunch. Ludmila and Clara left together as they had entered, but were joined shortly along the way to Lady Corelyn’s guest manor by two other noblewomen: Baroness Florine Kadia Dale Gagnier and Baroness Liane Loretta Dale Wagner.

Baroness Wagner’s fief was immediately east of E-Rantel’s city limits, running along the south of the highway between E-Rantel and the Empire. Vintner Barony formerly separated her territory from Corelyn Barony, so Countess Corelyn had essentially become her new neighbor. In addition to raising horses and other draft animals, House Wagner owned a half dozen merchant companies whose primary routes lay between Re-Estize and the Empire. The brief conflict and the following annexation of E-Rantel had disrupted their operations but, with the Empire becoming a client state of the Sorcerous Kingdom, the path would become free of hindrances to trade in that direction.

Baroness Gagnier’s fief was also adjacent to E-Rantel, and lay on Wagner’s northern border across the highway to the Empire. Her territory was focused on producing food for E-Rantel, and one of the primary sources of dairy and poultry products delivered to the city. Both Wagner and Gagnier made their homes in the city itself, administering their fiefs from family manors in the central district.

With Countess Corelyn’s rise to prominence, it was a matter of political and economic necessity for the neighboring Wagner to draw close to her. Mostly because she was Wagner’s friend, but also because she didn’t want to be left out alone against the new camp that had formed overnight in the eastern portion of the duchy, Gagnier had joined the group as well. Though it might have seemed a cold, calculating thing, it was a reality borne from generations of noble politics and they had come together rather naturally due to this. When E-Rantel was still a part of Re-Estize, the women of the duchy had nominally amicable relationships working behind the scenes to influence the direction of the demesne, so there was little in the way of past hostilities that would deter them from banding together in any case.

The small party of young noblewomen chatted amiably while strolling through sunlit blossoms of the Royal Villa’s gardens, followed by their lady’s maids. Gazing upon this picturesque scene, one would have never suspected that they were all subject to the rule of an Undead sovereign.

They arrived at Countess Corelyn’s guest manor, where she was hosting lunch, and were led to a dining room similar in appearance to the one that Ludmila had in her own city residence. Rather than the beeswax candles and their silver stands, however, intricately fashioned magical lamps shone over the long mahogany dining table. The heavy drapes of the dining room had been drawn to block the glare of the midday sun, and the polished silverware laid across the table glowed in the warm light.

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Florine Gagnier and Liane Wagner were seated on their host’s left, while Ludmila was seated on Clara’s right. Ludmila knew why she was probably seated there, being close friends with Clara since childhood, but the idea that she held only a tiny fraction of the wealth and influence of the other three noblewomen made her feel undeserving of the arrangement. Her eyes went to Wagner and Gagnier, hoping that she wouldn’t detect any traces of disdain or affront.

The two city nobles had a distinctly different aura than Clara and herself, who mostly administered from within their rural territories. Like Clara, they had the shades of blonde hair that were common to much of Re-Estize’s nobility, but they did not have the same strict and formal appearance. Instead, they wore light, long sleeved blouses with simple flowing skirts that hovered just above their calves. Rather than boots for rough, rural locales, they wore polished leather shoes meant for city use. The clothing emulated the urban fashions of the city popular with the citizenry, but the exquisite tailoring and fine fabrics of their garments distinguished them with an elegant look. They settled into their seats and quietly waited for the meal to begin.

Behind closed doors, nobles would switch to discussing more serious and sensitive topics, but they started on their entrée in silence. Unused to leading conversations and being naturally shy, Ludmila thought she would have to kick her friend under the table to get things going. Fortunately, by the time they had reached their second course – a consommé garnished with fresh garden herbs from her nearby fief – Clara realized she was being a poor host and visibly worked up the courage to speak.

“So, about the Empire…”

Her voice carried a great degree of hesitation, but it was clearly the topic of the day. Throughout the remainder of the assembly, even as Countess Jezne went through the remainder of the subjects delivered from the Royal Court, the fate of the Empire had clearly dominated the thoughts of all in attendance.

“Out of nowhere, wasn’t it?” Baroness Gagnier’s amber eyes sparkled animatedly as she picked up on Clara’s cue in her dulcet tones, “Both Wagner and I received absolutely no reports on any activity along the borders. I wonder how His Majesty managed such a feat…”

“Well, I for one, am relieved,” Baroness Wagner’s icy blue eyes expressed disinterest in the how of things and her slightly lower voice was frank. “My merchants have been dealing with all sorts of nonsense in the Empire for over a month. From the few couriers that came in to report last week, their business has been poor – hampered by the very idea that they were associated with the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“Hampered how? Was anyone hurt?” Clara’s spoon paused as her voice turned to concern, “Those caravans haven’t even been back to the duchy since autumn, have they?”

“There haven’t been any injuries, nor any sort of overt harassment, really.” Baroness Wagner replied, “But it was such an openly huge event that the rumors flew on wings faster than a Hippogryph. Within a few days of Katze, the news was all over Arwintar – and all over the Empire by the end of the week. Fear has a way of making people lose their minds; it didn’t matter that they had been in the Empire the entire time.”

Ludmila saw the three other faces at the table grimace at the words. It was not too long ago that E-Rantel had cowered in the shadow of a similar fear, so they all knew its effects firsthand. The entire duchy was now desperately working to make up for lost time, and the new policies to improve the capital region pressed them all the more.

“It wasn’t as bad as it was here, was it?” Gagnier asked.

“Of course not,” Wagner sniffed. “It was just a general avoidance of my merchants and a variety of silly rumors surrounding them. People would think they were necromancers in disguise, selling cursed goods, or being Undead themselves. For anyone to actually bring harm to our caravans…well, they would have to have been living under a rock this entire time.”

“They might not attack our merchants,” Gagnier’s voice pressed lightly, “but it still doesn’t solve the problem. If our goods come with a stigma, exports will suffer. Perhaps the Royal Court can do something about it? Those absurdly vague terms that the Emperor agreed to pretty much means that the Empire can be ordered to do anything at all…I wonder what His Majesty did to break him to such a degree that he would concede such authority?”

The women exchanged looks with one another. That was the million Platinum question.

Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix – the Bloody Emperor – was a rising star, even in the eyes of those not belonging to the Empire. Possessed of great intellect, charisma and the imperial bloodline of Baharuth, he had ambition to match: seeing a meteoric rise to power through his shrewd and decisive actions to consolidate power and reform the nation’s administration. No one could question that he would inevitably become a preeminent force in the politics of the region, nor could anyone imagine that he would submit to anyone, never mind agree to such disadvantageous terms.

“Perhaps he feared what would happen otherwise?” Ludmila offered, “It could have been a tactic to intimidate him into compliance by presenting an unthinkable alternative.”

Across from her, both Wagner and Gagnier stopped to stare at her, utensils resting limply in their soup.

“Scary,” said Wagner.

“Scary!” Gagnier was aghast.

“What?” Ludmila had no idea why they had reacted that way – they were like two peas in a pod.

“Frontier Nobles are scary,” Clara agreed.

“I-Is this how she deals with Demihumans?” Gagnier’s small voice was tinged with worry, “Threaten them with unfathomably horrible things to keep them away from the border?”

I suppose that this is at least partially true. Well, a few usually need to die before we get any results, but…

The others seemed to have read Ludmila’s thoughts perfectly.

“Baroness Zahradnik,” Gagnier’s voice seemed a bit shaky. “I understand that you followers of the Six Great Gods don’t really get along with Demihumans, but the Empire is full of Humans, you know! These terms are something only a Devil would force upon them…”

“I could understand if it was negotiating over the price of goods,” Wagner agreed, “but this is the fate of an entire nation for the indeterminate future we’re talking about here.”

She didn’t think it was that bad of a strategy, but the two newcomers seemed to have developed a rather harsh image of her. Ludmila looked over to Clara for support. The Countess was focusing on the slices of roast duck in the main course; when their eyes met, Clara’s innocently shifted away.

“Then would you petition the Royal Court to amend these terms?” Ludmila asked.

“That’s...there’s no reason for that, is there?” Gagnier’s tone became somewhat indifferent, “We’re nobles of the nation that holds the advantage with these terms, after all. It was just some idle speculation over what had happened in the Empire. Unless the Empire’s affairs infringe upon our own, there’s no reason to voice any complaint.”

“The irrational thoughts about our exports should blow away soon, I think.” Wagner said as her friend turned her attention to the meal, “We’ve all seen the projections: there is no way anyone in the region can compete with our production costs. Even after a significant markup, it still handily outstrips any alternative. Practicality will triumph over such unfounded superstition, yes?”

“Speaking of the projections,” Clara spoke, having finished her duck, “what will you do about your demesne, Liane?”

They all looked at Baroness Wagner, whose lips had drawn into a thin line at the question.

Out of the four nobles, Liane’s demesne had the greatest exposure to risk from the changing markets. Ludmila still had nearly her entire barony to grow into, while Clara…well, the entire duchy would have to fall into ruin before Clara could – probably not even then. Gagnier’s industries would see direct benefits relative to the cheap cost of fodder. Wagner, whose demesne provided draft animals for the local markets, would have to deal with the gradual adoption of Undead throughout the duchy. Eventually, no one in the Sorcerous Kingdom would use draft animals over powerful, tireless Undead workers who could do far more work for a fraction of the cost.

“It’s not that bad, I think,” Wagner replied after taking a sip of wine. “It is true that the demand for draft animals will likely diminish to nothing in local markets in due time, but the demand for them will increase for drawing goods to foreign markets. If the need for horses and oxen triples or quadruples due to the increase in exports and trade overall, there shouldn’t be that great of a shortfall. There should be an accompanying demand for wainwrights, so I can start encouraging apprenticeships in that direction to expand associated industries...and of course the trade networks of our companies should see substantial growth. Our animals are among the best in the region so there should be no issues there either: demand for them abroad was always greater than in the duchy, anyways.”

Though what she said made sense, her voice was still tenuous. Nobles that had already heavily invested in developing their lands to best suit the former economic balance of E-Rantel faced a great amount of uncertainty when it came to reorganizing their industries and populations. Even when the choices seemed sound in theory, the spectre of doubt always shadowed them in lieu of actual results. Potentially devastating costs accompanied any poor decisions – to both the nobles and their subjects – yet there was no choice but to forge ahead, for staying as they were would surely mean ruin.

A sombre atmosphere settled over the table. Each member at the table had a sense of what Lady Wagner was going through: they all had no expectation of inheriting the titles which they now held and certainly not at this age – Clara and Ludmila were seventeen, while Wagner was fifteen and Gagnier a year younger. The legacy of their houses and responsibility for tens of thousands of people had suddenly been thrust upon them, when just months before they had been preparing to become suitable wives for their future husbands. Their families were gone and they had little in the way of confidantes or friends they could rely on. There was no time to grieve or wallow in self-pity over having their world turned upside-down: they needed to stand and move forward as the heads of their respective houses – no one else would do it for them.

Clara reached out to lightly place her hand onto Wagner’s wrist, who had ceased eating entirely with a troubled expression on her face.

“Don’t worry, Liane,” she said in a reassuring voice. “We’ll be here for you if anything goes wrong.”

“Thank you,” Wagner sniffed and wiped her eyes with her free hand, brightening somewhat. “I don’t think the worst could come to pass, but it is still a relief to know that I have everyone’s support.”

Between the group of nobles having lunch together, they could most likely hold through any but the most dire of crises. Their little camp had come about somewhat haphazardly on its own, but it appeared to be surprisingly sturdy nonetheless.

Somewhere in the house, the chime of a clock could be heard, and Aemilia stirred from the wall, entering into the edge of her vision.

“My Lady,” she said softly to Ludmila. “Apologies for interrupting your meal, but your appointment with the Adventurer Guild awaits.”