Valkyrie's Shadow

Birthright: Act 5, Chapter 26

Birthright: Act 5, Chapter 26

Chapter 26

“No! No, no, no! That's absolutely absurd and you know it!”

An uproarious voice filled the crisp morning air and Clara Corelyn looked away from the rows of tents pitched along the road leading down the gentle slopes of the Katze River Valley.

Nearer to the river crossing was an odd gathering of individuals standing around a large stone table. They were sheltered under a pavilion not unlike the one she had used in Fassett County some time ago. There were four Elder Liches, five Humans and a Dwarf arguing over a set of plans laid out before them.

To an outsider, it might be considered strange that an Elder Lich would argue – and even stranger that one might argue with an Elder Lich – but it was something that happened several times a day as the architects and engineers for the new harbour drafted out its design and construction. An outsider might also have expected such an argument to be punctuated by curses, Lightning Bolts and Fireballs, but no such vibrant displays happened and the only curses were the verbal sort: Clara had heard several that were quite vibrant in their own way ever since she had initiated work on the wide array of developments throughout her demesne.

She approached the group with her escorts following in her wake. The clamour quieted as they turned to bow when she came to the edge of the pavilion.

“Lady Corelyn,” one of the foremen present greeted her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she replied with a warm smile. “Everyone appears to be quite animated today.”

“Just the usual, my lady,” the foreman replied. “The new guy is still wrapping his head around what is and isn’t possible around here.”

The ‘new guy’ was the Dwarf: a stonemason that had arrived recently from their kingdom to the north in the Azerlisia Mountains. He visited the harbour town’s construction site the previous evening and, flabbergasted by what he heard was being proposed, had decided to stick around and see just what in the world was going on.

The timing of the arrival of travellers and merchants from the Dwarven Kingdom had been shrewdly calculated to coincide with the announcement of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s new relationship with the Empire – a plan proposed by Liane Wagner. Simply put, rather than allowing trade to simply trickle in slowly on its own, Liane pushed to have an explosion of activity right at the outset in order to give the city the push that it needed to reassert itself as a major hub of commerce. The bold noblewoman had also preemptively plied her connections in the Empire to ensure that a sizable amount of traffic was ready to cross the border with their wares.

As the daughter of a successful magnate, Liane was well aware of the value of traffic and momentum in commerce, knowing that it would take on a life of its own once its infectious energy reached a critical point – as long as there was something to sustain it. By the time traders fully reestablished their routes with E-Rantel and the nations beyond, the midsummer harvests would be due and the flows of trade would happily carry away their uncommonly cheap commodities to the rest of the region.

When Clara, Liane and Florine reviewed it between themselves, it seemed a matter of common sense between the three noblewomen born to houses with merchant backgrounds. Liane would have the city entrenched as an irresistible port of call in a single, powerful stroke, and the Royal Court needed little convincing to place their seal of approval on her plan.

Though somewhat harrowing, their time in the west had solidified their sense of what the Sorcerous Kingdom required of them – as well as what would and would not be considered acceptable behaviour – and they were now all working in their own way for the benefit of their territories and the realm with a degree of confidence could not have existed before.

For Clara’s part, she had already been well on her way with Ludmila’s prodding some weeks ago. However, since most of the labour she required was tied up by the construction of the initial phases of the Demihuman District in E-Rantel, it was not until recently that the Royal Court loosened their grip on them. The nine who formed the core of her efforts in the construction of the harbour town were the Elder Liches, Human engineers and architects who were listening to the Dwarf ramble on.

“I’d like to see what you think is ‘capable’ of making these insane alterations to the river,” the Dwarf grumbled out his challenge. “Oh, I’ve seen those big, fancy golems you have out helping to lay the foundations of that new district in the city, but this is a giant godsdamned river you’re talking about reshaping like some sort of drainage ditch. You’ll need something a lot bigger than that.”

“He is about this tall, actually,” Clara held her hand level with her waist. “Lord Mare has been working on the Demihuman District and the Adventurer Training Area as well but, with the upcoming events and the first phase of the Demihuman District being completed soon, I was able to reserve him for an afternoon.”

The Dwarf stared at her incredulously. Clara could not tell whether he thought her speaking in jest or entirely unhinged. The foreman glanced at his reaction and quickly spoke into the silence.

“Anyways, I won’t fault him for his reactions, my lady,” he said. “He’s just come in and he knows his craft, so we’re glad to have him. Once we’re all on the same page, the harbour and bridge will easily exceed the requirements you’ve specified.”

One of the Elder Liches cleared its throat. Or at least it made the sound of one clearing its throat, as it did not have one. The foreman made a face.

“Was there something else?” Clara prompted.

“Er…yes, but you probably won’t like it,” the Foreman said.

“That will not change the fact that I should know what is going on,” Clara said.

“We’ve received some new…building standards,” he said. “Both the bridge and the harbour areas have been marked as essential structures for logistics and security by the central administration.”

“I have not received any such notification,” Clara said.

“It was just penned out by one of the Elder Liches,” he replied, “‘bout ten minutes ago. They need to be redesigned: fortified against attacks from land and air and fashioned to defend against assaults by tier five magic casters.”

Clara blinked. What did that even mean?

“Is it possible?” She asked.

“I have no idea,” the foreman answered. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, at least. The Elder Liches don’t seem to have anything to contribute either, so we’re all stumped.”

“I will look into it,” Clara said. “Does that mean we will need to postpone?”

“No, my lady,” he replied, “we can go on ahead with the broader work; the town too. It’s the structures in the harbour and bridge area going up after that that will be pending whatever we can figure out. There’ll be plenty to work on once the groundwork is done, so we can just reallocate our resources until then.”

Clara reviewed the development schedule in her mind: they could indeed just focus on building the town for the time being while she investigated the new standards. Lord Mare would arrive in a few days, after projections indicated the first wave of traffic from the Empire would reach its peak. The reshaping of the river to facilitate the new harbour district would serve as a demonstration of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s capabilities beyond the destructive potential that had become associated with them. A few days would be used to spread word for any interested in witnessing the applications of its magical might in civil engineering.

She had piggybacked on Liane’s efforts, finding this opportune time to show off the groundwork for the harbour. Most of the nobility was in constant competition now, looking for ways to both increase the duchy’s prestige and turn the events to the advantage of their own fiefs. Clara was no different in her thinking, but the vast majority of the work in her recently expanded demesne involved refurbishing the hundreds of hamlets and villages scattered throughout the fertile riverlands and reworking its poor infrastructure.

Even with the new sources of labour from the Sorcerous Kingdom, this work would take almost two years and would mostly take place out of sight of the highways, so she was relying on the ongoing construction of the harbour town to lend the sense that her own fief was burgeoning and that prosperity lay just around the corner. Barely seventeen, she could not begin to imagine what the reality would look like beyond the facts and figures in her projections yet, at the same time, the seeds of that bright future were already beginning to sprout up before her.

All she needed to do now was nurture these seedlings into the beautiful garden of her dreams.

“My Lady,” one of her footmen said to the side, “Your transportation will be arriving shortly.”

“Alright,” she looked to her workers in the pavilion, “I will be–”

The group appeared to once again be engrossed in the spectacle of the ornery Dwarf, so she simply smiled and turned back up the road.

The rows of tents to the north accommodated a small village’s worth of craftsmen and other skilled labourers: all brought in to begin laying down the foundations for the first sets of permanent buildings after Lord Mare had finished his work. A huge area had been cleared for outdoor storage and several temporary warehouses had been constructed, as well as a market area with all the services necessary to maintain the population. The tents would be dismantled as permanent residential buildings were completed, which would serve for the next few years as homes for their families while work continued on the town and its surroundings.

As the sounds of the carriage drew closer, she watched it make a wide circle around the market area before returning north to pull up in front of her. One of her footmen opened the door, while another assisted her ascent into the vehicle. She was met with the sight of Liane and Florine, who greeted her with relaxed postures.

“Heyo.”

“Good morning, Clara.”

“Good morning, Liane, Florine.”

Baroness Wagner was perhaps a bit too relaxed; she waved lazily from where she had slouched halfway down her seat, skirts riding up her legs. The footman who had assisted Clara into the carriage gawked open-mouthed at the sight before closing the door on his own head. Blushing furiously, he scrambled to remove himself and shut the door. The carriage driver leaned over to ensure that his new passenger had settled herself before coaxing the horses forward. Vineyards stretching to the horizon passed beyond the opened crystal panes of the window, which allowed a refreshing breeze into the cabin as they rode northwards towards E-Rantel.

Several minutes passed before Clara spoke.

“It could have been worse,” she said.

“Yep,” Liane agreed.

“I’m not sure what to make of this final decision…” Florine said hesitantly.

The decision that the youngest member of their entourage referred to was a notification delivered to the nobility of the duchy, concluding the matter of House Fassett. It was not a day and a half since their audience with the Royal Court, which rendered the decision with its usual shocking speed. Though their small group had the sense that they were successful in their task, the remainder of the House of Lords was still dreading the outcome.

Fassett County and its constituent titles had been dissolved, save for those within the barony which had been spared from the final verdict. As Humans had failed to manage the lands properly, the former territory was given over to the Monsters, Heteromorphs and Demihumans of the Sorcerous Kingdom who could make the gently-swelling hills and dense forests of Fassett County their home. In time, it would return to its primeval state – travellers passing through on the highway would never recognize it as land once inhabited by Humans.

In addition, a wide buffer zone along the border with Re-Estize had been established, and undesirable elements caught trying to sneak in across this buffer from Re-Estize would be killed or eaten – probably both – by the new inhabitants in the area. Count Völkchenheim’s remaining territory had been cut in half as a result but, in return, the independent baronies in the west had been consolidated under his title. Clara wasn’t sure if the sudden shift in power was a good thing or not – hopefully, the overly optimistic young Count would be able to administer his new territories and vassals well.

“Count Völkchenheim is nothing like the Fassetts,” Clara shared her thoughts, “and, by all accounts, he is a benevolent and fair ruler. The west should be stable now, I think?”

“Thank the gods for that,” Liane sighed. “We didn’t even spend a week away dealing with that mess and I couldn’t believe how much work piled up. I’m going to sleep for days after this…no, wait, that will just make more work pile up.”

“I haven’t had all that much to do at home, actually,” Florine said. “My demesne is always nice and slow and peaceful…maybe I should continue helping out with things outside my borders.”

“My paperwork lies beyond your borders,” Liane said. “Help me out a bit.”

“I was actually thinking of staying on with the efforts to organize and establish the migrants that moved out to the abandoned crown territories northeast of us,” she said. “Many were sent to occupy all those settlements ruined from the raiding along the Imperial border last year. I really need to find a way to distinguish myself – it feels like everyone is leaving me behind.”

“Aw, we won’t leave you behind,” Liane patted her friend on the back.

“You might not intend to, but you definitely are!” Florine said, “Clara was granted a huge county and I’m certain Liane is not far behind with everything she’s doing.”

Clara understood the unspoken subtext behind their words: a realization that had crept up on them all as recent events had played out to their conclusion…or, rather than a conclusion, it was a beginning – a new constant presented before those that would act as administrators of the realm. Gone were the days when the lands would suffer abuses of power and displays of incompetence due to the lack of means to enforce the will of a faraway sovereign.

The power of the Sorcerous Kingdom was unmatched, and the will of His Majesty was absolute. Whether it be a village or a barony; a town or a county, considerations that normal governments might make out of necessity were of no concern in their new nation: undesirables were purged or removed. In their place awaited the armies of Undead administrators and various other servants that would facilitate a smooth bureaucracy.

Over them would be placed those talented and capable enough to orchestrate the operations of their respective territories, handling key decisions and managing overall development and direction. Clara was already proving that this was possible in her own county: she had fourteen baronies under her management, and all she needed was a trio of Elder Liches for each barony to organize the raw administrative data for her to analyze and draw up new policies and directives with.

She understood that she wasn’t exactly someone that one would compare regular nobles to, but she felt that even her astonishingly large territory was nowhere near the limit of her capabilities to manage under the new systems brought by the Sorcerous Kingdom. That was besides the point, however, and the message was clear: unlike their former nation of Re-Estize, there was no need for tens of thousands of nobles occupying the various levels of administration. The Sorcerous Kingdom only needed those both austere and capable enough to meet their standards, and only the exceptional few would truly thrive.

Of the nation’s remaining nobility, those old enough to understand this were spurred to even greater heights of activity. Desperately trying to prove themselves worthy of their station, yet daring to hope that their efforts would prove them qualified for new lands and titles where they could further prove their quality and grow their legacies. Carrot and stick, indeed.

“Ludmila is still Baroness,” Clara said. “She doesn’t seem to mind.”

Well, she actually did mind some of the recent developments, though in a way Clara found rather amusing. Frontier Nobles already possessed a reputation as stern, militant aristocrats, and her role in the fate of House Fassett had the rest of the nobility outside of their little circle jumping at shadows even when she was mentioned in passing. It was to the degree where Clara thought that, if Ludmila did ever pop up to look into something, the noble in question would just fall dead on the spot due to their own worries spiraling out of control.

“You can’t be serious,” Florine said, “you might be used to her as a childhood friend, but to us she moves like lightning! She’s so far ahead that I can’t even guess where she actually is – everything will just catch up one day and we’ll all just stand around with our mouths open.”

“That’s true,” Liane nodded. “Her fief might look all cute and lonely out on the border right now, but it is a border territory. Ludmila will come to realize this sooner or later and, you know, expand the border. That’s a part of her job, after all. She’ll end up with more land than the three of us combined.”

The Frontier Nobles of Re-Estize had been on the defensive for so long that the thought had completely slipped Clara’s mind. When territories managed by the militant nobility along the wilderness had the resources to spare, they would invariably attempt to expand the holdings of the nation. With the economic boon provided by Undead labour and the forces of the Sorcerous Kingdom made available to be leased at reasonable rates, this was a clear inevitability. There was very little reason for the central administration to bar her from doing so, and Ludmila would eventually outrank them all.

Though not necessarily a bad thing in itself, Clara could not help but worry about how it might change her dearest friend.