Horizon of War [Kingdom Building, No Harem, No LIT]

Chapter 109

Sapere Aude

 

Nicopolan Encampment, South Hill

As dawn broke over the camp, Lansius, still bleary-eyed from a night spent poring over scrolls, was roused by activities outside his tent. He had just taken his first sip of water when Audrey entered.

"Oh, you're awake," Audrey said with a smile, already clad in her stylish black brigandine.

"Did I hear someone mention reinforcements?" Lansius inquired.

"Indeed. We've just received twenty cavalrymen, freshly trained, and fifty men from Korelia," Audrey informed him as he began to settle down for breakfast. "They're escorting two hundred South Hill men, along with several cartloads of bolts, crossbows, and barrels of salted meat."

"More than I ordered and faster than expected," Lansius praised.

"Indeed, the Marshal has proven to be reliable. However, this doesn't help our current issue," said Audrey, sitting down beside Lansius and taking a bite of freshly baked bread.

"The situation has changed, but those two hundred men will be useful."

Audrey gazed at him. "Why do you want them anyway?"

"At first, I planned to use them to turn the villagers to our side. Possibly for making ambushes or traps. But as it turns out, our little merchant and bandit circus was quite successful."

"Ah," she exclaimed, understanding. "So, what do you want them to do now?"

"I want them to be my little heralds."

"Heralds?"

Lansius nodded. "I have to create a new policy to solve this issue. The problem is, a policy means nothing if people either don't know about it or fail to understand it."

"I see, so you're using them as your speakers."

"Something like that. They're locals, and I hope they can bring the peasants into our fold."

The two continued with their breakfast. As they neared the end of their meal, Audrey spoke up. "There’s one more thing, or two," she informed.

Lansius gazed at her, waiting.

"The reason the reinforcements arrived so fast is that Sir Justin arranged for them to use nomad guides."

Lansius pondered for a bit. "I still doubt that nomad guides and our nascent market post route could be this fast."

"They don’t. They're fast because they used a shortcut."

"A shortcut to South Hill?" Lansius blurted out.

"It turns out there is one. They don't need to go through the Three Hills area to reach here."

"We need to look out for this new route; it would be beneficial."

Audrey chuckled. "Unfortunately, they sort of warned everyone not to use it. The route is treacherous with little water and hard to navigate, with only the stars as guidance. Also, it ends in a large forest with only a goat trail."

Lansius chuckled, thinking about the hardship they must have endured to get here. "Must have been hard. They're lucky to have gotten here at all."

"Well, they were almost lost, but fortunately, one of our lieutenants who led a hunting group found them by chance."

"Ah, a reward is in order then."

"The name is Farkas. He's a young lieutenant under Sigmund."

Lansius nodded, making a mental note of the man. With his top retinue holding his fiefs, he would soon need new staff.

...

 

Sir Harold and Sigmund arrived at the encampment upon Lansius' summons. Together with them, Lansius led a meeting with the two hundred South Hill men. He wanted to cross-check his findings, but in the process, he uncovered a whole different issue he hadn't anticipated before.

"My Lord, the problem with the harvest isn't the peasants. We are willing to work. But the previous Lord gave a lot of the land to his relatives," one of the farmers recounted their story.

Another man added, "They told us to treat it like the Baron's land. We had to work on it first, even before our own."

"How much land are we talking about?" Lansius inquired.

"It's spread unevenly, but combined with the Baron's land, they account for almost half of all the fields."

Lansius was astounded. He glanced at Sir Harold and commented, "I never imagined that this region was so poorly managed."

Sir Harold gave no verbal response but sighed, his jaw hardening.

Emboldened by the reaction, the peasant continued, "My Lord, the previous Lord's relatives expect us to work their land as if they were little barons. And as if that weren't enough, they also send us on campaigns."

Murmurs of agreement echoed from the others.

"We can confiscate the land," Sir Harold suggested firmly.

"Pardon me, Lord and Sir," another man interjected. "Confiscating their land wouldn't help. Even before harvest, they’ve already sold the produce for cash."

"Please explain," Lansius instructed.

"The former lord's relatives are always cash-strapped and often sell their harvest in advance. So, the actual owners of the yield are always the merchants."

"Forward contracting," Lansius muttered. He understood the practice, which, although not inherently bad, could be highly deceptive and predatory, especially against the poor and financially illiterate.

Sigmund, standing beside Sir Harold, asked, "Does this mean we can't confiscate the land?"

"We can confiscate the land," Sir Harold explained, "but this year's harvest is already in the merchants' hands."

Sigmund exhaled sharply, muttering curses under his breath. The skald was clearly in league with the peasant.

Meanwhile, Lansius looked unsure.

Sir Harold leaned toward him. "My Lord, we can handle the merchants. A little coercion goes a long way."

"No," Lansius said, shaking his head. "We need something more potent."

Sigmund stood at the ready. "My Lord, we await your command."

"While I was not previously aware of this issue, my plan will encompass it as well." Lansius' voice took on a determined tone. "Let's organize a military parade. Gather all the city representatives. It's time to introduce a new policy."

 

***

 

As the guests arrived at his encampment, Lansius intentionally kept himself exclusive, letting only his retainers greet the representatives. As they waited, the guests naturally inquired about their host. For this reason, Lansius had posted Sigmund there to subtly spread hints about his motives, preparing them for the new policy.

Before the atmosphere could grow stale, a military parade performed by a thousand men and a two hundred cavalry soon captured the guests' attention. The archery display from the crossbowmen and the thunderous hooves of the cavalry sent a raw message about the host's military strength. It was a show of force, subtly coercing them not to be on the wrong side.

Lansius wanted to cut through the unnecessary politics and get straight to business. He had little time, and the harvest was fast approaching.

In a display of military prowess, Lord Lansius and his impressive entourage rode against the parade as the columns split in half and saluted their Lord and commanders. The Lord then veered towards the command tent where the guests were waiting. As he dismounted, a subtle signal from him was all it took for thousands of his men to abruptly halt the parade.

The representatives gulped, fully aware of the Black Lord's absolute control over his military. No herald was announcing his arrival, as if such formalities were unnecessary.

Truthfully, his presence alone could be felt even with eyes closed. As the Lord, clad in his strikingly deep blue brigandine, entered the tent, there was an eerie silence while his retinue and guardsmen briefly tensed, standing ramrod straight.

More than just fear, there was respect in their eyes. The guests observed this with mixed feelings. Initially, they had viewed the meeting as an opportunity to advance their agendas. However, upon witnessing the Lord in person, their ambitions gave way to relief, grateful simply to be spared his wrath.

"My Lord," they addressed him respectfully.

"Gentlemen, please be seated," Lord Lansius instructed.

The city and merchant representatives, who were also wealthy landowners, took their seats in front of a long mahogany table. At the opposite end, the Lord sat, flanked by his knights and squires. Select members of his retinue stood at attention to his left, right, and behind him.

"Today I am enacting a new policy," the Lord announced.

The representatives, dressed in fine silken robes, velvet, and fur coats, appeared guarded yet nodded their heads in acknowledgment.

"This new policy isn't designed to harm anyone. There will be some loss of profit, but it won't affect your capital," he reassured them. Then he signaled for the scribe to begin writing.

"From this day forward, I designate South Hill as a Military Agricultural Colony."

The guests looked at him, unsure of what the name change implied.

Lansius continued, "Therefore, I am abolishing the South Hill Barony and all its holdings."

Understanding dawned on everyone. Their eyes bulged, and their throats felt parched. They wanted to ask questions but dared not, choosing instead to wait for a more appropriate moment.

"As such, all lands under the Baron's holdings will now be managed by the new military council," the Lord explained. "Now, what does this mean?" he asked, as if echoing the guests' unspoken concerns.

He explained, "Aside from the legal changes, not much will radically change. The peasants will continue working their land and the communal land. The harvest from their land will remain theirs, while the harvest from the communal land, previously for the Baron, is now held by the military."

The guests remained silent, absorbing the information.

"The biggest change is that all land gifted by the previous Lord is now null and void." Lansius then looked around the room, meeting the eyes of his audience before continuing with a stern warning, "Anyone challenging this rule will trigger an official investigation. We will scrutinize whether they are liable for violating Imperial law by illegally forcing the peasantry to farm on their land."

A guest in finely decorated red clothes firmly raised his hand.

Lansius motioned for him to speak.

"My Lord, pardon my intrusion, but what will happen to those farmlands? Many of them are already under contract to provide us with their harvest yield."

"Those affected farmlands will be taken over by the military. The peasantry will no longer work on them. They'll be harvested by the army, and the yield will be used as military supplies. As such, all contracts related to those farmlands are considered void."

Many guests went pale. The man in red seemed about to speak, but Lansius motioned for him to wait. "Void doesn't mean worthless. To show my appreciation for your support of this policy, those who can provide legally binding written contracts will be reimbursed at their inception value, either in cash, commodities, or through tax exemptions."

Relief washed over many, with a few wiping sweat from their brows.

"What about verbal contracts?" a guest in green velvet clothing asked.

"Verbal agreements and accords will be addressed through the judiciary," the Lord replied without hesitation.

The guests seemed pleased with this arrangement.

Then Lansius added, coldly, "Any attempt to cheat will result in prosecution, with the perpetrator's assets confiscated and their family reduced to peasantry."

Hearing this, the guests straightened their backs, visibly uncomfortable and fearful.

Lansius leaned back in his chair, and Sir Harold stepped forward, asking, "Any other questions?"

"My Lord, you mentioned that the new military council will manage the farmland and holdings. Does this mean that you really intend to use your men-at-arms for hard labor?"

"Indeed, the situation demands it," Lansius confirmed. "Gentlemen, I'm trying to avert famine, not gain benefits. The records show that South Hill is heading towards a famine. I'm sure you're all aware that each time the city is involved in a campaign, there's always a steep decline in harvest yield. And this past summer, South Hill faced its biggest loss ever."

The guests nodded nervously. The losses in South Hill during the failed Korelia campaign were nothing short of disastrous. Even in the city, they had lost many friends and relatives.

"But, My Lord, what about next year? I doubt you will station these many men here indefinitely as farmers."

Lansius chuckled. "Despite what the rumors say about me, I'm not a seer," he jested, prompting chuckles from his entourage. Returning to the issue at hand, he said to his guests, "Let's not overthink this. Let me evaluate my plan and when it's appropriate, I'll unveil it. But right now, let's focus on securing a good harvest in this region."

...

 

After his meeting with the representatives, Lansius addressed the two hundred freed men and the thousands of Nicopolans.

"Men," he began warmly, noticing smiles on his men's faces. The easy victory and the great feast still had an effect on them.

"We ventured to South Hill to settle my issue with the previous Lord. That objective has been fulfilled. However, there's another objective: securing a good harvest for everyone. But as it turns out, we've made a mistake."

The smiles on his men's faces changed as they realized the gravity of his words.

"We expected South Hill to be ready for harvest. And yes, thanks to the hardworking people, the region is well-cultivated. However, due to their past defeat, they lack two thousand able-bodied workers to tend to these fields. I don't want to say this, but this region is unknowingly skirting close to famine."

Murmurs broke out among his men at the mention of famine.

"Gentlemen, don't be afraid," Lansius said, gazing upon the thousands of Nicopolans. "Fortunately, we are aware of this in advance. Though there's little time, we can make enough changes to avoid the issue."

His men listened attentively to his explanation.

"Servius has informed me that we have able farmers among you. Thus, we will form groups consisting of farmers and soldiers to work the fields. Some will work in the communal fields. Others will provide help to villages or families in need."

Seeing his men's confused reactions, Lansius added, "Even if you know nothing but how to hold your spear, this region can use your help. We need able bodies to fix granaries, hunt pests, repair roads, sharpen farming tools, maintain carts, and escort grain transports safely."

His explanation prompted a wave of nodding and light murmurs.

"We can do that," one man said, followed by a chorus of agreement from his colleagues.

"The bottom line is, we can't be idle and expect food to be available. We need to assist the people of South Hill. Otherwise, famine and winter will end us all."

The grim warning left everyone uneasy. Silence fell as the Lord exited the stage.

Sir Harold then took the stage and commented, "Well, unfortunately, we can't beat famine in a fight. If it were a person, I assure you the Lord of Korelia and I would find a way to beat it senseless."

Some burst into laughter, releasing the tension that had been building in their nerves.

"I thought Famine was scared of the Lord of Korelia," someone shouted.

"No," Sigmund chimed in, standing beside Sir Harold, "Famine is afraid of the Lady of Korimor."

"Ooh, the eyes!" someone exclaimed, and laughter erupted again.

Despite the threat of famine, morale was high. In the eyes of the Nicopolans, their new master had yet to make a mistake.

Sir Harold continued, "The Lord has decreed exemptions for those who can smoke fish, also for individuals who can hunt big game. For those, please report to me afterward. If you think you can contribute in other ways, let us know."

 

***

 

After midday, Lansius supervised the formation of the work groups, proactively gathering various inputs from his retinues. He took all their suggestions into consideration. As expected, food and supplies quickly became an issue.

"There's no other way," Servius advised during their private meeting inside the command tent.

"I share his opinion," Sir Harold voiced. "I will share the castle's provisions and also reach out to the merchants for additional supplies."

Lansius sighed, realizing they had exhausted all their options. "We just enjoyed a feast with roast duck. I don't have the heart to tell them that we must return to rationing."

Audrey stepped forward, offering, "Let me handle that announcement."

Just as Lansius was about to respond.

"Um, My Lord, My Lady, this might sound foolish, but Agatha might have some ideas," Sigmund interjected, bringing the girl forward.

 

***