Horizon of War Series

Chapter 135: Echoes of Power

Echoes of Power

Beatrix

The Lord and Steward rode in the carriage after concluding the meeting. Beatrix had to sit uncomfortably as she was taller than a regular human and also had her tail to consider.

"This is really uncomfortable," she complained again.

"Yes, My Lord. Please bear it just a little longer," replied the Steward, who sat across from her, facing her direction.

"I wish I could ride horses like humans," she muttered, feeling helpless.

The old Steward could only hide his grin. As they approached the bulwark gate, he said, "My Lord, earlier you surprised me."

"One of my statements?" she asked.

"Your action, I mean," he clarified and added, "I'm surprised you didn't threaten or ask them for compensation."

Beatrix sharpened her stare. "Don't get me wrong, old man. I love my brother. I still remember the days he playfully suckled my tits, thinking it was mother's. But now he's dead, and it's no one's fault." She then turned to the glass window, looking at the rocky mountains. "I know my position. I'll not endanger the whole town you tried so hard to protect just because of a brother."

"I'm honored... The whole city is honored."

"Hmph, praises won't get you anywhere with me." She shifted in her seat again.

Following her gaze, the Steward caught the blue and bronze banner of a patrol that rode to the forest area. This led him to ask, "What do you think about Lord Lansius?"

"Hard to guess. He's different..." her words trailed off.

"Well, he's a foreigner. Black hair and all."

After a moment of thought, Beatrix exclaimed, "Ah! I should have asked if he's ever met another half-breed before."

The Steward was piqued. "Why?"

"Because his reaction is not normal."

The Steward nodded. "Indeed, he showed a lot of restraint--"

"Not restraint," Beatrix disagreed. "No disgust, scowl, fear, or combativeness. He simply treated me like... an ordinary human."

The Steward broke into a smile and quipped, "See, a lot of humans aren't bad."

"I admit there are exceptions like him and you, also half of the Umberland people, but I doubt it's the case everywhere or with everyone."

Seizing the opportunity, the Steward asked, "Is this why you accepted Lord Lansius' military support?"

"Did you forget that your council has briefed me on that?" she replied rather snarkily.

"My Lord, I recommended this because using Lowlandians against the Nicopolans is a great opportunity. Secondly, the area we loaned is just empty villages that we can't even protect. Lastly, since it's a loan, when they return it, we can probably even reap what they sow."

Beatrix grumbled. "I bet you're thinking you'll be safe behind the bulwark if the Lowlandians betray us."

The Steward smiled innocently and asked, "Is that wrong?"

"My kin can fight in the dark and climb where humans can't. But you shouldn't treat us as expendable."

"I wouldn't dare," he reassured her. "But then, what is your reasoning for trusting him? His offer for recognition or alliance is vague."

"I trust not the man, but his mate," she revealed.

"The Baroness of Korimor...?"

She nodded. "The man is elusive. But the woman, she's a fighter. And I trust her words. And by proxy, I also trust her mate."

Another bump in the road rocked the carriage, and the Lord grumbled loudly at her discomfort. The Steward chuckled, and she stared at him in protest. To distract her, the old man asked another question, "What about the Nicopolans?"

"What about them?" she responded, disinterested.

"Lord Lansius didn't ask, but I need to know, do you have a blood feud with the Nicopolans?"

"It's over." She snorted. "Nobody who killed the late Lord's family is alive now."

The Steward looked pleased but needed to confirm, "So the feud didn't extend to the rest of the Nicopolans?"

Beatrix furrowed her brow. "You think too lowly of me. We don't kill an entire tribe for what their fighters did."

"You are wise, Beatrix," the old man praised.

"No. I'm just old," Beatrix countered. "I'm already surpassing my prime. At best, I only have fifteen, if not twenty, years left."

The Steward ran his fingers through his hair. "I probably have less."

Beatrix laughed. "You jest. Humans live to over 100."

"That's for a healthy man. Not drunkard like me," he said, his face reddening as he joined her laughter.

After their laughter subsided, she said, "Don't die first. I'd hate to have to find another capable Steward."

The old man grinned at the praise and reciprocated, "You too, My Lord. I doubt I can find another wise leader from the bloodline."

Beatrix let out a sigh. "Too bad I have a wound. Still, you should try to accompany me for some nights. Who knows, I might conceive if it's with a human." She then added her reasoning, "The child would be groomed as a human lord anyway, not as a mountain tribesman."

The Steward cleared his throat. "I'm deeply uncomfortable with the fact that Kae's scripture didn't teach your kin to marry."

"I already told you we have marriage, but it's mostly temporary. Since we’re trading fighters between tribes to maintain peace and the fact that good fighters often have good sons, it's only logical to want them to father many offspring."

He crossed his arms, saying, "Now that you've explained it that way, it sort of makes sense. Is this the Je Ne—?"

"Yes, the Je Ne Tik scripture. Old Kae taught our ancestors that strong traits carry over to the offspring. It's also the same reason for my kin's downfall. He called it inbreeding."

The steward nodded. "It’s ironic that half-breeds need men to keep the tribes alive."

"Well, at this rate, my kin will have more humans than we'll ever need for mating in the foreseeable future."

"And you’ll have more suitors. When the nobles of Lowlandia hear of you, they’ll send marriage proposals," the Steward said with a chuckle.

Beatrix rubbed her temples, commenting, "I guess the legend is true. Humans will fuck with just about anything."

"Especially for power and wealth," the Steward added, seamlessly, as their carriage entered the massive gate of the city's bulwark. There, at least a hundred half-breeds awaited with great anticipation.

***

Lansius

Beneath the command tent, while the sun was still high, Lansius, after drafting and careful consideration, finalized his policy for Korimor. The policy focused on two main areas: food production and defense. He decreed that the city should allow people to farm freely and that every piece of fertile land should be utilized.

He also encouraged his officers to promote the planting of winter crops as a precaution. Yet, he made clear that these directives should not be compulsory. Instead, the city should offer tax leniency as an incentive, a similar strategy he had previously applied in South Hill.

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Lansius also pushed his officers to seek alternative food sources, recognizing fishing as an untapped potential. He was convinced that Korimor might discover resources beyond traditional agriculture and animal husbandry.

In terms of defense, Lansius wanted the city to invest in training and better armaments, favoring quality over quantity due to uncertainties about food surpluses to sustain a larger army.

Despite this emphasis on quality, he prohibited Korimor from expanding their crossbow production. He directed Sir Michael and Sir Hugo to secure crossbows from Korelia through a city-to-city trade agreement.

Lansius also ruled out the development of a large cavalry force in Korimor, deeming it costly and not a priority, especially since Korelia had a better chance of breeding horses.

As for personnel, Lansius instructed them to employ talent from other fiefs to guarantee loyalty.

Talents from Korelia should work in Korimor. Meanwhile, talents from Korimor should work in Korelia, and South Hill should employ talents from Korelia or distant allies like White Lake. As for the talents, recruit anyone with skills and ability, without regard for their background.

Having done with Korimor, Lansius quietly passed the document to Sterling for a legibility check. He planned to review it later with his council and, upon their approval, have a trusted scribe prepare an official copy for dispatch.

While Sterling was examining the letter, Lansius turned his attention to a letter from South Hill. He learned that Sigmund had reported no immediate issues, yet suspicions were rife. The nobles were holding secret meetings, seemingly in collusion with wealthy landlords. For this reason, Sigmund sought permission to respond with adequate force before the situation spiraled out of control.

In his letter, Lansius wrote: The situation in South Hill has escalated beyond mere threats and warnings. If you are certain and have conducted investigations, capture those responsible and send them to Korelia. Should others attempt to incite trouble, respond with the full might of your army.

As always, extend leniency to their wives and children. Protect the innocent and avoid property damage. Lastly, maintain popular support as best as you can.

Interestingly, Sigmund also reported on Corinthia. This city, located along the Middle Sea coast, produced only a small amount of salt, as the Middle Sea wasn't as salty as the waters along the shores of the Eastern Kingdoms.

Previously, Sigmund had operated under the assumption of a large scheme involving the House that controlled the salt mining industry, yet this proved unfounded. The road to Corinthia was poorly maintained, primarily because there was little need for trade between the two cities, given that the salt from Corinthia was as expensive as mined rock salt.

The wandering minstrel's reports from Corinthia described the city as mostly a fishing village with a modest boat industry. Even the Lord Baron lived modestly, his residence no more than a keep. However, the city benefits from a deep ravine serving as a natural barrier from South Hill.

Upon reading this, Lansius pondered investing there, considering paying for roads and bridges in exchange for land to build a warehouse and a manor. He was particularly interested in shipbuilding, believing the construction of larger flat-top riverine boats to be within reach. This venture could open trade routes to neighboring provinces along the Middle Sea.

Yet, with the ongoing conflict in Umberland against the Nicopolans, these plans remained distant aspirations.

Having nothing more to add, Lansius placed his finished draft for South Hill to his left to dry, waiting for Sterling to review the letter. He then turned his attention to letters from Korelia.

They were several pages long but written in a pleasant manner. Recognizing Cecile's handwriting, Lansius found himself missing her counsel. "I feel a bit guilty for missing Cecile and Calub’s wedding."

Sterling, turning to Lansius, responded warmly, "But you are so busy, My Lord."

"I know, but is there anything I can do for them?"

"How about a gift? Something their nascent House would appreciate," suggested Sterling.

"Right... I should have thought of this while we were in Three Hills City. I doubt we'll find anything worthwhile in Umberland," Lansius remarked with a hint of regret.

"Should I join the group entering Umberland City?"

"No need. With Carla injured, I’m short-staffed here," Lansius answered candidly.

Sterling smiled at the indirect praise and returned to his work.

Lansius then turned his attention to Sir Justin’s report on the city wall and the bathhouse report.

So, a bathhouse actually drives the economy.

He recalled a poorly written story about Attila the Hun, who, in this version, grew up as a hostage in Rome. Even after returning to his tribe, he never got over the Roman baths, much to his tribe's derision. Despite not having the correct infrastructure, he stubbornly ordered the construction of one, believing that bathing was a civilized activity.

It was an ahistorical story, yet it seemed fitting for the situation in Korelia. Lansius knew that despite some myths about bathing, medieval people loved to bathe. And a large pool of clean water with marble tiles, without the threat of river snakes, frogs, or insects, was definitely a luxury.

Lansius chalked this up as a happy accident but made a mental note that he would sternly instruct the guild running them not to turn the place into a brothel, mainly due to concerns about sanitation and the fear of plague from the high humidity. He didn't want to return to Korelia only to find the city plagued by venereal disease.

Next, Lansius reviewed a separate letter about mud housing. As planned before Lansius left Korelia, there had been several proposals, but apparently, Sir Justin and Calub were most comfortable with mud housing. The housing for the captured labor was half buried in the ground to cut costs and also to provide better insulation.

For its walls and roof, the mud house used a mixture of gravel and clay, enhanced with straw, animal hair, and a bit of ash for better durability and water resistance. Ash from firewood made the mud less prone to cracking and shrinkage. Wood beams were used sparingly, as good wood was hard to find in Korelia.

The end result was a humble hovel-like longhouse that could accommodate tens of men, featuring a place for a fire that doubled as a cooking area, complete with basic ventilation. While it wasn't ideal, surviving winter in the steppe environment was always a tall order.

The report also stated that the nomads were unable to meet the demand for more yurts. As Lansius had anticipated, the nomads had limited production capabilities and were unlikely to meet the scale he needed. Yet, the number of yurts they had provided was already helpful, especially for future military campaigns if needed.

Lansius had nothing to comment on, so he moved on to the next report. This separate letter was from Calub. The alchemist reported on the eastern agriculture project. The windbreak trees needed time to grow, but they had transplanted several older ones from the forest or people's backyards to provide shelter for the smaller ones.

Calub ensured the trees were growing, as they are a vital part of this project to protect against soil erosion from the harsh steppe winds. He also thanked the botanist Lansius had sent from South Hill. The botanist suggested a variety of fruit trees that could serve as an additional row to protect future crops from the wind. More importantly, the botanist knew where to find and how to source these plants.

There was another separate letter specifying the types of plants, their maturity, their traits or the special properties of their fruits, and then their price.

It seems plant trade is something I overlooked.

Calub treated the botanist as his right-hand man, a status Lansius felt was well-earned. He had never expected a fruit grower from South Hill to be so well-connected in this niche trade.

As for the land itself, Calub reported he had used horse manure, which was aplenty, as compost for the soil. To protect it from wind erosion, they experimented by using the heavy iron plough the guild had acquired from Midlandia to turn the soil. They also allowed the goats to graze, trampling across the land to compact the soil and also to let their manure further enrich it.

Additionally, Calub had stockpiled a large amount of fertilizer made from ash, crushed eggshells, and bones, to be used once the windbreaks and walls were ready. He also mentioned that one of the newly constructed waterwheels was dedicated to elevating water for irrigating the eastern farm when needed.

Currently, he was preparing the land to absorb as much snow as possible, creating a form of water trap so the land would be benefited once the snow thawed.

Lansius was satisfied with the reports and couldn't think of anything to add, at least for this moment. He put it aside, trusting that his council could offer more insight. "Sterling, may I trouble you with something?"

"Of course, My Lord. What's on your mind?" he asked with his hand still holding a parchment.

"Before I forget, please inform the camp that we are guests on this land. So ensure they do not speak ill of our host or the half-breeds. Even inside the forest. Tell them to imagine as if the forest had ears."

"Certainly, My Lord. But, may I ask a question?"

Lansius gestured for him to continue.

"Is this precaution really necessary?"

"Why would you think it's not?" Lansius furrowed his brow.

"Well, some have speculated that there are probably only tens of half-breeds in Umberland. Otherwise, it's unlikely they would settle for peace. So, many think they're not much of a threat."

"That's just baseless speculation," Lansius sighed before adding, "Tribes don't survive 1500 years with just a handful of people. It's simply not possible. So, for them to have survived and thrived means their numbers are similar to those of our towns or villages."

Sterling was taken aback. "My Lord, are you suggesting they number in the thousands?"

"They must be at least 2,000 strong. And mind you, unlike humans, who only have a limited number of fighters in a community, all of these half-breeds could probably fight as well as the one we encountered that night."

The squire shuddered at the thought, a mixture of guilt and fear welling up within him.

Lansius had heard from Carla that Sterling blamed himself for missing the fight, yet he also admitted that he probably wouldn't have made a difference. The experience was a humbling one for the squire, akin to his encounter with the mage knight in the forest of Korelia that had nearly crippled him for life.

"Sterling," Lansius called warmly. "This is why war is never the correct answer."

The Lord's words struck a chord.

"What we do to our enemy, they can do to us. And losing a war gives the other side plenty of reason and motivation to retaliate."

"But My Lord, you've managed to end the last three wars on favorable terms, even with Lord Robert and Lord Jorge."

"Tell that to the mounds of people who died for our survival," Lansius retorted.

Sterling felt the shock of the blunt truth.

"It's easy to be swept away by the euphoria of victory and glory. But we must always remember the rows of mounds where the bravest lie," Lansius advised gently.

Sterling nodded, his face softening into understanding.

Lansius continued, "This is why I need you to spread the word. Let it be known clearly to everyone that we are not an occupying force. I have no intention of overstaying our welcome. It may be years, but when peace returns, this land will return to its rightful owners."

...

Having finished his work, Sterling exited the tent to relay the Lord's message to the Captains, who would then brief their lieutenants. Meanwhile, Audrey entered to find Lansius still perusing his letters. Without a glance at his work, she blurted out, "I fucked up!"

Lansius' brow arched as he met her gaze. "Come again?"

Averting her gaze to hide her reddened eyes, she muttered, "The magic. I don't have it."

"That can't be. I saw how you fought," he countered, rising to approach her.

Ingrid burst in at that moment, her face flushed, "My Lady, please--"

"No," Audrey cut her off. "If I have no talents, there's no need for false comfort."

Lansius turned to Ingrid. "What exactly happened?"

"My Lord, there's still hope," Ingrid implored.

"I understand, but first, tell me what the problem is," he urged with reassurance.

Ingrid looked downcast and hesitated. "I helped My Lady to tap into her source, but... we found nothing."

***