98. Treaty

Tensions were still high within Winterclaw as the proceedings surrounding the cultists came to a close. 

Mark knew it wasn’t viable for them to remain within the city but wasn’t willing to have them go off on their own. He intended to keep a watchful eye on them for the foreseeable future.

Venjimin’s former temple lay uninhabited, partially ruined, and ripe for occupation. The problem was that there were few surviving priests from the temple, and Mark’s people were busy rebuilding. Not only that, but he wasn’t willing to surrender Venjimin or his school. Education was going to be important if he was going to raise Dawnheim above its rivals. Nonetheless, he had to make a decision.

Mark organized a caravan to head for Frostwind, stopping by the temple on its way back. He ordered them to gather a dozen of the Imperial mercenaries from Frostwind and have them escort the cultists to the temple. He also had some of Venjimin’s men go with them.

The temple would remain a place of worship for the Wind God; Mark had no intention of changing that. But he would allow cultists to live there alongside the wind priests for now, for no other reason than to keep the cultists away from the people and defuse tensions. The expectations were clear: They would be expected to build their own settlement and temple nearby if they wanted to continue practicing their religion.

Mark climbed the walls to watch the caravan leave. It was larger than most, with over a hundred people, and he had allowed most of the cultists to remain armed, with many carrying shields, spears, and swords.

Mohan's allegiance was part of the agreement, allowing them to remain in Dawnheim. If called to war, he would raise his warrior priests to fight by their side. 

“Are you sure this is wise?” Elowen said, stepping to Mark's side.

“Oh, hello, Elowen. It feels like we barely get a chance to speak these days.”

“I know. Everyone is busy. I barely get a moment myself; unfortunately, getting good help around here is hard,” she gritted her teeth. 

Mark noticed dark rings under her eyes and nodded. The Frontier had never been home to many scholars, and she was no doubt overworked between managing the stores and coffers and training her people.

“Sorry, I didn’t come here to whine.”

“It’s fine, Elowen,” Mark said. “There are many ways the recent events have tested us. Anyway, as you were saying. You wonder if it is wise I let the cultists live?” he continued, turning his gaze back to the caravan.

“They were our enemy, and there’s no guarantee that the wargs have been defeated just because they’ve been routed.”

“In theory, you’re right. But their alliance has been broken, and their lords killed. The warg army isn’t a fraction of what it was; even if it manages to pull itself together, I don’t fear it. Between our scouts and our defenses, they lack the power to threaten us here. At least not without time to rebuild.”

Whenever there was free manpower, Mark had them work on improving Winterclaw’s defenses. The walls were stronger than ever. Additional flamethrowers had been put in place, and while the spikes and barbed wire had mostly been cleared for temporary accommodation, watchtowers had gone up to make up for it. 

The watchtowers themselves were simple. Platforms were built into surrounding trees with ladders nailed straight into the trunk. They were mostly just there to provide a better line of sight for guards and had become more important for policing activities than anything else. Still, if they were attacked, they could be converted into defensive lines from which to fire Greek fire.

“I wish I had your confidence,” Elowen said.

“Ha,” Mark chuckled. “You? You’ve got twice the confidence I had at your age. I see you, Elowen. You’re more than happy to boss adults twice your age around.”

“Only when I know I’m right!”

“And when aren’t you?” Mark challenged.

“Well—that’s the point, isn’t it?” Elowen crossed her arms. “I am right.”

“Never change, Elowen,” Mark smiled. “Winterclaw needs you.”

“Thanks, I think. Anyway, I didn’t just come to talk about the cultists. It’s our finances. They’re in a dire situation. We need income. Debts are mounting up, and there’s not much we can do about it with our food supplies running so low. We’ve had to offer higher prices for raw rigar to encourage people to gather in less safe areas. One downside to all the defenses and build-up of Winterclaw is that people don’t want to leave it.”

“And what about the loot from the battle?”

“Honestly, it might have done more harm than good. Iron has been flooding into the market with all the looted weapons and devaluating our iron coins. A couple of iron coins used to be a treasure to most people inside the Low District, and now they’d barely get out of bed for it. In addition, very little of the loot came directly to us. We could increase the price of rigar to make up for it while maintaining a monopoly on its production. Unfortunately, smaller communities and those that haven’t profited from the war will be driven into starvation in all likelihood.”

“Understood,” Mark said, considering Elowen’s words. “We can’t be expected to micromanage every one of these tiny communities. This is why I am elevating lords and giving them control over these lands. They can’t accept the power granted to them and expect us to pay them and ensure their people don’t go hungry.”

“Agreed, but that doesn’t solve the problem. It’s not just the debt; we’re running out of people to buy our debt. Who knows what will happen if we suddenly decide to stop paying wages.”

“We won’t stop paying wages we have promised. But we will start requesting feudal reliefs be paid. We wrote the feudal relief into the feudal contracts handed out for a reason. Write up a proclamation declaring the end of celebrations,” Mark said.

Many taxes and fees had temporarily been suspended as part of post-war celebrations, but that had to end.

“Some lord won’t be able to afford these reliefs, and that is fine. They can pay them in installments. But make sure our tax collectors understand to press the issue. Many of our new lords have collected vast wealth through looting the battles, and now they are hoarding this wealth while we pay salaries to help build their new fiefs. It’s hardly fair, but the development of our young kingdom helps everyone, and if we decide to pull back on development, there’s no guarantee that the lords will pick up the lack.”

Elowen nodded, “that might just work. But it will only temporarily solve our problem.”

“We only need to solve the problem temporarily. Just long enough to develop some trade. Tell me, Elowen, how much does a fur sell for?”

“A fur? Between one to three irons, from memory.”

“Yes, and remember we were selling them for six crowns before the war, with no control over supply lines. All we need to do is recover that lost trade.”

“Something tells me the Imperium won’t be trading with us anytime soon,” Elowen countered.

“Who says we need to trade through the Imperium? All we need is a harbor.”

“And boats,” Elowen corrected.

“If there's one thing we have, it’s timber.”

“But no shipwrights.”

That was a good point; Mark had to coincide. He was no expert on the matter, but he understood enough that building large trading vessels was no easy task. He couldn’t just hire a carpenter and tell them to get to work. Shipbuilding was something that was perfected over generations and something he didn’t have the slightest clue about. Of course, if he could get someone else to provide the ships, that would be a different scenario.

“And if someone else provides the ships? Or at least the manpower?”

“That would work,” Elowen nodded thoughtfully. “But I doubt you’ll find anyone within Dawnheim capable of that. And anyone worth the coin within the Imperium isn’t about to become an outlaw for this fledgling kingdom. The kinds of people who wanted or had to live in the Frontier were already here. 

“Not Imperials. I doubt we’ll have any chance of swaying them to our side. But there’s a little island south of here called Xaarn.”

“I’m aware,” Elowen nodded. “Famous for pirates and trade. Shipbuilding, not so much.”

“They’re an island nation, Elowen. I’ve been there, and I can tell you they don’t have the forestry required for a shipbuilding industry. But they are entirely reliant on the seas. That puts them in a delicate situation.”

“So? If they don’t build ships, how exactly do you plan to use them to help us?”

“No island as rich in trade as Xaarn lacks contacts. You meet people when you trade. Not only that, but they obviously have ships, and that means they at least know the people who build them. You see, we have something they desperately need: timber. There is no way they enjoy being in a situation where they must rely on purchasing the thing that keeps their island alive. I propose that we offer them a deal. Help us develop a port city and the accompanying shipwright, and we will offer a treaty. Partial ownership of the shipwright.”

“In our land, though?” Elowen raised a brow.

“Right, but it still gives them direct access to build their own ships. Sure, it requires trust between our two kingdoms, but as fledgling kingdoms trying to carve out an existence for ourselves, I think we can convince them that we have the same goals in mind.”

“If it works, it would alleviate a lot of our problems,” Elowen agreed. “Still, that’s no small task. Even if Xaarn can help us bring skilled craftsmen to Dawnheim, we still need to build a town, harbor, and a shipwright.”

“The king of Xaarn is an enterprising man,” Mark said. “I have a feeling he’ll take an interest in this offer and be willing to help.”

“You plan on talking to him then?”

“I do,” Mark nodded. “I shall prepare my ship to travel south and meet with him. I had intended to wait until things got a little more established, but it seems my hand has been forced.”

“Okay. I shall get to work on those reliefs. But I’ll need manpower to send them out to the lords. I barely have enough clerks to keep things running around here. I can’t exactly spare them to send letters to all the lords.”

“I’ll have my scouts assist,” Mark said. “See me in my cabin later. We have to remain vigilant, Elowen. There’s no way I’m letting things fall apart because of economics after everything we’ve been through.”

“Agreed,” Elowen nodded.

NEXT CHAPTER