Chapter 10

“You should take all of it,” an authoritative voice sounded into the air.

“Eh?”

“You heard me: everything.”

“But…but what about the villagers?”

“They’re your villagers – you can do whatever you want with them.”

“Muu…”

Chief Esess scratched his chin in thought at Ilyshn’ish’s statement, and Ludmila sighed. The three of them were standing on the shadowed slope above the dried reeds of the valley floor, northeast of the first farming village. Roughly five kilometres further on, the first of the Lizardman villages was being assembled. The wooden pilings that suspended the village above where the water’s surface would be in the future had already been driven into the ground by an Iron Golem. The Lizardmen were now working to lay out the planks that made up the lowest level of their new homes.

She had parted ways with Ilyshn’ish the previous night, allowing her time to become familiar with her new mountain home. The Frost Dragon returned around noon in her Snow Elf appearance, looking quite a bit less timid than before.

After a brief series of questions, Ludmila discovered that, in addition to her native Draconic, Ilyshn’ish was highly fluent in the language of the Azerlisian Mountain Dwarves, and had the equivalent to an average Human commoner’s grasp of the Re-Estize language used in E-Rantel. No, that wasn’t right: she had a decent grasp of Re-Estize script, but her speech was atrocious. It was the opposite of the average subject of Re-Estize, which had a mostly illiterate population.

Having a Dragon pretending to be an Elf speaking a Human language with a Dwarven accent – which she asserted was closer to Human language than her native language – was distracting to the extreme, so she decided to keep her lessons in language separate from everything else until it had been polished to an acceptable degree. Aside from her grasp of language, she had picked up a quirky sort of interpretation regarding the customs of the city and its mostly Human population. Beyond that, Ludmila could only see that they had a long road ahead of them.

That aside, she somewhat expected something like her response to their current topic out of her. Though they might not be entirely accurate, the tales of Dragons nearly always painted them as vain and greedy beings. What she had not considered was the idea that Chief Esess would not dismiss Ilyshn’ish’s statement out of hand.

“What do you propose to do with everything you take?” Ludmila asked.

“Why, keep it, of course,” Ilyshn’ish said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Treasures are to be hoarded – it’s only natural.”

“So everything will just sit there,” Ludmila’s voice turned deadpan.

“That’s right,” Ilyshn’ish nodded.

“But it won’t be doing anything.”

“Of course it will be doing something,” Ilyshn’ish scoffed. “It will be sitting there, as proper treasure should.”

Ludmila’s gaze turned to Chief Esess, who blinked at her nervously in return. Lizardmen didn’t have a penchant for amassing idle wealth, did they?

The topic of their discussion had to do with some information that the Lizardman Chief managed to retrieve regarding the productivity of the Great Lake’s fish farms. If she were to be honest, the records that were provided were not so great, being taken in the non-standard measures that were historically used by their people. Still, it was something tangible to work with.

Going by what the figures loosely translated out to, the space she had allocated for use by the Lizardmen would easily be able to support five villages. The villages and their fish farms were arranged so that they only occupied a small percentage of the southern, marshy half of the newly-shaped floor of the Vale. With only 160 villagers to start with, Chief Esess estimated that it would take a century or two to occupy what had been granted to him, and he conveyed that the villagers were quite pleased with the arrangement.

Inevitably, the discussion went to the collection of revenues, at which point Ilyshn’ish grew keenly interested.

“The village will be producing fish,” Ludmila said. “If you just leave them there, they will rot.”

“Not if they’re frozen.”

“The purpose of collecting revenues,” Ludmila told her, “is to maintain the working state of one’s fief and promote further development with the excess. Just keeping it all for your personal use is short-sighted and unproductive. The goal is to create a prosperous demesne so that you may collect more revenues from it in the future.”

“Don’t Humans have some sort of proverb concerning that?” Ilyshn’ish said, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, or some such.”

“You have an obligation to put your land to productive use, if possible. Maintaining it is a part of that, and investing excess revenues for promising ventures will not ruin you. It will not do to remain stagnant – it is not a very pleasant position to be in, believe you me.”

“Well, let’s say we entertain your strange idea,” Ilyshn’ish said. “What can you do with so much fish?”

Ludmila resisted the impulse to narrow her eyes at the Frost Dragons words. Did Lady Shalltear have to put up with this sort of insolence? The idea that she might only irritated Ludmila all the further, and she took a calming breath before speaking again.

“The Duchy of Re-Estize is landlocked and lacking in major bodies of water, so the demand for fish is relatively high outside of Warden’s Vale.”

“I see…so these fish will be exchanged for coins.”

“That’s right,” Ludmila nodded. “After that, the coins may be put to productive use…Chief Esess?”

“Ah, mm…after I’ve cleared my debts–”

“He has debts?” Ilyshn’ish exclaimed incredulously, eyeing Chief Esess up and down. “I don’t see anything expensive on his person. How did he end up in debt?”

“From the material and labour costs of constructing his new village,” Ludmila replied, “as well as from provisioning his people while they settle themselves.”

Ilyshn’ish gazed out at the Lizardmen constructing their village. Her brow furrowed, nearly turning into a scowl.

“What fool would lend someone their wealth for something like this?”

“I did,” Ludmila frowned.

Ilyshn’ish looked askance at her, then she put on a thoughtful expression.

“Hmm…I believe I see what’s going on here,” Ilyshn’ish said. “You have somehow tricked this Lizardman and his people to take on a debt to you, just so they can indefinitely pay taxes to you in the future. This is quite the scheme you have going on here – once they’re done paying off their debt, you will burden them with a new one, yes?”

Chief Esess’ tail went limp and his mouth fell open. He sent a betrayed look in Ludmila’s direction.

“How can you see it in such a twisted way?” Ludmila said.

“I’m not wrong, am I?”

“As their liege, I am ultimately responsible for Chief Esess and his people. By temporarily waiving the cost of materials and supplies, I am helping them get established as quickly as possible, not foisting some insidious scheme upon them. The debt he holds is only for what he has borrowed.”

“So you don’t plan on keeping them in debt to permanently bind them to you?”

“Of course not!”

“A wasted opportunity,” Ilyshn’ish snorted. “My father would have used it to force them to do all sorts of things. Since I am ‘managing’ land as a Knight, can I levy taxes as well?”

“Only with those you hold legally binding contracts with,” Ludmila replied, then an unsettling possibility came upon her. “Please do not fly around ‘taxing’ random people around the countryside. Also, do not coerce people into contracts with you.”

Ilyshn’ish clicked her tongue with a vexed look.

Would it be appropriate to ‘poke’ her now? Ludmila glanced over at Chief Esess. It probably wasn’t a good idea: if she impaled a fellow vassal right in front of him, he would probably never recover mentally.

“Please continue with what you were saying, Chief Esess.”

“Yes, my lady,” Chief Esess straightened. “The information from the farms at the Great Lake is promising, but we have no way to move so many fish. Well, before even that, we have no merchants.”

“Not a single one of your villagers is interested in selling the village’s goods?”

Chief Esess shook his head. Over time, Ludmila had learned more about the Lizardmen, and one thing of note was that they were generally loath to leave their homes. They were content, now that they were starting to settle into their new land, but it was only through the undeniable might of the Sorcerous Kingdom that so many had come to Warden’s Vale at all. Though they could be motivated to act out of sorts on a temporary basis, those willing to regularly travel abroad and represent their fellows were exceedingly rare.

“I think it would be easiest to sell our fish in the harbour town,” the Lizardman Chieftain said. “The Human merchants that come in the future can handle it from there. I understand that it might result in some disadvantageous prices, but our people have no need for great wealth in the first place. We are content with having a home that is safe to raise our families in; one where our people do not starve.”

It was an answer that she herself might have given only half a year ago, and it was certainly the way her father thought.

“I strongly advise that you raise some merchants out of your own number,” Ludmila said. “They need not travel very far – the furthest they would need to go is Corelyn Harbour, which is just over a day distant by way of the river. Not only will they directly represent your interests; they will be exposed to new goods and ideas that might be beneficial to your people in the future.”

“Muu…I don’t think I can think that far ahead…”

“It is something that will happen on its own – at least that is how it works for Humans.”

Chief Esess’ reaction to Ilyshn’ish’s earlier statement gave her pause over her own assumptions about the Lizardmen. Her prevailing thought was that every species that possessed even a bit of intelligence, and many of those that were commonly categorized as lacking in it, still behaved in a manner that was conducive to their kind as a whole. They sought opportunities for themselves and their offspring, and inherently understood on a basic level what was good for their kind. This sort of thinking extended to everything, so long as an individual had a working grasp on what they were being exposed to.

The Lizardmen seemed no different, seeing the marshy floodplain of Warden’s Vale as an ideal location to create a village. Just as a Human might see a pastoral vista and start to think about whether it could be cultivated for crops or used to raise livestock, she thought that similar thoughts must have run through the Lizardmen’s minds when they first laid eyes upon the scenery of the Vale. Her eyes went again to the village being constructed, running over the ring of enclosures being set up around it.

“Lord Cocytus mentioned that the fish farms being managed at Great Lake were a recent idea,” Ludmila said, “one that was brought there by a Traveller. Is that true?”

“Yes, my lady,” Chief Esess nodded, “this is true. It was not long before His Majesty came to us that the first one was constructed by a member of my old tribe.”

“Why did this Traveller think to do such a thing?” Ludmila asked.

Chief Esess scratched his chin in thought again. His eyes went to the village as well.

“Because of the war that happened several years ago…probably,” he said. “Our small part of the lake was insufficient to feed our numbers, and the seven tribes became five. It was only then, when so many had died, that we could survive off of the lake again. Zaryusu – the Traveller we speak of – must have thought it a way to escape the cycle of starvation and war that we were trapped in.”

To Ludmila’s knowledge, Demihuman tribes tended to expand and wage war on neighbouring tribes when their populations grew too large. Lizardmen did not breed prodigiously, like Goblins, nor were they notably strong compared to the Demihuman and Heteromorph tribes that shared the same habitat as them. In addition, they had a mostly placid nature, and could only be riled up through strong influences.

The result was that they, as a whole, tended to not act preemptively to solve their problems: they could only compete with one another when those problems came. It would only take some badly timed event to wipe them out. Ludmila suspected that this Traveller’s radical – as far as Lizardmen went – thinking had influenced more than just their food situation.

“How did your people receive him?”

“At first,” Chief Esess’ tail swished over the grass, “not well. Things didn't go as well as he had expected – the enclosures would break and the fish would escape. Monsters and beasts would come and raid the farm while he was away for an easy meal. He even ended up with a farm full of dead fish a few times. My parents told me how foolish he was: that he was playing with our precious food. If he was not so strong, and if he was not the Chief’s brother, the villagers might have gone and killed him to put an end to his wastefulness.”

“Do they still feel that way?”

“No,” he let out a hissing chuckle. “It took Zaryusu over a year to figure things out, but, once he started seeing some success, the people quickly changed their minds. No one considers the fish farms foolish anymore.”

“You mentioned that he was Chieftain Shasha’s brother,” Ludmila said. “Did he use his authority to assist with the development of the fish farms?”

“Yes,” Chief Esess nodded, “he was very assertive about it. The priests; the hunters – even the common folk were told to help out. All they could do was complain outside of his hearing. Personally, I think Chief Shasha’s decisiveness on the matter was an admirable thing: it is a sort of courage that I can only aspire to.”

Ludmila nodded. To take risks in uncertain times, one did need a certain sort of courage. It was magnified by several degrees when one was responsible for many. With Chief Esess’ account, Ludmila could confidently reason that Lizardmen did indeed hold some of the same, basic lines of thinking as many other races when it came to their own.

“While they are not exactly ‘Travellers’,” Ludmila said, “Merchants, through their work, are exposed to the world beyond in a similar fashion. Through the measures that they develop for themselves, they will also see products and ideas that hold value for their businesses or those they are associated with. A Human is not a Lizardman, so one will never fully understand what a Lizardman sees as desirable. By the same token, a Human Merchant will not perceive what they are exposed to by the same measures as a Lizardman Merchant. You need not send them far away to begin with – just having them conduct their trade around the Vale is a perfectly respectable start.”

“Will they find ideas just by working around here, my lady? Zaryusu went far beyond the lake.”

“I am not a Lizardman,” Ludmila shrugged, “so I cannot say if they will find anything of value to your people. What I can say is that you will never know if no one goes out there. New ideas and ways of thinking are abundant in the Sorcerous Kingdom; it would be both embarrassing and sad to see you carry on in isolation, ignorant of the things that could change your lives for the better not a few hours away.”

“But even if ideas come,” Chief Esess said, “they are difficult to adopt. Zaryusu was met with much scorn and ridicule, and the path to success was filled with failure.”

“To support these people is your job as Chief, yes?” Ludmila told him, “Just as Chief Shasha supported this Zaryusu. Identifying beneficial ideas that are presented to you by those who return is an important task. Not only must you consider what may or may not work for your people, but you must also be in a position to support the efforts to develop them. How you manage your revenues is a crucial component of this: your people must be left with enough to support themselves, your fief needs to be maintained, and the excess used to explore avenues that might lead to greater prosperity.”

Chief Esess was silent for a long moment, seemingly digesting her words. Ilyshn’ish stood beside her with an unreadable expression. Did this sort of thinking make any sense to a Dragon? Maybe she was composing some elaborate scheme that only mimicked the ideas presented in a shallow way.

“I should leave you to your work,” Ludmila told the Lizardman chief. “Was our discussion enough to help you figure out how to structure your tenant contracts?”

“It gives me a lot to think about,” Chief Esess replied. “I must reconsider many things now. Once I have come up with a new outline, I will present it to you for review.”

“I am glad to have been of assistance,” Ludmila said. “I will be in my manor if you have anything further to discuss – I have a pile of work waiting for me, as well.”

“One question, if I may,” Chief Esess said.

“What is it?”

“Do you do this as well? Everything you spoke of.”

“House Zahradnik was not in a position to do everything I mentioned until recently, but this is something that I do now, yes.”

“Is…is it something that all Human Lords do?”

Was it? She didn’t think that it was.

Lady Shalltear had mentioned something about her being compelled to act according to the classes that she possessed. Even if this was the case, however, it was clear that the behaviour of different nobles at least hinged on their perception of the world, after which their skills as nobles came into effect. The result was that nobles varied widely, to the point that it was nearly impossible to tell that they were being influenced by their class unless one was aware of the notion that Lady Shalltear had presented.

“Not all Human Lords think the same way,” Ludmila told him. “As for myself, I am blessed with a very dear friend who is unmatched at this sort of thing.”