Chapter 9

It was their fourth day in Arwintar. The winter weather changed little; pale sunlight occasionally broke through heavy clouds that drenched the city in sheets of icy rain. These conditions did not dampen the spirits of the citizens in the First and second-class districts, however: they continued to carry themselves with a brisk energy that cut through the biting winds and cold weather.

Ludmila and her friends decided on a change in scenery after three days of shopping in the central market, heading out after a short stop to pick up breakfast at DEATH BREAD. It had become something of a routine: they went to the southern fourth-class district every morning before going off to do what they had planned for the day.

“Hey…are you sure about this?”

The question came from the opposite corner of the carriage, where Liane stared absently at their breakfast on the table with a thin-lipped frown.

“Didn’t you encourage us all to pick a couple of places we’d like to see?” Ludmila asked.

“Yeah,” Liane said, “but it’s the Slave Market. Maybe you’re curious and all, but I’ll tell you right now that the place is absolutely uninteresting.”

Ludmila gazed out of her window as their vehicle made its way across Arwintar’s First-Class District. She didn’t choose the Slave Markets as one of her destinations because she thought that it would be interesting. Liane knew this as well, but her abhorrence of the practice made it so that she persisted in her attempts to dissuade Ludmila from investigating the system of slavery employed by the Empire.

“If we choose to only see what pleases us,” Ludmila said, “we would be no different than these imperial citizens who blind themselves to the costs of their progress. An incomplete picture will not help us or the Empire; any uninformed actions that we take may only exacerbate its problems.”

They slowed to a stop in front of an ornate, wrought-iron gate. Beyond it was a long avenue that led to a great manor over two hundred metres from the estate’s entrance. Counting its tall windows of crystal glass, Ludmila wondered how many halls and chambers the massive three-storey building contained.

One of their footmen opened the door on her side of the carriage. Lady Frianne entered the carriage, light grey skirts raised in her silk-clad hands. Her complexion had gradually improved as she accompanied them over the past few days and the dark bags under her eyes kept concealed by illusion magic were mostly gone.

“Good morning,” she greeted them with a polite nod.

“‘Mornin!”

Behind Lady Frianne, Dimoiya boarded with a bright smile. She plopped herself down across the table from Ludmila, examining the breakfast arrayed before her with a ravenous expression. The door clicked shut and soon after they continued on their way.

“Turn into a Zombie yet, Dimoiya?” Liane asked.

“Nope!” Dimoiya answered, picking out a lightly-frosted apple strudel from the centre tray, “A Priest splashed Holy Water on me at the temple yesterday when she heard I was eating stuff from DEATH BREAD, though. My lord father nearly strangled her.”

Dimoiya cut out a huge bite from her pastry and Ludmila nearly shook her head. After her trip to the Katze Plains, she was certain that randomly tossing Holy Water at people would be illegal in places with Undead citizens. Furthermore, it proved nothing about those affected – almost all Undead took damage from Holy Water regardless of their disposition or intent.

“Did everyone bring their masks?” Lady Frianne asked.

“Yeppers,” Liane held up a simple porcelain mask that would cover her eyes and nose.

『Why do we need these masks again?』

『Because itchy young noblewomen commonly go to the Slave Market. Y’know – to browse. Don’t wanna stain our spotless reputations, yeah?』

Florine shifted slightly at Liane’s silent innuendo.

“So Dimoiya,” Florine asked. “Have you been enjoying Dreams of Red III?”

“I’ve read it five times now!”

“When do you sleep?” Ludmila furrowed her brow.

“Uh…I can’t remember,” Dimoiya said. “It’s just too good. I especially like when–mpha hoifh!”

Lady Frianne reached up and covered Dimoiya’s mouth.

“I haven’t read it yet,” she said. “I thought you were trying to make the time for it, but you’ve already gone through it five times over? Lady Wagner, I’m sure it’s clear that it should be my turn, yes?”

“Not ‘till you start calling me Liane.”

“…Liane.”

Dimoiya made a mournful noise from beneath Lady Frianne’s hand. Liane’s brutal methods could make even a duke’s daughter bend.

After putting away Liane’s copy of Dreams of Red III, Lady Frianne took a sip out of her steaming cup of imperial rose tea. After half a week, she still declined offers of breakfast from DEATH BREAD.

“I spoke with my lord father about the possibilities that you’ve presented,” she said.

“Oh?” Clara set down her fork, “What did Duke Gushmond have to say about them?”

“He refused most of the proposals immediately,” Lady Frianne told them. “The only suggestion that he appeared to show interest in was the notion that Skeletons could be used as labourers in the silver mines.”

“Industries with the worst labour conditions tend to show interest in the Undead first,” Clara replied with a slow nod, “so I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise. I understand that it’s only been a few days, but have you checked with the other dukes or any of the more prominent nobles?”

“Duke Vanelland and Duke Wimburg are still ‘away’,” Lady Frianne smirked. “With the impending operations of the Second and Sixth Legions, all of the margraves are out of the capital to prepare their territories for potential trouble. I’ve spoken with a handful of counts, but they have so far been unwilling to entertain the use of Undead labour. If my family’s silver mines show significant success, however, others should begin to express interest.”

It appeared that they had located one of the ‘cracks’ in the Empire’s defences that her friends were looking for. According to them, time and profit would work to widen it until their ideological walls broke apart.

“How about the new machinery?” Liane asked.

“Ah, about that. Everyone was interested right up to the point where they discovered what was powering everything. If not for that, I’m fairly certain that everyone would have asked for an appointment. I’ve only covered about a fifth of the First-Class district but, in the meanwhile, I think I know of someone who won’t have any qualms over the use of Undead labour.”

Liane straightened in her seat.

“Who is it?”

“One of the highest-ranking members of the Imperial Ministry of Magic,” Lady Frianne said. “The head of the Ministry has retired from the forefront of the organisation, so his lands have been redistributed to his disciples.”

“So these newly-enfeoffed disciples need labour for their lands?”

“Fluder Paradyne’s priorities revolved around creating fertile ground for the advancement of arcane magic,” Lady Frianne told them. “This included helping to establish the foundations of several imperial institutions and guiding the Emperors of every generation to create the Baharuth Empire of today. When it comes to demesne management or anything like politics or administration, however, he has no personal interest.

“As such, seneschals managed these territories on his behalf. Much like fiefs in Re-Estize, industries that exist on the land are not attached to any specific person or family, but the title. Since the lord of those fiefs was not in any way involved in the operations of his demesne, no entanglements arose from the transfer of their titles. The incomes provided by each fief’s industries and any derivative businesses simply go from the old lord to the new.”

Ludmila turned her gaze out towards the scenery of the First-Class District, brow furrowing as Lady Frianne spoke. As she understood it, this was the ideal system of administration that the Baharuth Empire pursued. It was similar to the compartmentalised administrative subdivisions that Ludmila and Clara had set up in their territories with the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Elder Liches and not too different from how the old system of fiefs functioned in Re-Estize.

The difference in the Empire was that the bureaucrat managing each subdivision was a graduate of the Imperial Magic Academy with all that such an education entailed. There were also questions about whether the ‘bonuses’ of having a Noble serving as head administrator had equivalents in whatever Job Class these imperial bureaucrats were. Figuring that part out, however, was difficult since the Empire had far more uncontrolled variables to factor into such an analysis and lacked the exceptional data management of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s administration.

“What sort of compensation were these disciples provided before this change?” Clara asked.

“They were paid a salary out of the Ministry of Magic’s budget,” Lady Frianne answered, “which is in turn allocated by the Court Council. This is no longer necessary as they now earn revenues from their new titles.”

『Administrative matters of this nature are not my strong point, but is this not a convoluted way to organise things?』

Liane and Florine appeared to ponder Ludmila’s question.

『It doesn’t sound like these titles are meant to be hereditary…I don’t get it.』

『Uh…so they used to receive a salary, but their old boss is out of the picture and…huh?』

Something wasn’t right. Florine took a sip of her tea.

『Alright, so by granting them lands, a salary no longer has to be paid by the Imperial Ministry of Magic. This frees up the Ministry’s budget to…no, wait…』

『It is to cultivate loyalty and display recognition.』

Ludmila, Liane and Florine turned their attention to Clara.

『It is the Emperor bestowing these titles, not the Imperial Administration. This means that the loyalty of those enfeoffed goes to the throne rather than the bureaucracy. Not only does the Imperial House use its authority and resources to keep the factions within the Empire in check, but it also ensures that the Imperial Administration and the institutions of the Empire are never in a position to move against the throne should unpopular decisions or reforms be required.』

More intrigue. Ludmila released a small sigh. Everything in the Empire seemed to revolve around political authority, influence and power. It was a very different sort of absolute monarchy than that of the Sorcerous Kingdom – one whose ‘absolute authority’ needed to be constantly maintained lest it be lost to internal strife.

By contrast, the Sorcerous Kingdom was ruled by a god. Its citizens could act with a certainty that stemmed from his absolute existence.

“Out of curiosity,” Ludmila asked. “How are the Imperial Knights compensated? I don’t believe they are granted fiefs like conventional Knights.”

“They are paid a salary like most officials in any government department,” Lady Frianne replied. “These salaries are according to rank, of course. As the Imperial Army answers directly to His Imperial Majesty, the Imperial Army’s budget is derived from taxes and the crown’s other revenues.”

“Are new Nobles ever promoted out of its ranks?”

“Those who distinguish themselves are promoted if their achievements are significant enough. Many high-ranking officers in the Imperial Army are non-inheriting martial Nobles who are granted lands of their own due to their martial excellence, but there are sometimes cases where commoners are promoted. Lord Peshmel is probably the most well-known example of this: he was originally a dockworker from one of the cities on the strand. Now, he’s a Great Imperial Knight and Count Palatine of the Empire.”

“Lord Peshmel’s arrangement is similar to these disciples in the Imperial Ministry of Magic?”

“Though his rank and title are higher,” Lady Frianne nodded, “it effectively is. He similarly cares little for administration or politics: his lands are simply a source of income to him. The man is as common as he was the day he assumed his office – it’s quite infuriating for many members of the aristocracy to deal with.”

“…is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

Lady Frianne’s lip twitched slightly.

“Depending on the circumstances,” she said, “it can be quite amusing. Especially when certain ambitious Nobles attempt to draw him into their games of intrigue. Other times, I wish I could strangle him. Since the Great Imperial Knights are first and foremost concerned with the protection of the Emperor, however, his conduct rarely results in issues when performing public duties.”

“I see,” Ludmila said. “I suppose the relationship between members of the Ministry of Magic and the Empire’s aristocracy is somewhat similar.”

“Their conduct would be considered stereotypical for Wizards, yes,” Lady Frianne said. “The individual I mentioned has a different arrangement from the others, however. Baroness Noia requested a county-sized expanse of undesirable and mostly-undeveloped crown land, which His Imperial Majesty was more than happy to grant. As with nearly all of the Ministry of Magic’s best and brightest she’s quite the eccentric, but it also means that she has no qualms about employing the Undead if they provide tangible benefits.”

“Will she be at the Ministry of Magic when we drop by?” Liane asked.

“Baroness Noia is a researcher,” Lady Frianne answered, “and she rarely leaves her work. We should be able to find her in her laboratory while we’re there, and she’ll probably be more than happy to show you what she’s been working on. Those who display interest in her research may not be able to easily peel her off of them, so you may wish to keep that in mind.”

The carriage stopped at the opposite gate of the First-Class District, undergoing a brief inspection before being waved through. As the road curved gently down the hillside, they were offered a commanding view of Arwintar’s northern sprawl. Beyond the cultivated fields outside of the walls, the mountains north of the capital could be seen crossing the horizon.

“Was there some specific reason you wanted to see the Slave Market, Lady Zahradnik?”

Ludmila turned her attention from the window to answer Lady Frianne’s question.

“Slavery is illegal in the Sorcerous Kingdom,” she said. “As was it in Re-Estize. I’ve personally seen the conditions and effects associated with illegal slavery early in the transitionary stages of E-Rantel, so I find it difficult to imagine what slavery in the Empire is like to have it remain an institution of one of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s client states.”

“I see…you are aware of the imperial reforms brought about thirty years ago?”

“I am,” Ludmila replied. “Even so, the idea bothers me. It is something I must see for myself.”

Lady Frianne studied her quietly from behind an unreadable mask.

“I cannot speak for what you’ve observed elsewhere,” she said after several moments, “but I believe that you will find slavery in the Empire very much unlike what you would witness in other nations.”