Interlude

The Calm Before The Storm

{Excerpt}

A fraternity formed by the merchants of Doumveil in Crotha (in present-day Aries) in the year 1470 S.T. was believed to be the first example of a merchant guild in Udoris.

These institutions controlled the process by which trade was conducted and codified rules governing the conditions of commerce. These rules established by merchant guilds were often incorporated into the charters granted to market towns.

Shortly after the war, a confederation of merchant guilds, formed out of the Verumitte cities of Serbia and Hadrian, came to dominate trade around the bay of Litchtona, extending out towards the Buxster sea area. By the next few decades, the merchant guilds had sufficient resources to erect branches in all major market towns across Udoris, soon becoming the Chamber of Commerce known today.

During the end of the century, Udorian businesses grew larger, became more permanent, and later became able to maintain sedentary merchants specialised in financing, organisation and transport of a system of agents who were domiciled overseas and acted on behalf of a principal.

These arrangements first appeared on the route from Serbia to the Mryh. By the end of the century, merchant colonies could be found in all Udorian capitals. From Greystones to Ferum, Neude, Cantoria, Riverville, White river valley and even, the seclusive Arien capital, Hatford. Over time these partnerships became more commonplace and led to the development of large trading companies. These developments also enabled the growth of the Sanctuary of Scrolls as well as the Church of the twins, both of which are now close partners who once benefited greatly from the sponsorships and grants provided by the Chamber of Commerce.

These developments led to what is still today heavily debated by Udorian scholars and monastic men of learning alike to be the true birth of capitalism and the commercial revolution on Udoris, rather than the closely linked series of undoubtedly brutal events that soon followed.

...

Excerpt from Jonas Diane's second book on Udorian powers - 'Capitalism, the mother of a modern civilization'

{END}

Greenfields

…

THE FIRST SNOW BEGAN JUST a few days ago and now the entire town was coated in a blanket of pristine white. Levi exhaled, a foggy mist escaping his breath as he aimed down the crude iron sights of the musket in his hands. Steadying his support arm, he fixed the dummy target planted about fifty metres away firmly in his sights, right before immediately snapping his eyes shut and pulled the weapon’s trigger. With a deafening bang, the musket recoiled painfully into his shoulder and expelled a cloud of bluish smoke into the air.

Levi opened his eyes to see as the smog in front of him was immediately blown away by a chilling draft from his left. Away in the distance, the target stood unharmed.

“By how far was I off?” Levi asked, adjusting his coat with a slight shiver before levelling the musket vertically as he jammed a cleaning rod down its barrel.

“About a quarter metre to the left, my Lord,” Lancelot replied, rubbing his gloved palms together as he observed the target with a discerning stare.

Levi nodded, calmly pouring gunpowder from a powder horn down the musket's muzzle. Tamping down the powder a moment later, he simply tossed in a lead shot before pushing it down the barrel with the flat end of the cleaning rod.

With another smooth application of gunpowder into the flash pan, he aimed, pressing the musket’s butt into the crook of his shoulder before snapping his eyes shut and firing. Levi’s shoulder stung as the weapon’s recoil reverberated through his skin once more.

Yet again another transient cloud of smoke appeared then disappeared, this time revealing a mangled straw dummy at the other end of the shooting range. It lay prone on the floor with nearly a dozen other targets in similar conditions of varying levels of ruination.

“Sixteen shots to bring down ten targets at fifty metres,” Levi commented with an approving nod, “much better than yesterday’s record.”

“Yes my lord, it is,” Lancelot readily agreed. “Maybe someday, you might indeed achieve a perfect score of ten in ten.”

“Thanks, but I highly doubt the possibility of that happening with how inaccurate the weapon currently is,” Levi said, passing the musket back to Lancelot. “Maybe someday, when I have more time on my hands and even less to worry about, I can get around to drawing up a better-designed weapon. This just wouldn’t do it for me.”

“You are holding possibly the most powerful weapon a single man can wield in the entirety of Udoris,” Lancelot muttered with a baffled frown, “and you are still not content with it?”

“Oh my dear viscount, just because something is the best in Udoris doesn’t mean it is good enough for me. For all I know, the rest could just be worthless trash and this is slightly better.”

“And you are certain of this how my Liege?” Lancelot countered.

“So,” Levi said, propping one hand under his chin in a display of mock contemplation, “do you think a weapon that cannot shoot as accurately, quickly or far as a longbow, makes enough noise to alert every enemy with working ears in a half-mile radius to your location, is useless in heavy rain and is still very dangerous to handle even on a normal day is the epitome of what a weapon could be?”

“...I guess not,” Lancelot replied with an uncertain frown. Levi, fully aware of the fact that he had just ruined muskets for the viscount, could not stop the smile of schadenfreude that crept onto his face as he relished in the faint feeling of smugness that followed this vicious act of cruelty.

“Ah, one must appreciate life’s little pleasures,” Levi mused fondly to himself as a petite figure bounded over in their direction.

"Whoa!" Javi exclaimed as she hopped to a stop by his side with a giggle. “That was so cool!

“Having fun?” Levi asked as he gently ruffled her hair with a doting smile.

“Yes!” Javi exclaimed again before pointing at the musket in Lancelot’s hands. “Can I see it, please?”

Levi was quick to notice that Javi was quite steadfast in avoiding her father’s reproachful gaze even as she made that request. ‘Smart,’ Levi thought to himself, approving.

“Sure, you can see it” Levi replied, seemingly not noticing as Lancelot turned his reproachful gaze from his daughter towards him. “Anything for my little princess.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea―”

“Ah, relax old man,” Levi interrupted as he gently pried the musket from the viscount’s hand. “It’s not like she is going to be shooting, she just wants to see it. Right, Javi?”

“I won’t?” she pouted in shock, but quickly smothered the expression, peeking sidelong at her father as Levi handed the weapon to her. ”Ah, I mean, yes I won’t!”

“Good,” Levi replied as he casually dropped the slightly over ten-pound gun in her willowy arms.

‘Woah, it’s somewhat… heavy,” Javi grunted, her pale face flushing a faint red from exertion as she struggled to hold the weapon level.

“Yes,” the earl nodded sagely, “Yes, it is.”

“You didn’t say it was heavy.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Exasperated, Lancelot simply rolled his eyes at Levi before turning to face his daughter. “If it’s too heavy, you know you can just give it back,” he said.

“No,” Javi argued as she continued to struggle with the musket. “No, it’s fine.”

“We are walking back to the Keep,” Lancelot stated calmly. “And with the way things are going, Lord Levi here might decide to stop in town for something completely random again. Are you still sure it’s fine, Javi?”

Javi froze as an awkward silence descended upon the group. She looked from the musket in her hands to a smiling Levi standing behind her. Then she gulped heavily and her eyes turned slightly haunted as the implications of her father’s words fully dawned on her.

“...Uh,” Javi coughed much unlike a proper lady as he passed the musket back to Lancelot. “Here father, you can have it back. I am done seeing it.”

“Are you sure?” Levi asked. “You can still hold on to it for a while you know.”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head like a rattle-drum as she turned to leave. “I'm fine.”

The two men chuckled. Embarrassed, a red-faced Javi stomped away, lips twisted into a small pout. “Meanies,” she shouted back moments later.

“Stop bullying my daughter, Levi,” Sir Lancelot said as he tried and failed to suppress his chuckling.

“Would you rather I bully you instead, viscount?” Levi asked innocently. “I still have about a hundred pages of miscellaneous paperwork that I think you could help me parse for feasibility.”

“More?” Lancelot asked, with his left brow crooked.

“Yes, I drafted them last night,” Levi nodded. “It’s very similar to the last one we worked on regarding the future layout of Greenfields and Redwater, only now we would be focusing more on the feasibility of erecting a community-wide waterworks, drainage and irrigation system before winter next year.”

“Irrigation for the town? Is that really important, my lord?”

“Not at the moment, especially given our plates are already so full. But I felt it might be possible to squeeze it in, so why not. Besides, the towns get muddy in spring and just downright disgusting during summer, I would love not to have to deal with that again.”

“...I see,” the viscount said. “Well then, have fun my liege. She’s all yours.”

Levi clicked his tongue in response. “Father of the year, uhn?”

“What can I do, my Liege” Lancelot replied gravely. “Some things are just destined to remain beyond me. Well, that aside and on the topic of paperwork, I have been meaning to confirm something with you. I was informed a while back that you dispatched a knight to spend the winter at an inn in Pyrga and another three hidden on some recluse hill a few miles down the river from Redwater.”

“Ah yes, I ought to have told you already,” Levi said, keeping one eye out on Javi’s form as she bounded down the snowy path ahead. “Well, I realised the lockdown would mean we would be disconnected from important news outside of Greenfields and Redwater. So, I had Sir Justin send someone discreet to Pyrga to be our ears outside, and relay important info back home via messenger pigeon.

“As for the men on that nondescript hill you mentioned, they would be lookouts in case something important—like let’s say, news of a ship bearing the Hera’s emblem sailing upstream via the Strega—managed to slip under the radar. I would hate to wake up one morning early next spring to reports of Margrave Josh’s schooner moored to our harbour without any prior notice.”

“You make a valid point, my Lord,” Lancelot agreed readily. “I would hate that as well. Also, my Liege?"

"Yes, Sir Lancelot?"

"...What is radar?"