Ernst loosened his tunic lace and started to ventilate it as a temporary reprieve from the scorching hot sun. He looked around at the dozens of militiamen and New Altdorf’s reinforcements of pistoliers and outriders pitching their camp right by the river, downstream of Maltdorf. Beckoning one of the outrider reinforcements, he hoped that the soldier was loyal to the Hanoschafts. He then spotted a few resentful looks coming his way from several pistoliers. I’m not sure if they’re looking at me for abandoning my brother and workmates to their deaths or they’re directing their hatred towards the Hanoschafts. A grizzled looking man came over to him and took off his helmet and nodded towards him.

“Sorry for interrupting your lunch but I need to know if you encountered a lizardmen army.”

The outrider laughed but quickly stopped as he noticed Ernst growing irritation. “We didn’t see any of those lizards. As if they’re hidin’ from us. Those ‘chameleons’ may have been quite ‘brave’ and attacked a group of lumbermen, thinkin’ they’re easy pickings. Little did they know that they were blessed by Taal!” He paused but Ernst urged him to carry on, to satisfy his curiosity about this miracle. “Ye should’ve listened to ‘em Lord Ernst. They keep rambling about how Taal saved them! They saw someone with a green robe, wearing antlers!”

This is interesting. Something to tell Rein. He loves listening to these miracles. Ernst then heaved a huge sigh of relief. It’s good that we won’t be sieged. I may have been trained by Lord Hervig and Herr Schmidt, but I still can’t grasp around the concept of standing my ground against abominations. I may manage against fellow humans. Gods knows I’ve been fighting them since Lord Hervig entrusted me as a trade delegation towards the Settler’s coast.

“Thank you for telling me, my good man. I think I can persuade Mayor Malt to give you extra rations of ale.” Ernst shouted and was rewarded with enthusiastic cheering from the other outriders. He politely declined a few invitations and headed straight towards Malt’s manor.

“Ernst! Is there going to be an army attacking us!?” A boy shouted towards him whilst jumping up and down.

“You seem to be quite excited about this, Little Rein. War is never good. And we’re lucky that it was just a false alarm.” But the presence of those chameleons would provoke mass panic and hysteria to spread across the colony. I need to tell Lord Hervig about this.

“But I’ll get to see more dinosaurs and human sized reptiles and lizards! And we have guns! They won’t stand a chance against us.”

“Reinhard… Listen. You shouldn’t be excited about this. You may die and your parents and Anna may never see you again… I should know.” He inaudibly whispered the last bit. The horror and guilt still haunting him.

“We have professional state troops though! Heavily armoured and armed with guns! They may not be breechloading rifles yet, but we’ll get there. At least we’re not armed with pickaxes and shovels.”

Ernst gritted his teeth at that. He managed to suppress a growing anger filling inside him; threatening to escape in a violent outburst. That was probably unintentional. The boy didn’t mean it. He repeatedly said inside his head and inhaled deeply to calm himself down.

“Ernst… What’s wrong?” Reinhard tilted his head at him and quickly pointed towards the lumbermen downhill. “I’ve been eavesdropping on them. Apparently, not one of them is a mage, so they must’ve been touched and divined by Sigmar!” He squealed with his eyes widening.

“No… There are other different gods and goddesses that exist… I thought you read all the books in the library?”

Reinhard stuck his tongue out, “I have! I heard my father muttering something and he seemed quite happy, so I followed him and listened to what he was saying. He was saying all the ‘acceptable’ gods in a list.” Both of them started laughing at that. “Mamma says that pappa does that a lot whenever he feels ‘grateful’. That’s why I read up about them. My favourite is Verena. The Goddess of knowledge and science. Oh, and justice and law.”

It’s not a surprise that’s she’s your favourite. Probably she divined you and made you an erudite at a young age. Best not tell him that. Don’t want to make his arrogance more insufferable. “If you read about them then you should’ve realised that all gods and goddesses can influence the world in their own way. Mainly through divine miracles. You should’ve saw a miracle when the Temple of Sigmar was built and inaugurated.”

“That was so cool! There was a cool hammer! I read about it and learned that it’s called ‘Ghal Maraz’, made by the dwarves who gave it to the Empire’s first Emperor and its main deity. I thought Sigmar was the only god capable of divining miracles…” He impatiently tapped on his foot and started humming. “They’re lumberjacks… Often one with nature. Is it Taal?”

“Correct.” Ernst said and immediately spotted him grinning and puffing his chest out which made him punch Reinhard’s head.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Didn’t like the way you were looking at me.”

Malt intruded on them and they quickly shut up. “Ye may have already know this but, thankfully there’s no lizard armies comin’ fer us. That’s good. Now come and follow me to where we grow the bitterbeans.” The trio walked and snaked through the clumsily built village and finally walked past the walls and reached an empty field. “It may look empty, but the samplings we’re plantin’ in the ground, would probably take a few years to grow. Those ones there,” He pointed at a group of trees that sprouted yellow coloured pods. “Those are bitterbean trees. I’m quite proud of me farmers! They were planted just five years ago and now look at ‘em! Fully grown I say!”

“That doesn’t seem a lot of bitterbeans that you’re growing.” Ernst contemplated. “You promised us a dozen sacks of bitterbeans!”

“We ‘ave! I’m just showing yous the future bitterbean orchard that’s going to spread throughout Maltdorf. Most of the bitterbeans currently harvested are from cutting the trees down and harvesting them deep into the jungle. We use the timber for wood which is very convenient to build our homes.”

Reinhard was unusually silent and would stare at the state of the orchard and the few grown trees inside it. He walked towards the trees which made the two follow him.

“Oy, kid- Reinhard! Where you going?”

“Just going to inspect the trees, Herr Malt. I’m going to check if they’re growing properly. Follow me. I’ve read about how to grow trees in great detail and hopefully I would get the honour to tell you. So, come, come!” He skipped happily through the paths leaving behind a bewildered mayor.

Malt couldn’t believe the nerve of the kid and he started to huff in annoyance and paced his footsteps a bit too aggressively which was noticed by Ernst. “You’ll get use to him, Herr Malt. He’s a bright and intelligent child. That kid knows everything. Unfortunately, that just made him a bit arrogant, prideful and stubborn. He gets his way, no matter what anyone says. So, it’s best for us to follow him and stomach our own pride.”

“This is brave of ye to talk bad about the councillor’s son. Aren’t ye supposed to be his guardian or something?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what my job is. I listen to lord Hervig’s orders and try to fulfil them to my best ability. I guess you can say that I’m his assistant.”

“I heard that they were marienburgers. Silly secessionists that left the empire and governed by greedy fools. I don’t know why yer puttin’ your trust into them. There’s a slight chance that they may have sympathies towards their merchant overlords.” Malt whispered whilst checking if Reinhard was near.

Ernst hid a grimace and gave a rictus smile. “You could be right, but right now they’re working as lord Stanhelm’s councillors to help the colony survive. ‘Not just survive but to prosper as well’ is what lord Hervig always says. He’s guided by that principle. I think Chaos destroying the world will happen before my lord betrays the Empire. That’s why he decided to give you twelve hundred golden marks. To improve the prosperity of this village.” Technically, that’s a lie. It was Reinhard that gave you the gold, but he probably won’t believe it.

“Whatever you say… But he’s a merchant in the end. He can be tempted and ruined by greed. I may not be as posh as you are and probably not as smart, but I can do me numbers! You keep saying that the Hanoschafts gave me village twelve hundred gold but that’s not true. I counted about seven hundred! Where was the remainin’ five hundred! Did you steal it?” He looked at him full of suspicion and looked back towards Reinhard. He snorted and shook his head. “Makes sense. That kid probably doesn’t know how to count his numbers. It wouldn’t surprise me if you took it for yerself and they’re none the wiser.”

The boy perked his ears at the last bit and instantly stopped hopping. He waited for the two to catch up and interrupted the potential explosive rebuke from Ernst. “You’re wrong about that, Herr Malt. Ernst is a trusted advisor to my father and my loyal friend.” He grinned and tilted his head and held out his open-palmed hands as a placating gesture. “The remaining five hundred gold was decided by my father to not be given directly to you. With good reasons too. This deep into the wilderness, it’ll be rare to personally buy some messenger ravens and hiring ravenmasters to take care of them.” He then rubbed his bottom. “And the road leading to this place is pretty bad. Gave me a sore butt.” Ernst snickered at that, but Reinhard kept on speaking. “So, I decided to spend some of that five hundred gold to pave that road. Even a gravelled road is better than a muddy road. It’s quite important so your goods can travel faster from here to New Altdorf. Maybe, facilitate trade and this little village of yours can be quite busy in a few years. Of course, you can’t do this without connections to the Hanoschafts…”

“So, your father is requesting that he be given some control in my village.” Malt interrupted him and gulped. Cold sweat started to run down his cheeks and he unconsciously wiped it.

“Don’t be too pessimistic, Herr Malt. My father simply wants what’s best to the village. A prosperous Maltdorf is a prosperous colony, after all. In return for you generously giving our family the right to distribute and harvest the bitterbeans, my father will charter this village as a town and give you an official position as the town’s mayor. Isn’t that exciting! You’re going to be the second imperial mayor of the New World.”

“I get to be a mayor?” The ageing man said with some awe but quickly realised the caveat. “And your family gets to keep the orchards and the lands to grown ‘em.”

“Of course. We trust that once you become a mayor, you’ll treasure your friendship with us.” Reinhard twiddled his fingers and looked to the sky. “One way to do that is lowering the tariffs and taxes associating to the bitterbeans. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

“I-I… I’m not sure… I think I’ll consult my- my… Finance guy.”

“It’s perfectly fine to be reluctant at first, Herr Malt. But surely you can read, right? Of course, you’re literate otherwise you won’t be able to read my letters.” The boy tip toed over the rocks and playfully jumped to avoid a puddle.

“Yes… Yes, I can read…” He gulped again, not liking where this conversation his heading.

Ernst rolled his eyes as he stared at the boy sprinting towards the trees. “We should probably catch up to him, Herr Malt. He doesn’t like to wait.” He gave a pat on his shoulders and gently pushed him on a jog. “You’ll get used to him. But I do hope that you’ve read the contract he’s given you and kept a copy for yourself.”

“Of… Of course, I kept the contract. That’s the fancy lookin’ non paper thing that I signed in front of those outriders a few weeks ago, right?”

“Yes. That one. You’ve read it?” It’s quite obvious that he didn’t. Judging by his expressions. I don’t know what’s worse, given an unfair deal or being outsmarted by someone who can be your grandson.

Malt grimly nodded at that and walked sullenly towards the hyper kid. “I can read, Reinhard. And I read the contract that your father sent me, and I signed it.”

“Forget about those boring things! I already knew that you signed it. Pappa said. Otherwise, I won’t be here. Everything there has already been agreed upon and is set in stone. So, let’s talk about more exciting things. Like trees! Very exciting.” He clapped his hands and pointed towards the short but stout trees. “Those cacaos look ripe. I think we can harvest them soon.”

“Cacaos?” Malt muttered beneath his breath but was heard by Ernst.

“He likes to make up new words. I assume ‘cacaos’ are meant to be bitterbeans.”

Reinhard then frowned and started to hum. “This… This doesn’t even look like an orchard. The trees look disorderly and not in neat rows.”

“W-what do you propose ye little shi – Reinhard?” Malt barely contained his anger.

“It looks like the farmers planted the saplings without little care. They should’ve planted it in an orderly manner where the trees actually have some room to breathe.” The boy pointed at a bitterbean tree surrounded by taller trees. “Look at that! That’s why you should plant them with a clear distance between each other and not pack them up so close. The main reason why that hasn’t grown as much as its neighbours is because its being outcompeted by other trees. Eventually, the other ones would grow and shadow the shorter ones which blocks them from sunlight. That’s double whammy for the shorter trees. They didn’t stand a chance.”

“What are ye talkin’ about?”

“To summarise, trees like any other plant organisms compete with each other. They compete for land. We need to stop that competition by giving each sapling a chance to grow equally. So, they all equally grow and be much bigger! We can do that by planting them with a reasonable distance between them. Make sense?” He said the last bit with brusqueness and with a hint of impatience.

“Y-yes… Whatever ye say kid. I’m just a retired adventurer that’s goin’ to be a mayor soon.”

“Good. Ernst make sure to note that down and tell the farmers to do what I said. Now… Pappa instructed me to go over the contract with you. Hopefully, you have a copy?”

“Yes, I do. We can go over it now.” He led them towards his manor and ignored the boy’s incessant ramblings about the heat, and complaints of why he built his house on top of a hill. Malt stopped and looked at the kid and was disappointed that he wasn’t flat in the ground, busy panting for air. “Yer quite resilient kid. Going up the hill is not so easy.”

“Well, of course! My father likes to spar with me every day and makes me a swing a sword a couple of a hundred times a day. He trains my footwork too. I think I’m quite decent with the sword now. Much more than the other kids similar to my age.”

“Herr Malt, please the sun is going down. The lord Treasurer expects us to come home by tomorrow. We need to do what we’ve been asked. The contract…” Ernst said and gave Reinhard a tiny push which made the boy grumble a bit and stuck his tongue out towards him. “Not now, Rein. You know how your father can be a bit prickly in terms of punctuality.” He said and was amused to see Reinhard paling a bit.

“You’re right. Pappa shouldn’t make an eight-year-old run a dozen laps across the manor… It’s not good for their development. For my development.” The boy flexed his biceps.

“Shouldn’t have been late then. Why do you keep being late when you know of the consequences?” Ernst said and panted once they came into Malt’s manor. A wave of heat made him buckle his knees and he struggled to stand up. “Why is your house so hot?!”

Malt boisterously cackled. “This house was made to be a fortress. A future castle! Unfortunately, adding more windows to me house just made it more vulnerable. I also made the walls thicker. Just in case of lizardmen shenanigans.”

“So, you made it into a furnace. Lovely. Let’s do the negotiations outside.” Reinhard pumped his shirt and waved his hands for air.

“No. I’ve got windows up in my office. Please, come and follow me. A little bit of heat won’t kill ya.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Giovanni, my friend! Nice to see you here. Please have a seat. Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got watered down ale and some tea. Cathayan tea.”

“You are too kind, Lord Hanoschaft. Please… If you don’t mind, can I have some green tea?”

“We’ve known each other for too long. Just call me Hervig.” He grabbed the porcelain teapot and poured Giovanni a cup of green tea. “Apparently, it helps you sooth your mind when drinking it.”

The tilean looked at his cup with barely hidden awe. “This is quite impressive lord- Hervig. Very impressive Hervig. Last time I drank this tea was when I was back in Miragliano.”

“It’s because of your help, and the merchants you’re connected to, has helped this place flourish. For that, I thank you. Traders all around the world come to this place now. Though they’re quite rare…”

“Nonsense. It’s because of your lax policies that made this place truly transform from a pitch of tents to a stone walled city. Actually… I’m quite impressed. You seem to be quite enlightened for an imperial.” He sipped his tea and slid further back in his chair. “This hits the good stuff; I can tell you.”

“Being ‘enlightened’ just comes with the job. Want to be a centre of trade in the New World? Lower the tariffs. Lower the taxes if possible. Use the carrot to attract merchants to your city and avoid using the stick. Learnt that lesson back in Marienburg from my father. Though…” Hervig tapped his fingers on the table and stood up and went to his personal bookshelf and grabbed the book titled ‘History of Tilea’. “In fact, I actually haven’t heard of this term ‘enlightenment’ before until my son picked this book up and started reading. My little boy was most pleased when he read it. After that, he would ramble about liberty, democracy and civil justice. ‘Democracy’… Such an alien term. Surely, back in Miragliano you don’t allow ‘everyone’ to vote…” Incredulity caused him to slur his speech in the end.

Giovanni spluttered in laughter at that and nearly spilled his tea. Calming down for a few minutes, he struggled to breathe. “Miragliano is a republic. Technically anyone can vote… But you need to be rich and powerful. The elite of the elite. Those elite get to vote with real meaning. Usually the families of the elites would alternately vote for each other to prevent meaningless bloodshed and strife. Gods knows that Tilea is already disunited and chaotic. We don’t need disunity within our republic if we can help it.”

“Now, that’s interesting… So, those are your version of nobility?”

“Oh, heavens no. They’re just wealthy enough to have influence. Take away that wealth and you take away their influence. Nobility is not governed by birth right but by the family’s competence and merits. Only competence and merit makes families wealthy. And through that wealth, comes power.”

“Interesting,” Hervig couldn’t help shuddering. “Your government is quite similar to the Directorate back in Marienburg…” He coughed and leaned back in his chair. “Anyways… You may be wondering why I invited you here. Not in my manor but in my office in the Governor’s Palace. You must’ve already guessed it, but I invited you here to fulfil my duty.”

Giovanni nodded at him. “What must that duty be, Hervig? I’m just a mere merchant…”

“You heard about the ogre attack in Nahrstadt?” He paused to let the tilean nod for confirmation. “And the coastal watchtowers? … Good. I’ve been ordered by the Lord Governor, to extend those watchtowers across the whole of the Scorpion’s coast.”

“Very… Very ambitious.”

“Indeed, it is. Lord Stanhelm is determined to keep his citizens safe and other law-abiding humans residing within our colony.”

“You need my money?” The tilean fidgeted and crossed his arms. “I’m not made of money, you know…”

“I know you aren’t. That’s why I’m asking for a loan.”

Looking sceptical, Giovanni shifted in his seat. “A loan?”

“That’s right.”

“Look… As much as you’re a good friend to me, Hervig. I can’t accept a loan. It’s too risky. The Governorship may not pay it in time because of Lord Stanhelm’s mandate. At best, the Governor would pay a bit of the loan within the seven years he’s in power. But… I have no guarantee he will…”

“Then, how about a loan from the Hanoschaft?” Hervig straightened his face and looked on listlessly.

“From your family? Maybe… Maybe that I can accept. You’ve proven to be honourable and reliable.” Nice try with the flattery. You should know by now that I’m a different breed of imperial nobles. But it doesn’t hurt to act being flattered.

“I’m thankful for your faith in me and my abilities. The Hanoschaft wouldn’t have risen to prominence without the help of Lord Stanhelm. I owe too much to him. This is the least I can do to help him out. To help him is to help the people, after all.”

“A noble commitment, Hervig. But I don’t want to be rude… But my merchant company is not exactly a charity… My goal is to profit – “

“And mine is to protect the people. You’ve lived here in New Altdorf for nearly eight years now. You have a thriving shop and a warehouse built in this city. Surely, you’ve now considered yourself a citizen of this colony. And it’s the role of government to protect its citizens. Including you and your company… Tell me, how many of your ships gets plundered along the Scorpion’s coast?”

“A fair bit, my lord. The pirates are at least kind enough not to steal everything. In fact, they don’t even need to steal. I’ve given the crews explicit orders to comply to their ‘tolls’.”

“Horrible. Disgusting lawless brigands. They shall all be brought to justice. But for now, they’re running rampant across the coast and costing our merchants hundreds of golden marks. Imagine how much you can save when you don’t have to pay the tolls. When, every now and again, your merchant ships run into a patrolling imperial squadron. I can assure you that the good admiral is not a crook. He’s a man of honour and would not force honest merchants to cough up their own, hard-won money.” A bit convoluted. I could’ve just said that ‘your loan would protect your ships’… But sometimes ambiguity is better. Even for me, it’s hard to specifically order someone that you’re not supposed to command, to ‘protect these specific ships.’ Hopefully, Giovanni would accept. His ships may not be a target of protection of the fleet, but I can reduce the risk of his ships being plundered.

“That sounds like a good deal, my lord. May my gold make the coast safer. Not just for my merchants but for all people. Now, we need to negotiate the amount of gold I have to lend… And the interest.”

Hervig serenely smiled at him and nodded and pulled out a ledger underneath his table. He successfully stopped himself from grinning suspiciously. He read the ledger with an unemotional face. “According to this, I would need twenty-thousand golden marks to extend the coast watchtowers…” The Treasurer then read something out of view from Giovanni. Former merchant prince… I’m sure you can pay for this.

The tilean stood up in shock and slammed his hands on the table. “What!? That much?”

“That’s right… Now, the interest?” Time for the carrot to lure him in.

Huffing a breath of indignation, Giovanni sat back down. “Hervig, I’m honoured that you think I can afford this but… I can’t afford it.”

Hervig clicked his tongue and started to tap his shoes in an audibly pleasing manner. Looks like the carrot is not enough. Time for the stick. “I have the most confidence that you can afford it, Giovanni. After all… Aren’t you a son of that famous prince? I think his name is Borgio. Borgio the Besieger. Prince of Miragliano.”

“H-how?!”

“Probably should’ve hid that cannonball a bit better. What’s that called again? The ‘Mace of Might’? A bit too heavy to use a cannonball as a mace. Don’t you think?”

Shocked and bewildered, the tilean covered his mouth and murmured. “I-I was just a bastard son… I shouldn’t be alive. Technically, I was killed by that bitch. Lucrezzia Belladona…” He curled his fist and trembled.

“The interest would be set annually at two and a half percent.” Hervig quickly said which caught Giovanni off guard. It’s always good to start negotiations when your opponent is not in the right mind. I should’ve just offered him ‘watered down’ wine instead of spilling his secret.

The shaken man looked to his left and right and towards the exit. His identity has now been blown. Once a bastard and a forgotten son who seemingly got killed by his stepmother’s sister. Panic and fear swelled inside him and he considered taking his dagger out and killing him, right there and then. “I-I… What choice do I have?”

“Accepting the interest rate. I promise on my honour and the Hanoschaft name and reputation that I will pay it back. With two and half percent annual interest. I’m rather generous to my friends. Don’t you think?”

“My-my identity- “

“Worry not my good friend. Your anonymity is safe here.” Hervig instantly reassured him and pulled out the prewritten contract. “Thanks for doing this, Giovanni. It really helps a lot. Your money would be spent to good uses.”

Dejected and defeated, the former merchant prince picked up the quill and started to sign his name on the document. “I-I must say… Hervig. You would be terrifying as an enemy.”

“Now that’s the type of flattery that I accept!” He stood up and clasped Giovanni’s hands. “Fortunately for you, we’re friends!” Then he escorted him out of his office. “You came here by foot. You want a horse or a carriage to take you back home?”

“Just… Just a horse. I feel like hunting today.”

Hervig watched him galloping off and sat contently back into his seat and looked towards his ledgers. “That’s the twelfth and final meeting done. Managed to raise over forty thousand golden marks… Now… I certainly have enough money to extend the coastline… Maybe, I can use the remaining money to fund my Rein’s pet projects… The rifling company. He seems to be quite passionate about that and to increase the range of handguns would instantly make it profitable!” Hervig enthusiastically got up and went towards the forging district. “I’ve done it father… I’ve done something that you haven’t. Made the Hanoschaft family great.” He whispered beneath his breath.