The Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Part III: Act 4, Chapter 7

The Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Part III: Act 4, Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After seeing Mister Moro off, Neia made sure the ranchers who had arrived fresh from Hacienda Santiago were aware of their responsibilities as they escorted supplies from the port back to their home. News of the conscription order had by then become widespread, casting a pall over the whole town as families wondered whose loved ones would be sent to the Great Wall.

And, inevitably, the question that she feared would be asked finally arose.

“Is it right for us to be sent to war when we just finished fighting one a few months ago?” Mister Pérez asked that same evening, “You can still see signs of the devastation left behind everywhere.”

Neia sat stiffly in her seat at one of the tables in Bast’s lone tavern. Several of the families had invited her out for dinner, so she thought it would be a good opportunity to mingle with fellow followers of the Sorcerer King.

“I heard about it today just like everyone else,” she said, “but we didn’t get any details about it.”

“So you’re saying it depends?”

“Of course! If we’re being invaded again I don’t think the invaders would care very much about whether we think it’s fair or not. We don’t possess the supreme might of His Majesty the Sorcerer King, so we should marshal our strength as Humans to face them.”

Once Jaldabaoth and his strongest subordinates were out of the way, it was actually pretty easy for the combined forces of the Holy Kingdom to get rid of the remaining Demihuman invaders. Even if the Great Wall had a giant hole in it, mobilisation was still the best recourse for national defence and everyone probably understood that.

“If anything,” she continued, “it’s an opportunity to once again show everyone that the Sorcerer King’s wisdom is undoubtedly correct! The Corps did far better than everyone else during the war and now we’re even better prepared to deal with threats to our homes.”

“What if there isn’t a threat?” Mister Pérez asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Say the Royal Army’s expedition isn’t going so well. What if they’re conscripting soldiers to help with the conquest of the frontier?”

She had to admit it was a strong possibility. According to her father, the Royal Army never did well in the wilderness so Neia never thought that the Renclusa Valley Campaign would go as well as the Royal Court wanted to believe. Conversely, the need for more soldiers could also mean that they were doing well and needed more infantry to maintain the security of the new lands.

“If they’re conscripting soldiers to prolong an offensive war,” Neia said, “then they would have to give a suitable justification for it. I don’t think the Royal Court would do anything unreasonable...”

It was probably a small comfort to those families whose loved ones were chosen to serve in the Royal Army, but conscription was also an everyday possibility for the people of the Holy Kingdom. She was honestly more worried about those left behind, as soldiers in the army were at least provided for by the Crown while those hammered into weakness and despair by royalist policies were left to starve in the streets.

Another family entered the tavern, joining Neia and the others at their table. As with the others, their expressions were a mix of elation at being able to get together with her and worry over recent developments. Neia sipped quietly on her ale after greeting them, trying to figure out how to break up the tentative atmosphere.

“Mister Moro said you’d be visiting the villages around the town,” one of the newcomers, a tall man by the name of Ander Ruiz said.

“Ah, yes, I thought it’d be best to start small,” Neia looked up from her drink. “Is there anything I should know about the area?”

“It’s nothing too special, I think,” Mister Ruiz said. “Though it might be hard getting to some places. How did you plan on getting around, Miss Baraja?”

“I didn’t have anything fancy planned,” Neia replied. “Just a wagon to carry provisions for myself and everyone travelling with me. I’m actually worried that my timing might be bad with the harvest coming and everything else.”

“That might be true for the farms, but there are fishing and timber villages out there that keep the same schedule year-round. Could always visit the towns, too – maybe even Lloyds.”

“Would that be safe?”

The men and women around the table frowned at her question.

“What do you mean by that, Miss Baraja?” Mister Ruiz asked.

“It’s...it’s just something I’ve noticed with how people behave under royalist policies,” Neia answered, “that includes the royalists themselves. People seem to lose sight of who they are; they become obsessed with certain things and their entire lives start to revolve around them. It’s pretty scary, to be honest. When I was still living in Hoburns, I never even realised I was getting like that.”

“...are they being possessed by Demons?”

“Uh, probably not, but it’s really unsettling. Because of that, I’m the most worried about our people in the east. It’s something that slowly happens, so I’d like to do something about it while I can.”

One of the tavern’s waitresses came by to deliver bowls filled with steaming fish stew. A basket of fresh rolls was placed at the centre of the table. Neia waited while everyone reached out to take their share.

“We haven’t heard of anything like that yet,” Mister Pérez said, “though we haven’t been out of town since the end of the war.”

“I thought the Holy King’s policies were for the good of the country,” Mister Ruiz added. “The gods know they’ve been working out fine with us.”

“The difference is probably in implementation,” Neia said. “The Nobles in the west are doing what they can to fulfil the Royal Court’s policy goals, but they’re also regulating behaviours that we’d normally consider undesirable. Meanwhile, the Nobles in the east are doing everything that they can to pursue those same policy goals, including pushing people into behaviours that they think will achieve the country’s economic objectives faster.”

A few of the people at the table exchanged glances with one another.

“Does that mean that they’re bad?” Mister Ruiz asked.

“It would be easy to say yes,” Neia answered, “but things are probably more complicated than that. The royalists only seem to act aggressively when something gets in their way within their jurisdictions. They themselves may only see their actions as necessary because of what I mentioned just now, but even good intentions may lead to evil outcomes.”

While she couldn’t forgive the royalists for doing what they did to Mister Lousa and his people, the conservatives asserted that nothing even remotely similar had happened between themselves and their rivals. If anything, things were strictly cordial and everyone respected one another’s space.

Duke Debonei speculated that the nature of Mister Lousa’s territory, with its frontier-like status, had set the stage for the incident. Los Ganaderos were little more than ‘super tenants’ and the royalists who dealt with them perceived their relationship as one of mutual obligation. Mister Lousa thought that dealing with both factions equally would demonstrate his intent to remain neutral in their conflict, but the Nobles saw him as a double-dealing villano instead.

“Shouldn’t the Temples be doing something about those evil outcomes?” Mister Pérez asked, “I can’t imagine them turning a blind eye to it. Why isn’t the Holy Order being dispatched to deal with the problems?”

“Because they’re short-staffed,” Neia answered. “Thousands of Priests and Clerics were killed during the war and the Holy Order only has fifty Paladins left to spread across the north and the south. The Temples always support the Holy King and the royalists explain everything that they’re doing as upholding the Royal Court’s policies. Anything bad that happens is just reported as ‘law enforcement’ or ‘policy-related regulation’ by the royalists’ men and that’s the only thing that the Temples see because they can’t have a presence everywhere anymore.”

“Since you mentioned the Temples,” Mister Ruiz said, “why was all of the north given over to the southern Nobles to manage? At least a third of the land belongs to the Northern Patriarchate, doesn’t it?”

“It was something that the Temples agreed on,” Neia replied. “They recognised that the Nobles would be better suited to managing the north’s economic recovery, plus they had people available. The Holy Kingdom lost two-thirds of its priesthood and ninety per cent of its Paladins, so the Temples are focusing on raising new Acolytes and Squires in the Southern Patriarchate.”

Not only had Kelart Custodio, ‘Patriarch’ of the North and High Priestess of the Temple of the Four Great Gods in the Holy Kingdom of Roble, been killed by Jaldabaoth along with the Holy Queen, but the Northern Patriarchate had also been all but wiped out over the course of the war. Never mind administrative capacity, the Temples as a whole lacked the capacity to meet the basic needs of the people and that had to be addressed before anything else.

“How has everyone been getting along with the Temples here?” Neia asked.

“Normal, I think?” A third man by the name of Nil said, “I just went to get a bad cut healed this morning and nothing seemed off.”

“So they haven’t questioned our practices or anything like that?”

“It’s not as if they’re that weird,” Mister Pérez said. “Everything fits right in along with the drive to rebuild the north. If anything, we’re seen in a decent light since our work improves the little bit of the world around us. Plus, we can pay regular rates for temple services.”

Heads around the table nodded in agreement. Neia wondered how the Temples would feel if she resumed her public speaking. They never liked it when she brought up the topic of the Sorcerer King – mostly because he was Undead – but, as others had already noted, the Sorcerer King’s wisdom was at worst viewed as a beneficial, if quaint, outlook on life that a portion of the Temples’ congregation shared.

With that being the case, would her message meet fewer obstacles if she only shared the Sorcerer King’s wisdom? His feats during the war were surely magnificent, but they grew less and less relevant to the people as they put the past behind them. Of course, there were many who had witnessed them personally who would appreciate the recollections of shared experiences, but there were millions more who didn’t possess those experiences and they were the people that His Majesty’s wisdom had to reach if the Holy Kingdom was to see true justice.

Unsurprisingly, Mister Moro’s proposals made the most sense as far as the growth of her people was concerned. Providing practical examples of how the fruit of the Sorcerer King’s wisdom could be obtained worked better than speaking of physical feats that the average person could never hope to achieve.

“Has anyone spoken to members of the Corps out in the countryside?” Neia asked.

Everyone else at the table looked at Mister Pérez, who took a moment to realise they were expecting him to answer.

“Oh, erm, all sorts of people come in for equipment and repairs and such. Our members, of course, are no exception. What would you like to know, Miss Baraja?”

“Just if they’re having any troubles we can help with.”

“No, thank you,” Neia replied. “We have a long day ahead of us. I just came to address the thing I brought up last night.”

“The thing...ah, you mean that. Very well, what is your proposal?”

“If you and the other administrators in the area want my people to secure the borders of the forest, then we reserve the right to hunt and forage on that land as foresters in the north would. Also, if any problems appear that would otherwise require Adventurers to deal with, a successful takedown will be awarded an amount equivalent to an Adventurer Guild commission of that difficulty.”

“Will there be things that require Adventurers to handle?” Lord Aston frowned.

“My father always said that there’s no such thing as ‘unclaimed territory’,” Neia said. “Everything is something’s territory, whether we acknowledge it or not.”

She hoped she didn’t come off as too demanding. Lord Aston fell silent with a calculating look while Lord Lugo just stared at her. Neia resisted the urge to smooth down her skirts as she awaited Lord Aston’s response.

“Can your men be called upon if threats present themselves elsewhere?” Lord Aston asked, “From the sea, for example.”

“That would depend on the threat,” Neia answered. “We don’t have ships like the Royal Navy does, after all. If something comes ashore that our people are capable of dealing with, we’ll see what we can do.”

“In that case,” Lord Aston said, “So long as they pay taxes as foresters would and accept requests for provisioning by local authorities, I see no problem with it. I’ll draft a contract for review later today.”

“Ah, I’ll be travelling to Lloyds today,” Neia said. “I’ll be back before my men arrive, though.”

“...is that wise?” Lord Lugo said, “The royalists may act against you if they realise who you are.”

“Considering that no one recognised me just now, I think I’ll be safe enough.”

Furthermore, she didn’t think that the royalists would have anyone on hand who could detain both her and Saye if it came down to it, which she hoped it wouldn’t.

On their way out of the manor to the town, they stopped at the meadow below the road that served as a camp for her men. Most had departed to help with supply runs to Hacienda Santiago, leaving two dozen to serve as Neia’s escort if she required it and also as couriers if needed. Carlos’ lieutenant, Gomez, walked out to greet them as they came in.

“Miss Baraja,” he tipped his wide-brimmed hat. “Miss Saye.”

“Bored yet?” Neia asked.

“First set of wagons are about to make their first round trip,” Gomez replied. “We haven’t gotten word about any trouble, so I’d say it hasn’t been too excitin’.”

“I’m praying it stays that way,” Neia said. “I’ve negotiated some extra work for those who are interested.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“They need foresters to patrol the clearances along the slopes to the north.”

“So like patrolling the fringes of the kingswood. Keeping beasts at bay and such.”

Neia nodded.

“It’s a temporary position, but you’ll have forester’s rights – and forester’s taxes – and receive a bonus for taking down things that would normally need Adventurers. The Nobles also want to be able to request provisioning, like deer or boar for feasts while they’re holding court.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Gomez said. “I’m sure plenty of the boys will put some time in. They’ll get to hone their skills and make some coin along the way. How many of us do you want on this patrol?”

“I don’t want to disrupt the hacienda’s operations with this, so maybe it can be something like a hunting trip for people waiting between shipments. The volunteers coming from the west will be staying out there and assuming patrol duties once they get settled, but it sounds like the Nobles want us to patrol the entire treeline.”

“We’ll figure it out along the way, then. Anything else, Miss Baraja?”

“One more thing. Saye and I will be visiting Lloyds while we wait for the volunteers from the Corps to arrive. Can you help get any members that arrive before we get back situated? They can stay with you guys until there are enough for a proper camp of their own.”

“Sure thing. Need your horses?”

“We’re fine,” Saye said. “Walking is faster.”

She breathed a sigh of relief once they made their way back up to the road leading to Bast.

“What was that sigh for?” Saye asked.

“I don’t know,” Neia answered. “I guess I thought I’d have more trouble dealing with all of that.”

“I think you did a good job,” Saye said. “You’re definitely a lot better than when you first started leading the ranchers.”

“Do you think so?”

“Mhm. You’re showing a lot more confidence and you’re not making as many mistakes as before. That exchange with the Nobles just now was really good, by the way.”

Neia looked over her shoulder at the roof of the manor disappearing behind the trees. She couldn’t recall saying anything particularly ingenious.

“...at the risk of sounding stupid, what did I do?”

“You placed any responsibility for your people’s actions along the clearances squarely on Lord Aston’s shoulders. Also, you scared them without resorting to anything that might be considered an open or even veiled threat.”

“How?”

“Isn’t the Holy Order supposed to know Holy Kingdom law?” Saye glanced at her.

“Yes, but I have so many things filling my head right now that I can’t figure out what angle you’re playing with this.”

“Those hills and mountains are crown land, aren’t they?”

Neia’s face screwed up into several different expressions in quick succession.

“Oh.”

It was logic that anyone who lived in a kingdom could follow. Lord Aston and his fellow administrators had been assigned to manage specific fiefs. They were technically acting outside of their jurisdictions by clearing the forests in the hills and mountains along the northern coast. The Crown was probably turning a blind eye to it because everyone desperately needed timber, but that didn’t mean that Lord Aston was allowed to grant rights on crown land.

As Saye asserted, if Neia’s people were charged with poaching or trespassing, responsibility would land squarely on Lord Aston and his fellow Nobles’ shoulders...but while that was true, it probably also wouldn’t happen.

“Then how did I scare them?”

“You marketed your people as if they were Adventurers. Now those guys think that you have thousands of people as strong as Adventurers following you.”

“But most Adventurers aren’t that strong,” Neia said. “Most people in the Holy Kingdom are as strong as a Copper or low Iron-rank Adventurer. Plus, we wouldn’t restrict ourselves to those tiny teams that Adventurers form. If a monster pops up, it’s going to have a company or three of veteran combatants to deal with.”

After the war, she estimated that at least half of the Sorcerer King Rescue Corps’ guard unit was about as strong as a Silver-rank Adventurer. Still, that wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. The Nobles had plenty of Knights and professional armsmen that were about that strong, as well.

“It’s like we discussed before, right?” Saye said, “Nobles put people into ‘boxes’. People are soldiers, Farmers, Blacksmiths, or whatever else the Nobles decide they are. Adventurers are ‘monster hunters’, so you basically told them you have a thousand monster hunters on the way here.”

“...that’s stupid.”

The Bard’s only response was a shrug and a smile.