Valkyrie's Shadow

Winter's Crown: Act 3, Chapter 17

Winter's Crown: Act 3, Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Ludmila picked up their pace, and they approached the farming village amidst the height of its harvest activities. All along the road, they passed carts waiting to be filled with the sheaves of oats that had been bundled after being cut and left to dry. Undead beasts drew their loads into the warehouse section of the village to be processed. Beside her, Isabella eyed the looming walls before them.

“When people say ‘village’,” she said, “they usually don’t think of whatever it is you’ve built here. I thought you’d be dumping us in some rural hamlet, safely away from everyone else, but this is more like a heavily fortified town. I haven’t seen anything like this since I was a little girl.”

“The buildings inside are much larger than your average cottage,” Ludmila told them, “and the layout of the common area is quite spacious. Half of the village is for storage, but there are only around two hundred people living here right now. There’s enough living space for around two hundred and fifty, so, despite appearances, it would only be considered a large village anywhere else.”

They ascended the village approach, and the paved street opened up to provide a view of the market square after they made their way inside. Large pavilions had been raised, half-occupied by tables as preparations for the harvest celebrations were made. A number of the storefronts and main buildings, such as the temple and smithy, were still vacant, but the village still gave off the overall feel of being busy.

At the edge of the market square, Ludmila turned to address Moren.

“Thank you for taking the time out of this busy season to welcome your associates, Mr Boer,” she said.

“Ah, it’s no problem, my lady,” he bobbed his head. “We’re well on schedule, so a few hours away doesn’t hurt much.”

“Will you be joining us for our discussion in the workshop?”

“Hmm…that’ll probably take a lot longer, and I shouldn’t be away from the job for too long. Thank you for the offer though.”

Moren removed his cap and bowed slightly before heading off towards his home.

“I’ll never figure out why that guy favoured farming in the end,” Isabella told Ludmila after he disappeared into a side lane. “He picked up magic pretty quick, too.”

“Some things just have a way of working out in the greater scheme of things,” Ludmila said musingly. “If he had not done so, he would not have ended up here to introduce you and your associates.”

“Meh. I don’t much like the idea that I’m just a pawn moving around for the sake of some bigger plan.”

Ludmila supposed that someone who was trying to permanently escape death’s clutches would feel that way. She led the pair into the entrance of the Lichtower, where there were two women seated along a row of chairs in the lobby, awaiting service. Another was speaking to the Elder Lich at the desk. Isabella turned to join the queue as well. Ludmila grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

“T-that one works here, right…right?” She asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Yes, but you are not to interfere with the work of my administrative staff,” Ludmila told her. “If there is one way to get on their bad side, it would be by interfering with their duties.”

They went up the spiral stairs running up the inside of the tower to the second floor, and she paused in front of the door.

“Your workspace is the northern wing of the second floor,” she told the two mages, “while your office and residences are on the third, right above them. The southern wing of this floor is reserved for the village archives – it shouldn’t require saying, but entry is prohibited to all but security and administrative staff.”

Ludmila directed the Death Knight to drop off their luggage above before heading into the corridor. The smell of fresh pine from the timber frames of the building still suffused the air, and the light from the window at the end of the corridor reflected off of the polished, granite floors. She withdrew a key from her bag and unlocked the door to the north wing.

The interior was bare of furnishings or any equipment that might be required, giving the space a cavernous feeling. The wing itself was twenty metres wide and twice as long, with tall, iron-barred windows spaced all along the walls. Isabella and Chandler followed her inside, pulling their cowls back. They slowly paced about, looking around with wide eyes.

“A-all of this is for us?” Isabella’s voice echoed off of the stone.

“It is.”

“This would cost a fortune in the city,” Isabella returned from wandering around. “Why? Why are you giving us this much?”

“The Lichtower was originally designed this way,” Ludmila told her. “The wings were intended to house future government facilities, and a workshop for your craft happened to become one of them. Besides, this isn’t the city: I have a lot of space and little in the way of industry at the moment.”

“Then…what is it that you have in mind for us, my lady?”

Were it a month previous, her heart would have wavered over what she would tell them next. With her continuing studies on the matter, however, she was able to firmly settle herself on the direction that she wished to take. The solidifying sense of what revenues the harvest would bring in made her realize that it would most likely be her best – and possibly only – window of opportunity to do so.

“A handful of things,” Ludmila said. “The first has to do with the proposal that you and your associates made before coming here. Everything in this demesne is mundane, and I intend to change that. These village workshops will produce magic items primarily for civilian use: from lighting to storage to all manner of conveniences that you might find in a cosmopolitan city. Once you’ve fulfilled local demand, you will produce exports for the harbour and the river trade.”

“What about equipment and materials?” Isabella crossed her arms, and her eyes turned sharp, “Enchanting doesn’t just require the enchanter. Also, we most likely don’t have the spells for everything that the people might want to use.”

“I thought it best to wait for your arrival before ordering anything in – my knowledge of enchanting is essentially nonexistent, so your consultation would be much appreciated. If any costs accompany what you require to learn spells for enchanting, I will finance them as well.”

“So this workshop isn’t a private business?” Isabella turned to look around again.

“Correct,” Ludmila nodded. “Rather than a private business holding tenancy, you and any of your associates who come to work here will be employees of an industry fully owned by House Zahradnik. Your accounting will be submitted to the Elder Lich here, to be delivered to me.”

“The living space above is provided by you, as well?”

“Medical treatment, too – though it’s limited to tinctures and potions until some priests move in…unless you don’t mind healing from Demihuman mystics.”

“Will we receive a wage in addition to what you’re providing?”

“Of course,” Ludmila said. “The current schedule of wages is based on what sort of work you are doing, and the mana costs associated with your tasks. It is something of an experimental concept at the moment, but it should be competitive to what you would earn in other nations once everything else is factored in.”

“Then how about research costs?” Isabella asked, “This sort of thing is usually a side job for us…”

“If you can justify its applications,” Ludmila answered, “I’ll be more than happy to consider it. Anything else will be out of your own pocket, and on your own time. You are free to pursue what you wish, as long as it does not run afoul of the law.”

“I see…you said that there were a handful of things?”

“There are two more, major responsibilities that will be a part of your job, yes. Standardized education is being introduced to my demesne. Reading, writing and simple mathematics will be taught by someone else, but I am also including basic familiarity with magic and the control of the Undead summons used as labour, which the employees of this workshop will be responsible for.”

“Wait a minute – you want us to teach classes? When Moren mentioned it, I thought he was referring to Apprentices.”

“That would be the next part,” Ludmila told her. “Out of the classes you instruct, those with an aptitude for magic that express an interest in formal studies will be taken as Apprentices. The first few groups might be a bit large but, ideally, each employee of the workshop will have two or three apprentices at any given time. With four employees per village workshop, it should come out to about twenty per cent of every generation being educated as an Apprentice. Once the Temples start being staffed, religious education will be included as well, and another ten per cent of each class at the minimum will be trained as Acolytes.”

Isabella crossed her arms as Ludmila spoke and, by the end, she was staring up at the ceiling.

“I know we made a case for a more favourable distribution of magic casters,” she said after looking back down, “but I don’t think anyone actually believed that it could happen. So around one in three of your subjects will be a magic caster of some sort, and everyone will be familiar with magic in general.”

“I thought that part of your proposal was particularly important,” Ludmila said. “We are the Sorcerous Kingdom, after all – having our population illiterate and ignorant of magic wouldn’t really reflect that very well. Unlike the well-developed portions of this duchy, my demesne has a small population where such a change in demographics can be handily achieved at an affordable cost.”

“I suppose that makes sense. I’m not sure if the numbers will work out as nicely as you want, but these Apprentices are to receive a general magic education?”

“Yes – it will be your responsibility to show them the world that magic offers, after which they will decide on the course they will pursue. In the future, we might be able to have specialized instructors for the role, but you and your associates are all we have for the time being. I’m putting a great deal of trust in you.”

Isabella pursed her lips in thought, and Ludmila quietly awaited her response. She roughly knew what she wanted to achieve in terms of the overall direction of her fief, but local information was nonexistent when it came to this sort of magical education. According to the materials from the Magician Guild, apprenticeships for mages were either funded by the Apprentice – who would pursue their studies at their own pace – or done on the job, where the Apprentice’s general vocation would already be decided.

The process was informal and not standardized in any overarching way: in practical terms, it was no different than how a tailor, blacksmith or woodsman treated their own apprentices. Like these other industries, apprenticeships were also dependent on the demands of the market. Ludmila could not rely on these reactive behaviours to provide what she required, else she would be constantly behind her forecasted needs.

“I feel like all of our research time just disappeared,” Isabella mumbled.

“How did you operate before coming here?” Ludmila was curious.

“Well, like I said, creating magic items was a side job. I’d do as much as I needed to pay for everything, then all of my time went into research.”

“Does your research require mana?”

“Only when testing out theories and collecting data, I guess.”

“Then how long does it take to enchant something?”

“It’s mostly waiting for mana and shipments of materials to come in, but enchanting has its own research as well – especially if you want us to be doing all that you’ve outlined.”

“What about your apprentices?”

“Um…what about them?”

“They can’t help in some way?”

“Maybe with organizing reagents to be prepared and some menial chores around the workshop,” Isabella explained, “but enchanting isn’t like some sort of production line. People can’t just drop in and help you carry stuff or work on bits and pieces to put together like some kinda physical labour. It’s the Enchanter that does the actual enchanting from start to finish. Apprentices will be able to start making their own magic items once they learn First Tier spells, but the rates of advancement are dependent on each Apprentice. Ultimately, however, you’re going to have a glut of First and Second Tier mages – so this rate for mana usage you’re planning on will have to factor in the Tier of magic being used.”

“I see…you’ll have to pardon my ignorance on the matter. What I’ve had to go on is fairly limited; the materials from the Magician Guild suggested as much, but I was hoping that methods might differ from place to place.”

“They might be by a bit,” Isabella told her, “but most of the difference in the production of magical items would come from the demands of the local markets. Broadly speaking, commonly seen utility goods such as lighting, long-term storage or water sources will be produced everywhere, using the same methods.”

Ludmila looked around the empty wing, pondering over what she had learned. The conduct of the Zurrernorn members wasn’t as bad as she had feared it would be so far – she had pictured them as some sort of rebellious, subversive group that would have to be wrangled into compliance from the start. Isabella was a bit outspoken and lacking in proper protocol, but appeared to be mostly accommodating of the ideas that she presented. Ludmila’s gaze rested on Chandler, who had been silent throughout the discussion.

“Is there a reason why you haven’t said anything this entire time, Chandler?” She asked him, “Surely you must have something to share.”

His thin lips worked silently, but he ultimately said nothing in reply. He looked down at the stone floor, sandy hair falling forward to cover his olive eyes.

“He was pretty chatty until we arrived at the harbour,” Isabella told her. “We met up at the Re-Estize border and he was pretty excited over everything. Hmm…he’s probably smitten by you? Maybe you’re just his ty–”

Chandler’s head snapped back up again, and he glared daggers at her.

“That, uh…that was just a joke, but I guess you have your reason now?” Isabella laughed weakly, “Well, don’t mind him too much – you just project a certain image that’s bound to be popular with men and women alike.”

“Maybe I should speak to my lady’s maid about that…”

“Why?” Isabella raised an eyebrow, “There’s nothing wrong with it. If anything, you should be using it to your advantage.”

Her stance reminded Ludmila of Liane, who would often offer similar commentary in regards to Florine’s appearance. Ludmila didn’t have the younger noblewoman’s generous figure, however, so Isabella’s statement felt more a barb.

“I am starting to think that merchants commonly see things along those lines.”

“Of course!” Isabella grinned, “If it sells, it sells, right?”

“What am I ‘selling’, exactly?”

“Hmm…that whole noble lady knight kinda deal. You got it down pretty good – I bet people stare at you wherever you go. It’s a strong strategy: pretty rare too since it’s usually men running things in the countries around here.”

“It is not a ‘strategy’ that I’m going out of my way to employ,” Ludmila stated. “I’d rather be recognized through my work as an administrator.”

“Why not both?” Isabella raised her hands and shrugged, “No merchant ever goes ‘oh no, I have a good quality product, gotta make sure it has a poor image’. If something has a good image, a good reputation and good quality, that just drives its value up in the eyes of your clientele.”

“I am not some sort of product.”

“You might not see it that way, my lady, but that’s just how it works. It’s strange, really: you’ve been tossing all these nice proposals out, and even the feel of your demesne gives that same, strong impression. Yet, for all that you’re doing here, you’re not pushing for all of the gains you can get. A noble’d normally exploit your advantage for all it’s worth – prestige and influence and all that.”

Ludmila frowned, dissatisfaction rising in her throat. She didn’t think her family had ever cared for such things. Being considered a trustworthy and reliable house was good enough, and taking advantage of their reputation felt like it would cheapen it.

“Everything being done to develop my demesne is not driven by that sort of self-centred motivation,” she told Isabella. “I am ensuring that my demesne and its people thrive and that His Majesty’s mandates are carried out. They are duties to land and liege that I carry out willingly as a noble of the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“No kidding?” Isabella arched an eyebrow, “Well, if it’s all-natural, then you don’t have to worry about keeping up an act. A few ‘enhancements’ to your image and more than a few people will be flinging themselves on the street in front of you, praying that you’ll step on ‘em.”

Ludmila fought to keep the appalled expression off of her face – and the urge to shake the woman violently.

“We have digressed quite a bit here,” she cleared her throat and looked between them. “Were there any questions about what we went over?”

“We’ll have to figure out how to do the teaching bit. As for everything else…you sound pretty open-handed, but I’m sure there are budgetary restrictions?”

“The instructors coming in have been specially trained by someone in the capital,” Ludmila told her. “If you get together with them, you should be able to come up with something. As for the budget…you are correct: I do not have unlimited resources, but I do have plenty on hand. Any mundane furnishings can be produced locally – that includes anything you or your apprentices might need for the dormitory upstairs. Structural changes to the wing can be accomplished through the same means.”

Ludmila scanned the empty room, trying to imagine what it would eventually contain. There were diagrams and descriptions in her reference materials, of course, but she had no idea what went where, how they were operated, or how crucial anything was.

“I am uncertain if there are any specially crafted tools that need to be imported,” she said, “but we can go through that after you put together a list of everything that you think you need. As for future research, I will have to weigh the benefits of each proposal and decide which ones should be prioritized. Not only will material resources be limited, but we will not have so many magic casters available that we can pursue every avenue at once.”

“I see,” Isabella turned around to look across the empty workshop once more. “I was wondering what you wanted with so many magic casters…could it be that you’re trying to turn this fief into a centre for magic?”

“It is one of several things I have planned,” Ludmila smiled slightly at her conclusion. “Re-Estize is absent of any national institutions when it comes to arcane magic, so this duchy has inherited the same problem. As you can imagine, the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Undead do not have much of a need for most of the magical items that this workshop will be turning out, but its living citizens would certainly appreciate them. This being the case, I thought it would be a good place to start.”

Isabella turned back to her again, face an unreadable mask. Ludmila wasn’t sure why she was suddenly concealing her reaction: she thought that it was exactly what they asked for.

“Like other nations with valuable institutions,” Ludmila pressed on, “the Sorcerous Kingdom has strict laws and regulations regarding the protection and development of its assets. Warden’s Vale is not too distant from the capital, but it is also isolated by nature, making movement easy to regulate. It will be an ideal location to raise an institute for magic once the appropriate security measures are made. The creation of magical items will be but one branch of what I intend; the knowledge and expertise that you and your associates bring will be welcome as well.”

Isabella and Chandler silently exchanged glances after she finished speaking.

“Was there something disagreeable in my proposal?” Ludmila couldn’t help but ask.

“No,” Isabella answered quickly. “Not on a broad level, anyways. The specific details will obviously need to be hammered out over time, but things have turned out to be the opposite of what we initially expected.”

“What were you expecting, exactly?”

“Considering that you were one, a noble of Re-Estize, basically. The majority of them are ignorant and dismissive of magic and magic casters. That’s why we ended up trying to sell you on the idea of magic items being necessary for a growing demesne: to appeal to a noble’s more…practical perspective. Instead, what we found was a…a…”

“A home,” Chandler’s eyes shone. “A place where our work is validated instead of shunned; where we can walk proudly in a place where all of the arcane arts can grow and thrive. You are a visionary, my lady: mages from around the world will flock to your banner.”

Isabella frowned over at him and waved a hand experimentally in front of his face. His sparkly-eyed look remained unchanged.

“I’m not as much of a sap as this guy here,” Isabella gave Ludmila a lopsided smile, “but he has the gist of it. If you’re building what I think you’re building, you’ll have a lot of mages coming your way eventually…as long as you stop trying to suppress the image that comes with you and your fief.”

The last line was delivered with a mischievous wink, and Ludmila cringed inside.

“It is my hope that mages will be drawn by what we build here,” Ludmila said. “But it is something that will be long in the making, and one of many projects that will take generations to establish. I just need to carry it as far as I can in the time that I have.”

“Or you could ask your liege to turn you into a Vampire, then you can just oversee the entire thing yourself.”

Ludmila wanted to sigh. Why couldn’t people be satisfied with a natural lifespan? Given Isabella’s strong feelings on the matter of lichdom, debating the idea with her seemed utterly futile.

“If it is Lord Surshana’s will,” Ludmila told her, “then it is what it is.”