Chapter 18

Ludmila walked alongside Captain Iškur as they made their way to the harbourmaster’s office, the fog from Ruin’s Wake growing thicker as they went. A Soul Eater appeared with its wagon, trotting slowly through the murk. It was moving at a markedly decreased pace – as Undead, Soul Eaters had Darkvision, but otherwise had comparable eyesight to that of a horse.

“Is it necessary for Ruin’s Wake to conjure a fog wherever she goes?”

“She always has it out when we leave the Katze Plains,” Captain Iškur replied. “Makes things feel more homey and it’s great in a fight.”

“As long as you fly the Sorcerous Kingdom’s emblem,” Ludmila told him, “none of our security forces will attack you. I understand that you may feel uncomfortable in new lands, but at the same time the fog is a navigational hazard.”

“Would keeping it confined to the area around her berth be acceptable while we’re in the harbour?”

“That should be alright,” Ludmila said. “We just don’t want accidents in crowded places because people can’t see where they are going. It may also become a problem when river traffic increases, but we’ll see how things are as development progresses.”

The harbour master’s office was a two-storey stone building occupying the corner of the harbour lane and the road to the village square. Like most of the other construction in Warden’s Vale, it was built to serve a specific purpose rather than to convey any particular image. This gave her demesne a rather utilitarian aesthetic, though Lord Mare said that everything would look fine once the city started incorporating its living elements.

A small doorbell attached to the upper corner of the office door chimed as they made their way inside. Jeeves looked up from his desk.

“Good afternoon, my lady!” His voice was bright, “And you must be Captain Iškur – I’ve heard and read quite a bit about you!”

“Good afternoon, Jeeves,” Ludmila said.

“Hello…” Captain Iškur looked over at Jeeves, “erm, did he do something wrong? Why is he imprisoned?”

Ludmila frowned at the Elder Lich’s question. Maybe things were too utilitarian, after all. Jeeves’ workspace was protected by wrought iron bars out of concerns for his safety, giving it the appearance of a prison cell, albeit a spacious and well-furnished one.

“It is for his protection,” Ludmila explained. “Jeeves occupies an important position, and he is not as sturdy as the other Undead working in my territory.”

Jeeves set down his pen and stepped out from behind his desk. He went over to open the door to his office and stepped out in front of Captain Iškur. One of his Death Knight escorts moved to accompany him. The difference in height might have appeared comical to some, but, to Ludmila, it felt like she was looking at a Goblin standing beside an Ogre.

Captain Iškur leaned forward and examined the diminutive Skeleton Merchant.

“What manner of undead are you?” The Elder Lich asked.

“I am a butler, good captain,” Jeeves answered.

“Huh?”

“He is the harbourmaster,” Ludmila said. “Functionally speaking, Jeeves was born with all of the Skills and Abilities necessary to operate as a unique sort of Merchant.”

“I see,” Captain Iškur said. “I’ve never met a butler before – I’ll keep that in mind.”

Was it alright to leave it at that? Historically, butlers were household retainers responsible for managing a manor’s supplies of liquor and other beverages. Over time, their role evolved into that of a senior position that acted in the capacity of a steward and manager of the household’s staff. A harbourmaster was the officer responsible for managing the security and operations of a harbour district, so it was somewhat similar…except Jeeves didn’t manage security at all.

“It would be a mistake to confuse him for a Human butler,” Ludmila said. “What is relevant to you and Ruin’s Wake is that he is responsible for cargo operations and warehouse inventories. Whenever you would like to charter out any free space in your hold, Jeeves would be the person to see until this city becomes fully operational.”

“Fair enough, my lady,” Captain Iškur said. “So, how does this work?”

Jeeves returned to his desk, producing a sheet of paper and sliding it over the polished granite counter to their side of the bars.

“First of all,” he said, “I would like to confirm that these dimensions provided by the Ministry of Transportation are accurate.”

The Elder Lich took the sheet into his claws. The crimson points of his eyes went back and forth as he read through the content.

“It should be…what happens if it isn’t?”

“Then the cargo we assign to you won’t fit, good captain,” Jeeves said. “We try to utilise every bit of available space, so it is important that everything written here is in order.”

“…do you really have that much to move?”

“Oh yes,” Ludmila smirked. “We have enough to keep you busy for a long time.”

Captain Iškur placed the sheet onto the counter, sliding it back across to Jeeves.

“All I can say is that it matches the measurements taken by the Ministry of Transportation,” the Elder Lich said. “Whether it’s accurate or not would require us going out to measure everything again to confirm.”

Jeeves nodded, filing the document away into a folder and producing another.

“Then this is what we have set aside for your first trip,” he said. “If everything is alright with you, we can start loading – it should take several hours.”

“Several hours?”

“I had the same reaction when we started shipping things regularly,” Ludmila said. “It takes a surprisingly long time to load cargo, but you don’t realise it until the point where it starts taking up large portions of your schedule. There will be thousands of crates, barrels, sacks, lengths of timber and various parcels being squeezed into every bit of available space in your hold. We’re lucky that it only takes two Death Knights at most to move something.”

“In that case,” Captain Iškur said, “we had better begin loading right away.”

The Skeleton Merchant reached out and tapped a bell. Before the sound finished resonating in the air, a Vampire Bride came down from the second-floor office. She retrieved the order and read over it, then turned to address Captain Iškur.

“Please bear with us, Captain Iškur,” she said. “This is our first time working with such a vessel, so it may take longer than usual.”

“Of course, miss,” the Elder Lich said. “Do what you need to do – Ruin’s Wake will let you know if there’s anything wrong.”

After lowering her head politely to Captain Iškur, the Vampire Bride glided out of the office, her alabaster silks trailing in her wake. Ludmila, Captain Iškur, Jeeves and his Death Knight escort went over to Ruin’s Wake’s berth to observe the proceedings. The Beastman Elder Lich read over the manifest as they waited.

“So how are these ‘cargo rates’ determined?” He asked, “Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Just curious.”

“They currently match the land transportation rates charged by merchant companies that employ Soul Eaters within the duchy,” Jeeves told him, “which charges by vehicle. These companies are very stringent when it comes to making the most out of every wagon, as it influences the average cost per kilogram of freight. They’ll even go so far as to rent out free space on a wagon if they haven’t used all of their capacity. Sometimes, things are easier – such as when transporting grain – but it’s usually more akin to a puzzle that cargo crews must solve with every shipment.”

“I wasn’t aware that so much work went into it,” Captain Iškur said. “I hope Miss Marchand knows how to do this because I certainly don’t.”

At the unfamiliar name, Ludmila looked up at the Elder Lich.

“Is she the Merchant that Lady Corelyn arranged for you?”

“Yes, my lady,” Captain Iškur said. “Mirabelle Marchand – a new journeyman from one of House Corelyn’s merchant companies. She’s working in Corelyn Harbour at the moment, but she’ll be joining the crew of Ruin’s Wake as our Purser. It was just a bit strange how excited she was to join us…the Humans we came across in the plains either ran away or tried to fight.”

“I am sure that Lady Corelyn selected her out of those who would be willing to work for you,” Ludmila said. “Though that shouldn’t be too rare – most of the people in the southern territories are already well-accustomed to the presence of the Undead. If anything, I imagine that a posting on board Ruin’s Wake would be an exciting opportunity for many Merchants.”

“The Countess said that, too,” the Elder Lich nodded. “The arrangement is on a seasonal basis right now, but Lady Corelyn said that she’s willing to have her work for me on a more permanent basis if things go well. Something about turning our unique advantages to create a new sort of merchant company.”

It was certainly a unique opportunity. While they worked on what could be done for Captain Iškur and Ruin’s Wake, Clara noted that serving aboard the Ghost Ship was an ideal arrangement for Merchants who wanted to avoid the hassle of managing personnel and all of the issues that working with the living might give rise to. It was ‘pure’ Merchant work: managing inventories and conducting trade at each port of call.

She speculated that, like any form of cargo transport, Ruin’s Wake was better off on the move rather than stopping for extended periods to trade. Once they figured out the flow of goods at each location, stores could be established that the Ghost Ship could deliver inventory to along its route. Each store would be operated by its own merchant and, eventually, they would maximise the efficiency of their trade route.

The Sorcerous Kingdom still had significant issues exporting its goods to other countries, and the myriad of communities in the Great Forest of Tob and other nonhuman habitats represented a huge, untapped and undeveloped market. Florine was already working to connect these communities and create a working economy for them, and Ruin’s Wake was a great boon for her efforts.

“How many trips will you be making between Warden’s Vale and Corelyn Harbour before you begin your overland route, Captain Iškur?”

“Miss Marchand told me that I should keep doing this until we have all of our basics covered,” the Elder Lich replied, counting out several points with his fingers. “First, we have to pay Countess Corelyn back for the scrolls and office supplies. Next, we have to pay for the furnishings we ordered – shelves, cabinets and chests for my cabin, plus the things that she needs for hers. After that, she’ll rent a warehouse in Corelyn Harbour and we’ll keep working while she builds up our inventory. We’ll be leasing out a pair of Death Knights for security and heavy lifting, too. Only after all that’s done will we start our trade route. Her tentative projection for this is a bit over a month, but once we get a few trips in she says she’ll have a more accurate idea.”

Ludmila exchanged looks with Jeeves.

“How long did it take for you to travel from Corelyn Harbour to Warden’s Vale?” Ludmila asked.

“A bit over six hours,” Captain Iškur answered. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be moving a lot slower under full load.”

“Assuming that they can manage four round trips per week,” Jeeves mused, “We should be able to empty a warehouse every month…but we’re going to be left with nothing but bulky cargo after a while. How long until the mill on the dam is completed, my lady?”

“Assembly is mostly finished,” Ludmila said, “but we’re still waiting on runecrafted blades from Lady Wagner.”

The new mill represented the most substantial boon for industrial production in Warden’s Vale. Currently, the vast majority of timber and stone was shipped out in unprocessed form. Once the mill was in operation, they could process raw materials locally, exporting lumber and cut stone. Not only did this increase the value of their shipments, but it was easier to move timber planks and stone blocks than it was to move whole tree trunks and unshaped boulders.

“Hopefully they will arrive soon,” Jeeves said. “The volume of materials coming into our warehouses has increased drastically with work in the Upper Reaches underway.”

The first of the wagons arrived, loaded with crates and bags. Several Death Knights started to unload the cargo, placing it along the berth. The Vampire Bride hopped out of the driver’s seat and called Captain Iškur over. After a brief discussion, his Skeleton Warriors started to file out of the vessel to bring the cargo in. The narrow gangplank proved to be a problem, as it was only wide enough to allow passage in one direction.

“Jeeves,” Ludmila said, “see if–”

『Lady Zahradnik, your presence is required at the Linum residence.』

Ludmila raised a hand to her ear.

『What happened, Nonna?』

『Ilwé Linum is currently involved in an altercation.』

An altercation? She found the report difficult to believe: all Mrs Linum did was live quietly and take care of Lord Mare’s potted tree. Nonna was not one for making jokes, however.

『I will be right over.』

“Jeeves,” Ludmila said, “find some suitable boards for Captain Iškur’s crew to use. They are going to be loading cargo for days at this rate.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The Soul Eaters were all busy ferrying cargo to Ruin’s Wake, so Ludmila activated her flight item and sped off towards the village. She skimmed along the roads, feet propelling her over the stone. As she approached the village square, she rose into the air to avoid any collisions and to see what was going on ahead. As the details became clear, however, the situation became less so.

Two dozen villagers stood in a loose gathering in front of the Linum residence, murmuring amongst themselves as they looked on with concerned looks and crossed arms. Several men were pulled away by their wives, while curious boys were ushered away by their mothers.

“Give it back to me!”

“No, give it back to me!”

Though the demands were similar, the voices were not. The first belonged to Ilwé Linum, while the second was unfamiliar. Ludmila landed nearby, completely befuddled at the sight.

A Death Knight stood between two figures, holding Lord Mare’s potted tree high above its head in both hands. Two figures hopped up and down on either side of it, incessantly repeating their demands. Ilwé Linum was on its left, a tearfully desperate look on her face. On its right was a being Ludmila had never seen before. Despite this, it could only be one thing.

“Give it back!”

“Give it back!”

“Don’t listen to her – it’s mine! I’ll die without my tree!”

I suppose I should keep Captain Iškur away from the town for now…

It was a Dryad.