Chapter 2

“That’s a lot of soldiers,” Saye said.

“Aye, it is,” Captain Harold replied.

In the darkness before dawn, Devinn’s Guile slowly coasted into Banre’s modest harbour. Saye wrinkled her nose at the odours of the wharf, but they were a far lesser concern relative to the sight that revealed itself as they closed with the piers of the port.

Soldiers loitered all over the waterfront – far more than the port town should have had. As soon as they noticed, the caravel’s crew took turns arming themselves, slipping sheathed cutlasses into their sashes and gripping bucklers in their fists. Saye borrowed the captain’s cabin to change into a less flashy outfit.

By the time she came out again, soldiers were gathering on the pier. Captain Harold stood at the port railing, nursing some sort of magic item in his hand. It looked like a thick wand, or maybe a short club. A half dozen more were holstered in his bandoliers.

“What’s that?” Saye asked.

“This?” The captain turned the item in his hand, “It’s a blunderbuss. A type of gun.”

“Oh.”

It was different from the one that Miss Delta carried around.

“Does it work differently than other guns?” Saye asked.

“It does,” Captain Harold nodded. “Unlike other guns that draw the user’s mana as your fire ‘em, Blunderbusses only hold one charge per barrel. But you can pre-charge ‘em and have a bunch at once like me. It’s a good compromise for those who don’t have large mana pools. A single shot can blast open a man’s chest from ten metres, so it’s ideal for exchanges between ships just before boarding.”

“Will it scare away the soldiers?”

The captain snorted.

“Probably not. The only people that know what guns are in these parts are those who’ve sailed far down the coast. The average soldier in Roble’s army is just about as ignorant as any other landlub–erm, any other Farmer or city dweller around here.”

A man in polished plate armour rode his horse to the end of the pier. He kicked a dockworker aside to make room for himself and called out to Devinn’s Guile as it closed with its berth.

“Identi–ouf!”

A mooring line hit the man square in the breastplate. He tumbled off his horse, rolling twice before falling into the water.

“Lord Reynaldo!”

“Someone get a rope!”

The dockworker returned to retrieve the line and moved to secure the ship while the soldiers around him shouted and milled about.

“Uppity little bitch,” Captain Harold muttered. “There’s your opening, Miss Saye.”

“Thanks!” Saye grinned.

Saye concealed her presence before vaulting over the railing and slipping into the chaos. She probably wasn’t stealthy enough to avoid detection by anyone who had watched her disembark, so she kept going as quickly as she could, sidling between soldiers and ducking under horses. Once she reached the buildings lining the wharf, she ran into the shadows of a narrow alley and climbed up onto the rooftops.

What to do, now…

Her original plan was to earn room and board in town by performing at an alehouse or restaurant. She would stay for several days, gleaning information as she worked and developed a picture of what was going on. With so many soldiers in the port, however, all available accommodations were probably taken by army officers and it probably wasn’t a good idea to stick around for as long as she wanted to.

Why were there so many soldiers here, anyway?

Saye padded over the red clay tiles of the rooftops, examining her surroundings before dropping back down and dirtying herself up a bit. At the end of the alley, she discovered that a ring of spectators had formed around Captain Harold, who stood cross-armed in front of the pier leading to his ship as two uniformed men argued in front of him.

One was adorned in an officer’s tabard, but he had the telltale handsomeness of Roble’s aristocrats. A squad of soldiers stood behind him. Saye couldn’t tell if they were retainers in uniform or just army regulars. Standing alone opposite the officer stood a middle-aged man in the uniform of a clerk.

“You can’t just ‘requisition’ any cargo that comes into port!” The man in the clerk’s uniform said, “This doesn’t even make any sense! If the Royal Army has been deployed, then it should have its own supply lines.”

“Is the army going to take our food away?” Saye asked.

The two men she had stuck her head out between glanced down at her before one of them answered.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Prices are bad enough with the new shipyard sucking up everything.”

Prices?

Why were there prices for grain delivered as charity? She couldn’t ask for clarification without marking herself as an outsider, however.

“We do have our own supply lines,” the army officer said. “That’s why we’re requisitioning this cargo.”

“Hah?”

The clerk’s – and Saye’s – confusion was echoed by dozens of other spectators. A sigh filled the air as the officer looked around him as if everyone was an idiot.

“We have been charged by His Divine Grace to conquer the wildlands north of the wall. An army only moves as quickly as its supply lines. Our country needs this campaign to succeed. The sooner victory comes, the sooner sorely needed resources can start flowing into our markets. We can speed our progress by having our troops carry the port’s supplies while those supplies are, in turn, replenished by the wagons lagging behind us.”

A low murmur rose around the clearing. Did he say that the army would take all of the town’s supplies?

“This is unreasonable,” the clerk said. “What do you expect us to eat while we wait for your wagons? And those supplies aren’t just for the port: they’re for the labour camp raising the shipyards, too!”

“It isn’t as if you’re going through all of your supplies in a single day,” the officer raised his arms in a shrug and shook his head. “We will leave you with enough to last until tomorrow morning. I assure you that our supply wagons will arrive just in time.”

“This is too reckless,” the clerk said amidst the rising concern of the crowd. “I demand to speak with your commanding officer.”

“Marquis Bodipo is with the centre wing of the army at the wall.”

Everyone immediately hushed. The officer’s lips turned up into a triumphant smile. As with other places, merely mentioning a highlord was enough to shut most people up.

“Marquis Bodipo…” The clerk frowned, “That’s impossible. This isn’t something he’d do. Captain Harold, could you do me a favour and sail me to the north gate? That’s not against the terms of your contract, right?”

The officer raised his hand. His soldiers drew their sidearms, filling the air with the ring of steel. Cries of panic rose from the spectators and people shoved against one another as they tried to get away.

“This is an order,” the officer was no longer smiling, “not a request. Additionally, we’ll be taking that ship in the port to help move supplies to the front.”

“Hoh…” Captain Harold uncrossed his massive arms, “Is that so?”

As the captain had predicted, the officer seemed unimpressed. Saye leaned forward expectantly, waiting for a hole to appear in his chest.

“The Holy Kingdom has a legal right to repurpose any ships moored in its ports in times of war,” the officer said. “You are in no position to resist our righteous cause.”

“I guess not,” Captain Harold shrugged. “But our contractor may take issue with what you’re doing.”

“Your contractor?” The officer scoffed, “As if a measly Merchant can do anything against a country.”

What remained of the crowd fell deathly silent. The soldiers brandishing their arms looked around themselves nervously.

“The Sorcerous Kingdom holds a contract with Devinn’s Guile to deliver its grain,” the clerk informed them.

In the end, the officer took supplies, but not the ship. Saye turned away from the scene, sighing in disappointment.

I wonder if that’s what’s happening to the grain…

That probably wasn't right. The confrontation seemed to be a new issue. It did give hints about what happened to the previous shipments, however.

The grain went to help feed the port and the labourers constructing a new shipyard somewhere nearby. It seemed like a good idea. The last time she was in the Holy Kingdom, they barely had any ships left. Building more would help them bring in stuff that they needed from elsewhere.

Saye wandered around the town as the skies grew lighter, watching the townsfolk go about their daily routines. Her wandering eventually brought her to the market square, where she recoiled in horror at the price of everything.

I need to get some food.

It was already so expensive – far more expensive than she remembered. She dove into a crowd of similarly-minded people, fighting to get to the storefront of one of the bakeries facing the square. By the time she made it to the counter, the price of bread had gone up by half a silver.

After stuffing several rolls into her bag, she went to buy some dried fish and preserves. As with the bakery, she found people rushing to stockpile food in the face of the impending shortage. The officer’s plan was already doomed to fail. It would take a while for the soldiers to make off with the town’s supplies, so she wondered if the plan would change. She didn’t want to be around if it didn’t.

A set of liveried men escorting a loaded wagon through the streets caught her attention. She tailed them to the town’s western gate, where they joined twenty other wagons escorted by men in the same colours. A mix of men and women were travelling with the caravan, so Saye went to join them. She fell into step with a woman walking near the rear of the group.

“Is this caravan going to the shipyard?” Saye asked.

“It is,” the woman answered. “You’re a bit young to be working there, though. Unless…”

The woman’s word’s trailed off and her lips pressed into a thin line. Her look of sympathy combined with frustrated resignation finished the sentence for her. A few moments passed before she let out a weak, self-deprecating laugh.

“Ah, who am I to say anything?” She said, “I’m going for the same reason. Maybe the gods stuck us together to keep our spirits up.”

“Why did you decide to go today?”

“Why else?” The woman looked over her shoulder, “You must’ve seen what happened back there. I was already barely surviving on scraps and I didn’t want any debts, so I just gave up.”

“What did you do before?”

Saye glanced over the woman’s appearance. She was dressed in town fashion and, like many of the townsfolk, her garb hung loosely over her frame. A sack like Saye’s was slung over her shoulder and the only other visible belonging was the dagger in her belt.

“I made my living mending nets and sails for Banre’s fishing fleet,” the woman said. “Then the war came and those damned Demihumans destroyed the fleet in a single night raid. I thank the gods that the war’s over, but that doesn’t mean life’s just back to the way it was before. There’s only been enough time to build small rowboats to fish with and not enough work for people like me.”

The seamstress let out a sigh and gave Saye an apologetic look.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just ranting. I know I’m not the only one having troubles because of all this.”

“How come you didn’t go to the shipyard before this?” Saye asked, “If they’re going to build new ships, they’re going to need sails and nets for them, right?”

“…you’re not from around here, are you?”

“I came from a farm town further inland,” Saye replied.

“Things must be getting bad if you’re coming all the way out here.”

“I’m not sure. People say that things will get better and we just have to stick it out for a bit longer, but the ‘bit longer’ keeps getting longer and longer. I heard about the shipyard, so I left while I could still afford to.”

Another woman fell back to walk with them. She was probably around twenty, but the poor condition of her pale skin and blonde hair made her look much older.

“I guess that’s what it all boils down to,” she stretched and yawned. “Honestly, we’re making the best choice. All of my friends left town to do the same thing back when the Holy King commissioned the shipyard, but I was too stubborn to give in. Now, food is worth more than coin and I look like this. I hope the men left over still have teeth.”

Within a minute, all of the women following the caravan had formed a group around Saye. From their chatter, it sounded like they were all going to the shipyard with the same idea. There was no living to be made in their old jobs anymore, so they were going to the labour camp to become ‘wives’ so they could at least survive.

Saye knew that the Holy Kingdom was in trouble from her first visit, but it was crazy how quickly things were deteriorating. The stuff that she did to support Liam and herself during their previous assignment probably wouldn’t work so well anymore.

“So, how come the people overseeing the labour camp won’t let us work normally?” Saye asked.

“It’s because they’re Nobles from down south, isn’t it?” One woman said, “They brought in their own people. All of us in the north are just menial labourers to them.”

“Ah…” Saye nodded thoughtfully.

It made sense, in hindsight. Though Re-Estize, Baharuth, and the Holy Kingdom were ruled by different types of sovereigns, they mostly worked the same way.

Outside of religion, the fabric of society was woven out of contracts, patronage, and history. In the Holy Kingdom’s case, the southern aristocrats who came to help run things in the north favoured their own people over the ones that they were managing in the north. The longer a tenant’s relationship with their landlord was, the more trustworthy they were considered to be. A history of trust was the most valuable currency and factored heavily into decision-making.

Of course, it wasn’t just the Nobles who thought that way – nearly everyone did. The only people who didn’t think that way were the tiny minority who were born and raised in the cities, which were directly under the Holy King. Even so, urban society simply replaced the nobility with the guilds that each citizen was affiliated with, ending up with a similar dynamic.

With the southern Holy Kingdom’s population mostly untouched by the war, they would have plenty of hopeful spares to bring in. Moreover, it was expected that they would be favoured over the citizens of the north by both the presiding house and the spare’s family. Saye doubted that anyone would have given the decision a second thought, and those decisions left the citizens of the north last in line when it came to securing tenancies, receiving licences, and being granted various legal rights.

“What about you?” The woman Saye had first walked up to asked, “What did you do before all of this?”

“I was training to become a Bard,” Saye answered. “But people don’t have money to spare for Bards anymore.”

“A Bard? No wonder you’re so pretty. You’ll have no problem becoming the mistress of someone rich and powerful. You might even be able to snag the overseer.”

“Or maybe a young Knight,” a woman on her left grinned. “With looks like that, you could pick out your type.”

Saye smiled as the conversation carried on without her and the women spent their time on the road trying to figure out how to improve their looks with the limited means available to them. She had no intention of becoming a ‘wife’, but she didn’t want to ruin the mood. The group of women had little to be happy about and they were just using what they thought were her circumstances to embark on their own little fantasies.

Their caravan passed through several fishing villages on its way along the windy coastal road. As expected, the villages were in far better condition than the town. They ate first and exported the rest, after all. The people in charge of them probably saw to it that they didn’t want for anything that affected their production.

The shipyard – or, rather, the shipyard’s labour camp – came into view early in the afternoon. Tents covered the fields along the gentle slope that led to the rocky coastline. Fluttering banners alternated between the flag of the Holy Kingdom and a house that she was unfamiliar with.

“Which house is that?” Saye looked up as they crossed into the camp, “The banners are different from the ones over the villages.”

“Um, I think they said it was…”

“Randalse,” Saye and the other women started as the stern voice of a man-at-arms came from the side. “And don’t you forget it. You, women, follow me.”

Saye exchanged looks with a few people in her group before they followed the man up a muddy track through the tents. Lingering gazes from the labourers around the cookfires tracked them as they passed. Way too many of them rested on Saye.

Hello? I’m eleven!

She knew that Bards were just naturally attractive and she was starting to become more womanly no matter what Liam said to the contrary, but she was still nowhere close to looking like an adult. The attention she received wasn’t that much of a bother to her in the Draconic Kingdom, but that was because she knew that the people in the Draconic Kingdom had an actual reason for getting together at a young age. They also knew their limits – Saye wasn’t sure if these men did.

The other women in the group didn’t seem to notice, or at least they pretended not to. Most of them looked like they were trying to see what was in the cookpots or silently strategising as they took in the details of the camp.

As they continued up the slope, their path eventually firmed and dried up. Their surroundings similarly improved and the men held themselves differently from the ones below. A pair of sentries armed with spears stopped them at the opening of a fenced-off area.

“Regina’s still on her way down,” one of them said.

“We can’t stick ‘em in the tent?”

“The tent guards are comin’ down with her.”

“What tent?” A woman near the front asked.

A sentry pointed loosely behind him in the direction of a white tent.

“That one,” he said. “There’s a bath and some, uh…woman stuff to pretty yourself up with. You get a clean shift, as well.”

“In the meantime,” the other sentry added, “it don’t hurt to let the boys take a look at you while you wait.”

Several men had already gathered and more were on the way. Saye watched bemusedly as the women shrunk away. Some tried to hide behind other women while others turned around. Whether they didn’t like the attention at all or just didn’t want to be seen before they were ready, Saye couldn’t tell. Then, she caught her right hand coming up to pull her hair over her ear and wanted to punch herself.

A few minutes later, the crowd parted to reveal a woman with fiery curls dressed from head to toe in finery. Behind her came a column of Maids. Half of them needed a shave and all of them looked like they could break a grown man in half. The woman in finery tapped the end of a long pipe in the palm of her hand as she looked down at the newly-arrived women.

“I am Regina,” she told them in a stern voice. “If you wish to survive here, remember that you answer to me.”

Almost simultaneously, the women spread their skirts and lowered their heads in a variety of awkward curtseys.

“Yes, Lady Regina!”

Saye turned away and snuck off.

Nooooooope.

Just from those few seconds, she knew it was a bad idea to stay. Both physically and mentally, ‘Lady Regina’ placed herself high above the other women. She was likely to be aggressive about defending her position of dominance and would see Saye as a threat no matter what. Saye wanted to look around the important parts of the camp for a bit to learn what she could, but she also didn’t want to be stripped naked and thrown to the men in the mud below so she could ‘know her place’.

The unfavourable lighting of the afternoon severely limited Saye’s ability to sneak around, so she decided to just leave. A girl travelling alone in the country would probably raise unwanted attention, however, so she went to wait at the nearest village. Along the way, she changed back into her ‘Bard outfit’ and pulled out her lute.

After some thought, she decided to equip several magic items, including her Darkvision necklace and a pair of gloves that increased her dexterity. This was in addition to her belt, which increased her strength, a pair of boots that made her more stealthy, a mantle that increased her resistance, and a nondescript brooch that granted its wearer an Endure Elements effect. Then, she took off a glove and slipped on her Lesser Ring of Protection.

In all, they were accessories that one would expect a successful wandering Bard to wear. Saye had, in fact, paid for everything herself through her performance earnings. She still hadn’t decided what sort of Bard she wanted to be, so she didn’t have any weapons or armour yet. Not that they would help her on her current assignment.

She chatted with the villagers to learn what she could before a caravan appeared from the direction of the labour camp. Its escort paid her little mind as she waved at the man sitting beside the front driver.

“Where to?” She asked.

“Kalinsha,” the man answered. “Need a ride?”

“If you don’t mind.”

The man reached out as the wagon rolled by, pulling her up to sit beside him. Since the wagon was loaded with dried fish, Saye put her pack on the vehicle’s footrest. She removed her boots, wiggling her toes with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you so much,” Saye smiled. “I’ve been walking all day.”

“We haven’t seen a Bard since…well, since near the beginning of the war. Where’d you come from?”

“I arrived at Banre with Devinn’s Guile.”

Several of the escorts raised their eyebrows.

“Devinn’s Guile,” the man sitting beside her said. “They’re a rough bunch. I hope nothing bad happened.”

Why did people keep saying that? The crew was rough-spoken, but they were all nice to her.

“We sailed from Re-Robel, so it was a short voyage.”

A scratching sound came from beside her as the man rubbed the stubble of his jaw.

“Re-Robel, eh? How are things up in Re-Estize these days?”

“Normal…for Re-Estize.”

“Darn,” the man said. “They didn’t lift a finger to help us with Jaldabaoth, so I was hoping something would happen to them. Burn a bit, maybe. Is that too much to ask? Anyway, I’d like to think that a Bard appearing from abroad is a sign of good things to come. I’m Bernardo, by the way: a Merchant working for House Randalse.”

“I’m Saye. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Bernardo.”

“So what brings you here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I came to find out what’s going on in the Holy Kingdom,” Saye replied. “There’s barely any news about you guys in the north, so it’s valuable information for all of the people that want to resume trade.”

A chuckle rose from Bernardo.

“I like the way you think, Miss Saye,” he said. “We could use our trade links back, even if it’s just Re-Estize. If you’re here for what you say, you must’ve noticed the prices in Banre.”

“I did,” Saye frowned. “I thought I brought enough money to live here for a few weeks, but now I’m not even sure if I can earn anything with my usual work. Actually, I heard something weird in Banre about the Sorcerous Kingdom’s free grain being sold for money. I couldn’t make any sense out of it.”

“It’s all about being equitable,” Bernardo told her.

“Equitable? As in fair?”

“Uh-huh. We’re glad for the help, but only charging the cost of handling, processing, and distribution means that a handful of people get food on the cheap while everyone else suffers. Instead, we process the grain and sell the bread at market value. The relief from the grain comes in the form of lowered demand for food, transport, and labour elsewhere, which in turn helps keep prices down. Get it?”

Saye clapped her hands in delight.

“Wow, that’s so smart! I know a little bit about markets but you Merchants really know your stuff. Did you come up with this yourself?”

“Nah,” Bernardo waved a hand. “It was the leaders assigned to manage the area around Banre. Under the leadership of His Divine Grace, the Holy Kingdom’s become a place full of fresh new ideas. We just need to stick things out to fruition. The world will be shocked to see what’s changed.”

Saye reached down and pulled out her lute, pretending to tune its strings. It was a magic item, so it never needed it.

Well, that answers that question.

Bernardo never mentioned who exactly was selling the food aid, but the answer seemed clear enough. Additionally, with the Holy Kingdom’s Royal Army co-opting the grain, those profiting from the arrangement wouldn’t be able to carry out their little scheme until the Holy Kingdom’s wilderness campaign was over. By the time it was, the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Intelligence Division would have people in place to dispose of Bernardo and his associates.

She wondered how many people involved in the scheme would die. Maybe she could watch.

The men of the caravan smiled as Saye welcomed the evening with a song. With the mystery of the grain shipments no longer nagging at her, she could now focus on her main target.