Chapter 15

Their journey home was about half way over. The ride so far had been uneventful. Wagons got stuck here and there, but they were able to get them moving again fairly quickly, and no parts had broken yet. The Baron was looking through window of his carriage. Since he was one of the richest people in the Empire, possibly the richest person in the Empire, he could travel in a lavish and comfortable fashion. Something about the situation felt wrong to him though. He felt uneasy as he stared at the changing scenery through the glass of his carriage. He wasn’t quite sure why, but the whole situation made him feel uneasy. His leg was bouncing and he was idling palming his pistol, pulling the hammer back and pushing it forward slowly. The sharp click! of parts locking in place was calming to him.

His feelings of unease were exacerbated when they entered the deep forest of the Dunkwald, named for its extremely thick canopy which blocks all sunlight deeper in the forest.

“Perfect place for an ambush…”

He mumbled to no one in particular.

“Truly a melancholy place. At least any bandits that have made this forest home will hesitate to attack an armed caravan.”

Helmut commented dryly. The Baron looked over at him briefly before returning his gaze to the window. He had almost forgotten that Helmut decided to sit in the Baron’s carriage. There was only room enough for two people in the Baron’s carriage, and the others had elected to have their own cart, expectation for Ludwin and Fergus, who had decided to share a cart instead of having their own personal ones.

That’s quite possibly the safest place to be during an attack, the Baron mused dryly. As the caravan ventured deeper into the Dunkwald, and the darkness around him grew, so too did his anxiety. He was struggling to breathe, just barely able to draw in enough air with each raspy pant to keep himself conscious. His heart beat fast, too fast for his liking. It pounded hard, picking up the pace with each and every step further into the darkness of this accursed canopy.

“Baron? Are you ok? Your face is all red, and you're breathing heavily.”

The Baron looked over at Helmut, who had scooted over to the Baron and placed his hand on the Baron’s shoulder.

“Hhha...hrrnn...haa…”

The Baron tried to respond, to assure Helmut that he was alright, but all that came out was a rough rasping noise. His heart had begun to hurt, his breathing was coming even less steady, and his vision was beginning to blur. Helmut pushed the Baron down across his seat and stood up.

“Sir, try to calm down, I will go find Ludwin, he may know how to help you.” His voice was monotone and ice cold, but the Baron could pick up on a note of panic developing in it, which did nothing to make the Baron feel any better. The Baron stared at the ceiling of his carriage, trying to steady his breathing. He couldn’t figure out why this was happening, and that lack of understanding was exacerbating his malady. After a short moment, Ludwin’s face appeared in the Baron’s blurring view.

“Baron! Baron what’s wrong!?”

Ludwin turned away from the Baron and started yelling.

“Helmut! What in the name of Frau Abhilfe happened?!”

Helmut jumped in the carriage as he answered the question, his deadpan voice still carried with it a very obvious note of fear.

“I have no idea. When we entered the Dunkwald he just started breathing heavily, and his face turned red.”

Ludwin gently wiped the hair out of the Baron’s face and put their foreheads together. After a short delay he moved his ear to the Baron’s chest.

“He doesn’t have a fever but his heart is beating way too fast.”

Ludwin looked back up at Helmut.

“You said he started showing these symptoms when we entered the forest, did it happen immediately, or as we got deeper?”

“Well, at the outskirts of the forest he looked a bit uneasy, and as we got deeper he began to breathe heavily.”

Ludwin looked the Baron in the eyes and tapped his cheek to get his attention.

“Baron, we’re going to try something here, just bear with me. I need you to sit up and identify five things surrounding you.”

The Baron sat up and quietly found five different things surrounding him

“Have you found them? Tell me what they are.”

“Uh...there’s a seat.”

“Yes, yes! A seat. What’s on the seat?”

The Baron rubbed his eyes briefly, his vision was blurred very heavily.

“My...my pistol is sitting on it...next to it is my saber…”

“Yes, perfect! What else do you see?”

“I see...a stained glass window...it depicts the first settlers of Bickenstadt making a home for themselves. Not sure why I had that commissioned that, makes it a pain to see through.”“You’re doing perfect! Find one more thing and describe it for me!”

The Baron weakly reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin.

“A coin. It...it depicts a boat docking at a...harbor…”

Ludwin smiled and held the Baron’s hand

“Perfect! Now, breathe with me, in for four, out for four. Ready?”

They performed Ludwin’s breathing technique together for a while. After a bit of breathing in and out slowly, the Baron realized his breathing had been brought under control, and his heartbeat had slowed down and ceased to hurt. He sat up straighter in his seat and just continued to breathe for a while.

“Do you feel better now, Baron?”

The Baron looked to Helmut and smiled.

“Yes, much better. I am sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Ludwin patted the Baron’s shoulder and smiled weakly.

“I believe you had a panic attack. I've seen this happen to particularly nervous merchants on their first trade mission from time to time. I used some techniques my family taught me to keep me calm and composed while trading in an unfamiliar foreign land.”

“A panic attack? But, what would have caused a panic attack?”

Ludwin stroked his bare chin in thought.

“Well, Helmut told me that your symptoms started as we entered the Dunkwald...so something about this place must have triggered it. Even without all of your memories your subconscious could still remember your past, and your body could still react to past trauma you have no memory of.”

“Strange…”

As the Baron was trying to recall what caused his panic attack, one of his men came to his carriage.

“Sir! Have you recovered from whatever has taken hold of you?”

The Baron nodded, standing up and walking out of his carriage. He still felt a little unsteady, but he had enough practice looking completely unfazed in dangerous situations to let that show to his men.

“Everyone! I have recovered from my malady! It was nothing to be concerned about, as you can see I am still quite healthy! We will continue to march! Let us be home to our families in a timely fashion!”

The men cheered and the caravan started moving again.

 

Finally, after nearly a year on campaign, from the 4th of May, year 1659, to the 4th of February, year 1660, the Klarwasser Mercenary Company had finally made it back home to Bickenstadt. All that was left was for them to offload what they had brought home, perform a headcount, audit what riches they had attained on campaign, and pay the men what they were owed.

The men were welcomed back to Bickenstadt with honors. Nearly the whole city had come out to watch the victorious men return home. Stalls lined the brick layed streets, vendors sold food, money changers changed currencies, and the Bickenstadt homeguard were decked out in gold plated ceremonial armor to celebrate the return of the Baron. He recalled that he was popular in his hometown, on account of being a kind man who treated his people well, but the people had turned his return into a festival. The men were soaking in the celebration, all smiling, waving to the crowd, generally being amicable to the raucous atmosphere. The Baron himself seemed to get caught up in the fun, throwing coins to people and attempting to be as charming as possible. The Baron turned to Ludwin as he rode.

“The men should enjoy the festivities, when we get back to Castle Bickenstadt, tell the men to leave everything in the courtyard and head back into town, I’ll distribute their payments as quickly as I can so they may properly enjoy themselves.”

“Fantastic idea Baron!”

The Baron was greeted at Castle Bickenstadt by a man who looked very similar to himself, though with far fewer gray hairs and with a less muscular build.

“Father! It is good to finally see you again! We’ve been apart for almost a year now! I was beginning to get worried you had forgotten about us!”

The man was his son, Wolfgang von Bickenstadt.

“Wolfgang! You have no idea how much I missed you!”

The Baron both meant and didn’t mean that. Wolfgang was functionally a stranger to the Baron, his memories of Wolfgang were mostly missing, but the emotions he felt toward his son remained strong as ever. This was his kin, as well as the only reason he was able to go on adventures and start his mercenary company. He was an extremely dependable young man, intelligent and wise beyond his years. He may be no match for the Baron when it came to warfare, but he was far better at administrative work.

“We have so much to talk about! I can’t believe the Empress gave you ownership of Holenstadt! We will have to discuss what that means for us going forward after you have settled down a bit.”

The Baron jumped down from his horse and walked over to Wolfgang, briefly embracing him.

“I have decided that the men shall be able to partake in our festivities. We are going to leave everything in the castle’s courtyard and put everything away tomorrow. We need to quickly pay our men so that they may celebrate to their heart’s content.”

The Baron pulled out a large book and handed it to his son.

“This ledger contains the amounts each man is owed, we need to pay out the proper amounts as soon as possible.”

“Fantastic, let’s get started immediately.”

“Wolfgang, I am sorry to do this, but I have business in the town. Important business. I will be changing into something less...conspicuous. If you know what I mean.”

Wolfgang looked down at his feet for a moment.

“Of course....”

The Baron patted Wolfgang shoulder and he walked past him.

“Don’t worry, after this business is finished, we will be able to spend time together. I'll tell you everything that happened to me during the rebellion. You’ve waited nine months now, I’m sure you can manage one more day.”

Wolfgang looked over his shoulder and smiled slightly.

“Yeah...I’ll just have to get this done quickly so I can properly prepare for our time together! See you tomorrow, dad.”

The Baron smiled brightly and hurried inside the castle, leaving Wolfgang to read through the ledger and hand out rewards.

A figure stalked through the backstreets of the capital city of Bickenstadt province, also called Bickenstadt. He wore a simple gray cloak which covered his entire body. The coat itself covered him completely from his shoulders to his ankles, and he wore a hood to conceal his face. If he was hoping to be inconspicuous, he was failing hard. He completely stood out from the people around him, everyone else, even the poorest of the poor, were wearing the bright orange and blue which Bickenstadt was known for. The only thing he had going for him was that no one could tell his identity by virtue of his attire lacking and hiding any distinguishing features.

He walked through back allies for a while, seemingly changing direction and turning corners at random, until, after a good amount of cardio, he arrived at his destination. The sign of the shop depicted an angry man chopping a fish in half. Underneath read the words “Der Angepisste Fischhändler”. He pushed in the door and was greeted by the horrifying smell of hundreds of fish all in the same place. The man behind the counter, a mountain of a man whose face was vaguely fish-like, looked at this potential customer with undisguised disgust.

 

“Welcome to Der Angepisste Fischhändler, what do you want?”

The disguised man pulled back his hood to reveal his eyepatch and slicked back salt and pepper hair.

“I would like to speak to Johan.”

The shopkeeper smiled, or at least tried to, and threw the Baron a bit of dried salmon.

“Of course, e’s right in the back, go through the double doors and take a right! E’s been waiting for you for a couple a’ months!”

The Baron thanked the shopkeep and followed his directions, chewing on the salmon jerky as he went. The Baron turned right as he walked through the aforementioned double doors and was greeted with a meat locker. The Baron opened the door and started to walk through the hanging meat with no hesitation. After reaching the end of the locker he found a giant side of beef laying on the floor.

“That’s a little too obvious...do they need more funding or something?”

The Baron muttered to himself as he grabbed a hook that was hanging from the ceiling. He stuck the side of beef and pulled it to the side, revealing a trap door. The Baron opened the trap door and descended down the stairs, eventually finding himself in the Bickenstadt sewers. After following the different fish symbols carved into the walls, he found a door guarded by two sewerjacks, one skinny and tall, and the other short and wide. The wide one unhooked his club and began slapping his palm with it.

“Well, well, well. What do we ‘ave ‘ere?”

The lanky sewer jack grabbed the torch on the wall and waved it at the Baron.

“Whata suspicious character we ‘ave ‘ere! We’ll ‘ave ta report this to the boss!”

The short one laughed an ugly laugh.

 

"After we're done beatin' ya half to death!"

The Baron rolled his eyes and moved into the light of the torch.

“It's me you dullards.”

The sewer jacks stiffened when they realised who he was.

“Ah! Of course! Sorry boss!”

The lanky one quickly pulled open the door and bowed to the Baron as he gestured for him to enter.

“I ‘ere you ‘ave business with that foppish dandy that showed up ‘ere months ago. The boys ‘ave been treatin’ ‘im well, as per your orders!”

The Baron nodded as he passed and flipped a few coins at the two sewer jacks.

“Keep up the good work gentlemen.”

He paid them no mind as they scrambled for the coins that he had given them, heading through the open door with his head held high. Past the door the Baron was greeted with a massive cavern that opened into the ocean. There were a couple of buildings and a dock set up at the mouth of the cavern. The Baron made his way to the building with a giant sign that said ‘Tavern’ on it.

“This place is dead. The men must be out on assignment.”

The Baron was currently in Bickenstadt’s state run black market town. This was where the Baron went to do business with his privateer company, and where his pirates and other ne’er-do-wells did their illicit business. A massive trading hub and port city like Bickenstadt was bound to have a criminal underbelly, so the Baron decided to simply make it work for him. If there was going to be illegal trading of illicit goods, he might as well use that trade to help his people. The Baron walked up to the innkeeper, a man with a flat, square face, broken nose, short brown hair, glasses, and massive scar on his throat, and handed him a single Reiksgeld.

“I’m here to see a foppish snob.”

The innkeeper looked up from his book and pointed to a number on a board using a stick carved to look like a finger. The Baron chuckled slightly and handed him another coin.

“Spending your money wisely I see. Next time I come here you better have a whole hand.”

The innkeeper smiled slightly and went back to his book. The Baron went to the room the innkeeper pointed to and knocked on the door lightly.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Johan!”

The door swung open, revealing a very young and attractive face.

“Baron! Where have you been?”

“I’ve been fixing up Holensburg, your sister gave explicit orders to destroy as much infrastructure as possible when she sent a couple of companies to put down the rebellion you caused.”

The prince pulled out a bottle of Elven brandy and two glasses.

“Yes, I had a feeling she would pull something like that. She read some works that the otherworlders brought over and discussed them with me a while ago. She seemed especially interested in the concept that destroying infrastructure could bring prosperity, because the spending that would take place to repair said destroyed infrastructure would make the economy flourish.”

The Baron froze in place as he reached over to grab his glass.

“...Are you serious? Is that why she ordered Holensburg to be destroyed but Leibensburg to be unharmed? For an experiment?!”

“My sister always has ulterior motives, she’s a schemer. Always has been. It’s what makes her a good Empress, I suppose. She most likely wanted to cow the population of Holenstadt as well, though I imagine her efforts only galvanized their will to leave the Empire, My sister may be able to read people's minds, but she is utterly hopeless when it comes to reading hearts. Oh, she cannot literally read minds, it was just a turn of phrase.”

The Baron chuckled slightly and took a sip of his brandy. My god that is alcoholic.

“The ruling families of Holensburg are itching to rebel again, they showed open contempt for me when we first met, and only worked with me begrudgingly after I promised them I would help preserve their culture.”

The prince smiled and walked over to a small box sitting on a shelf, opening it to retrieve an orange.

“These magical ice boxes are amazing! Fresh fruit to add to my cocktails no matter the time of year! Absolutely splendid!”

“Yes, my privateers sometimes return with them. Quite handy if you ask me! Fresh fruit, vegetables, and meat all year round!”

The Baron walked over and retrieved an orange to juice into his bandy.

“Oh, while we’re on the subject of rebellion, I haven’t told the Holenstadters about us, all I told them was to bide their time. I hope they take my advice, because we will not prevail without them.”

“Yes, we will require their manpower to stand up to the Grand Imperial Army. Even if they are only 500,000 strong, the Empress likes to keep her men in fighting shape. Each man is a true warrior in his own right, she’s made sure of that. And beyond their manpower, they will hire many mercenary companies and call upon their allies. We may need close to a million men to challenge them, and gaining so many is not quiet business. My sister will notice long before we have enough manpower. So, what do you suggest we do about that? I believe we should discuss the practicality of our plan before we discuss the aftermath.”

The Baron sat back in his chair and stroked his beard.

“I believe we can pull it off. There are plenty of political dissidents within the Empire, it has gotten so bad that your sister offered to split the Empire with me. She is squabbling with her own spymaster, a story I have been told by Spymaster Brusilov himself. She is hated by the denizens of Holenstadt and Waffenstadt, and my people love me more than they fear her.”

“But, is that truly enough? My sister is a schemer, and a military genius who has created an inner circle of fellow military geniuses, I do not believe we can win without a significant advantage.”

The Baron smirked slightly and leaned forward.

“Then, perhaps we receive the help of the Elves? Or the Dwarves? Anything that could give us an advantage would be appreciated, no?”

The prince looked slightly taken aback.

“The Elves? How do you plan on getting their support? They hate the Empire more than anything, their word for us literally translates into ‘One who commits genocide’ because of the atrocities we have comitted against them.”

“But, you had Elves working for you, did you not?”

“Well, yes, but they were not helping men of the Empire, they were helping me. I had helped those men in the past, so they owed me a favor. Simple as that.”

“Do you not think that the Elves would help us destroy the Empire? If they hate it so much shouldn’t they want it gone?”

“That may be true, but there is almost no way you could open negotiations with them. If they so much as suspect that a ship has Empiresmen on it they will sink it.”

“Trust me, no matter how good your security is, people will slip through the cracks if given enough time. Even the most carefully laid plans will be rent asunder should there be enough will. We will contact the Elves, and they will help us. Also, I have an elf working for me, so that should help.”

“...You should have just opened with that.”

The Baron gave him a dumb grin and sipped his brandy, resting his legs on the table.

“I enjoy nothing more than hearing the sound of my own voice. Now, should we discuss the particulars of what we wish to turn the Empire into?”

“But of course! Firstly, from our last conversation I gather you are quite well versed in the otherworlder’s history, is that accurate?”

In the Baron’s previous life he was a history professor at a prestigious university. After his tour of duty he retreated into academia, learning became his coping mechanism. He had actually cowritten a textbook that was adopted in most states. The Baron nodded and the Prince continued.

“I wish to create a system similar to the Roman Republic, with a senate that represents the people. But unlike the Roman Republic, our people will directly vote for senators. As much as I believe in the capacity of the common man, a direct democracy such as the Elven system would not work for us in such a short timeframe, our literacy rate is only about 70%, and though we have come a long way since our feudal days, our people are still largely ignorant of all matters beyond what they do for work and whatever propaganda my sister shoves down their gaping maws.” The Baron frowned slightly and gestured to the prince with his palm toward the sky.

“I am unsure about that supposition. The Elves transitioned directly from a feudal state with illiterate serfs and divine monarchs to an enlightened democratic society with an industry and military powerful enough to rival our own. I believe that if we could figure out what they did to achieve such a feat and implement it here, we could have a properly egalitarian society in just a couple of generations just as the Elves did.”

“Baron, I doubt that things would go as smoothly for us. I believe that their ability to do this in just two or three generations has a lot to do with their longevity. Do remember that Elves can live for a thousand years. Two generations for Elves would be about 300 years. They had a very long time to educate their population, and their society does not have nearly as bad a problem of transferring information without losing or changing any aspect of it than we do. In 100 years an idea perpetrated by humans could be lost or perverted into something else because the concept had passed through so many different people and had gone through the filter of their own ideas and biases, but with Elves 100 years is essentially the blink of an eye. In that time frame the creator of that Idea could still be young and spreading their ideas personally. Do you understand what I am getting at?”

“I suppose I do...you make a fine point, much to my chagrin.”

The prince smiled smugly.

“Of course I do, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t intelligent.”

“I suppose that’s true...Oh, do you plan to extend the average person’s power to things like city representatives and governors?”

“Of course. The people would vote for senators and whatever governing bodies are in place where they live. The senate would make decisions that affect the country as a whole and the governors would govern the city.”

“That sounds good so far. Are we planning on keeping the Empire together, just distributing the power and making it more representative? Or would we allow whoever wishes to be excluded from our republic leave and create their own system?”

“I plan on keeping the Empire’s people together. They will choose representatives and they will have the right to self determination, but they will be staying in our republic. Otherwise what is stopping them from joining in our revolution and then going off to create an even more oppressive system than the Empire? If our allies do not wish to play by the rules, then when the time comes we will simply have to quietly replace them with someone more...appreciative, of our values.”

“I suppose that’s reasonable enough. Do you have anything written down? Meaning do you have some sort of rough draft for a constitution written? An outline for our new government? It would need to be incredibly thorough, leaving no room for misinterpretation and written clear enough for the average person to understand?”

“I have an extremely rough draft. I would need much more time, and possibly much more manpower, to come up with something acceptable. In the meantime, I believe that we should focus on making allies, and by we I mean you. I suggest you begin with slowly convincing your lieutenants, they may be loyal to you, but they will most likely balk a bit at a revolution. After you have convinced or replaced your inner circle, then move on to making allies of other powerful men.”

“That sounds like a fantastic plan. As much as I enjoy talking to you, I do believe we should wrap this up. I will find people to help you figure out the specifics of wording and iron out the details of how every little thing will function. I hope you enjoy this place, because you are going to be living in Bickenstadt’s black market town for the foreseeable future. I’ll think about creating more opulent lodging for you in the future, if you wish. For now you’ll just have to be content with the never ending supply of booze and exotic goods.”

The prince downed the rest of his brandy and stood up to shake hands with the Baron.

“I look forward to our continued partnership. And to whatever goods your privateers bring in!”

“Oh course! My men are of the utmost quality! I’ll make sure they bring you something shiny soon enough!”

The Baron stood up and left the prince alone, arm still extended for a handshake.

“Did he seriously just ignore my handshake? And he barely touched his brandy!”

The prince leaned over and grabbed his cup, downing it in a single gulp.

“Does he have any idea how expensive this stuff is? Well, I guess they are just stealing it, aren't they?”