Chapter 90. Territorial War (1)
The lord’s office in Ronalp.
Countess Karin Ronalp was once again working from the Count’s office, reviewing documents.
Ugh, I feel like I’m going to die from exhaustion.
The declaration of war had already been sent to Marcel Territory.
With royal approval, the territorial war had officially begun.
Eric Marcel becoming a Count had been an unexpected variable.
Fortunately, according to the administrators, it would be almost impossible for him to fill the new authorized strength of ninety knights.
The harvest had begun.
All that remained was to prepare for the territorial war.
Then Marcel suddenly stopped handling wheat.
The price of surplus wheat from both Ronalp and Ferrand collapsed.
Many merchants and farmers were unable to repay their loans and went bankrupt.
Karin had expected that much even without Eric’s warning.
So she had introduced a countermeasure.
To prevent further losses, she instituted a fixed price for wheat.
But merchants from other territories saw an opportunity and began importing cheaper wheat.
The market became so saturated with wheat that it practically exploded.
Yet the official wheat price was fixed at a high level.
Naturally, nobody wanted to buy it.
Ronalp and Ferrand were territories where the economy depended heavily on surplus agricultural production.
Once wheat stopped selling, liquidity froze.
Prices throughout the territories began collapsing.
At the same time, large numbers of people became unemployed.
Karin Ronalp was left with the enormous burden of fixing the situation.
Every day, mountains of reports and documents requiring approval piled up.
I’m going insane. That ignorant three-meals-a-day husband of mine just says we should print money or burn the wheat.
In truth, Count Ronalp’s idea was actually a good solution.
If they issued bonds, bought the surplus wheat to stabilize prices, and then either burned the excess or exported it to Catalonia after the territorial war, they could prevent an economic collapse.
But Karin, trapped by her fixed-price policy, could not escape.
While fighting through another mountain of paperwork, she suddenly became irritated.
Seriously, why does that ignorant husband make me handle this too? He does nothing but drink and fool around all day.
She was grumbling as she scribbled with a quill when someone came running toward the office, tried to open the door, and fell flat on the floor.
Thud!
“Urgh!”
Startled, Karin frowned at the fallen administrator.
“Administrator, before opening the door you should always knock...”
“Trolls! Trolls have appeared!”
“Yes. Trolls always appear. Send knights and soldiers.”
Long-Armed Blue Trolls occasionally appeared along Ronalp’s border with the Great Forest.
They killed grazing sheep.
Sometimes they killed shepherds too.
It was nothing new.
“That’s not what I mean. A lot of them appeared!”
“Then send more knights and soldiers.”
The administrator shouted in frustration.
“A huge number appeared! They came in a massive group!”
“What? How many?”
“More than a hundred have already appeared! There are even more inside the Great Forest!”
“What...”
“They’re all coming this way!”
Only then did Karin finally understand his desperation.
She shot to her feet.
Three-meals-a-day! Husband! Where is the Count? My lord! My lord!
Karin rushed out of the office.
At a time like this, all she could rely on was her Sword Master husband, the man who normally spent his days drinking and fooling around.
Receiving a declaration of war did not mean the fighting began immediately.
Traditionally, both sides agreed to meet at a specific place on a specific date, then fought one large field battle.
Ronalp and Dijon had proposed a date immediately after spring planting next year.
Their plan was clearly to conscript territorial residents as soon as planting ended, then fight the decisive battle.
I had no intention of agreeing.
Tradition was just tradition.
I planned to finish everything this year.
A grand field battle was nothing but unnecessary attrition.
Anyway, Pascal and I were currently riding through the lord’s city.
I wanted to show my face often enough that the territorial residents would not become anxious.
At the same time, I was checking for inconveniences and resolving complaints.
Pascal pointed toward the northern gate.
“There have been many petitions asking us to widen the road toward Ronalp. Bandits have disappeared, and trade with Ronalp has increased, so traffic seems to have grown considerably.”
Even after receiving the declaration of war and stopping wheat transactions, ordinary people continued private trade as usual.
Of course, checkpoints had been built everywhere to strictly block wheat imports.
“Even with the canal, securing land routes is important. We will need to gather laborers to repair the road during the agricultural off-season.”
Because I usually cared so much about public opinion, Pascal looked slightly surprised.
“Are you planning to impose compulsory labor on the territorial residents instead of slaves?”
“There’s no other choice. We still cannot obtain enough slaves.”
“If we force people to work, there will be complaints.”
“Not necessarily. Since we feed them, some people actually like it.”
I remembered compulsory labor back in Westfalen.
During the agricultural off-season or other slow periods, many territorial residents actually welcomed it.
There was one simple reason.
They were given two free meals a day.
“Really? They work just because you feed them?”
“It’s true. Unless the work is brutally hard, it can be better than sitting at home doing nothing.”
Pascal was the son of a quasi-noble family and had grown up without major hardship.
He did not know much about ordinary people’s lives.
I, on the other hand, had grown up resolving all kinds of strange complaints from territorial residents.
Naturally, I knew how people felt about compulsory labor.
“Hmm. I really feel how narrow my experience is.”
“You only recently had your coming-of-age ceremony. You cannot possibly have experienced everything. Don’t get discouraged.”
While I was reassuring Pascal,
I saw horses approaching rapidly from far beyond the northern gate.
“A messenger?”
“Seems so. Three people, but they have several spare horses.”
We turned toward the northern gate.
The messengers were riding so desperately that it clearly involved something urgent.
I dismounted when we arrived and stepped in front of the gate.
As the messengers came closer, their clothing looked like that of knights.
Pascal asked curiously,
“If it was urgent, why didn’t they send a pigeon? Why send knights on horseback?”
“That means it is important enough to require a seal.”
“What? Is something that important happening?”
I smiled.
“War.”
“Ah...”
Just as I expected, the knight acting as messenger nearly collapsed as he jumped from his horse.
“I come from Ronalp Territory! Look at this seal! I carry a letter for Count Marcel! Please let me through immediately!”
The knight practically screamed.
I walked toward him.
“I am Eric Marcel. Give me the letter.”
