Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 3

Olga and Raul sent unveiled looks of disgust in Miss Gran’s direction. The Elder Lich standing behind Olga looked up from its clipboard.

“Does this constitute a breach of labour rights?” The crimson points of light in its eye sockets flared.

“Did Dame Verilyn instruct you to not pay the Goblins?” Ludmila asked.

“She didn’t, my lady,” the seneschal replied, “but she was still quite pleased when she learned about it.”

Ludmila rose from her seat. Miss Gran flinched as she placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You are a chivalrous woman, Miss Gran,” she said.

“D-Don’t say that!” The seneschal cried, “It isn’t as if I want to appear chivalrous in regards to this! I already told you that I feel guilty about it.”

“I know,” Ludmila returned to her seat. “You are compensating them in some way, yes?”

“I’m trying to figure it out, my lady,” Miss Gran replied, “but everything’s been moving so quickly that I haven’t been able to come up with any arrangements that satisfy me. I went from moving here at the beginning of summer to having fifteen thousand Goblins by the end of it.”

“That is understandable,” Ludmila said. “What is your current arrangement?”

“The closest precedent I’m familiar with is a forester contract, so I decided to start with something along those lines.”

“…no wonder you have fifteen thousand Goblins.”

Miss Gran held her hands out helplessly.

“I didn’t know this would happen! At first, I thought it would be fine until I figured something out. Then, the forest was suddenly filled with Goblins! Beyond anything else that has happened, I think it’s this that’s thrown my development plans into chaos the most.”

A forester’s contract was exactly as it sounded: it granted the contract holder certain rights, such as hunting and fishing, forage, and timber harvesting in a lord’s forests in exchange for their expertise in woodland management and provision. It was the occupation that employed most of the Rangers in the Human countries nearby, though foresters usually didn’t recognise themselves as one.

“Are they generating any revenues?” Ludmila asked.

“Not much relative to the sheer number of them,” Nemel sighed. “They circulate resources internally and barely anything comes out, so trade taxes are dismal. Never mind that, it’s as if their goal is stretching their resources out to support as many people as possible.”

“That is how Goblins usually are, I suppose,” Ludmila said. “Their advantage is in their numbers, so having a few more Goblins around is worth far more than securing a comfortable lifestyle in their minds.”

“I can see that now, my lady,” the seneschal said. “They don’t keep track of anything either, so it’s impossible to tax them fairly.”

“Since they self-organise on basic levels so well, why not just manage them as groups rather than individuals?”

Miss Gran stood up and went to fetch a binder from a nearby cabinet.

“I’ve been considering that,” she said as she placed the binder on the table between them, “but I’m supposed to be establishing ten agricultural villages along the valley. I can’t settle into any permanent arrangements that might get in the way of what I promised Dame Verilyn. Even the most innocent misunderstandings inflict all sorts of trauma on her.”

“Why not just have Goblin Farmers?” Raul asked.

“Goblin Farmers, huh…” the seneschal settled back into her seat. “I can’t recall any legends that mention Goblins cultivating fields. After watching mine for the last few months, I think if I tell them that they can grow food in dirt, they’ll just eat dirt to save time.”

“I don’t think they’re that stupid,” Raul said.

“It’s not a matter of stupid,” Miss Gran said, “It’s whether they think they can do it or not. The last thing I need is thousands of starving, sick Goblins.”

“You have seen plenty of success having your Human migrants mentoring the Goblins,” Ludmila noted. “Why not continue things along that vein?”

“I am, my lady. The problem is that it’s too slow relative to our population growth. My only hope is that they start teaching one another and somehow conveniently fill all of the roles that the fief needs.”

“So do you still plan on bringing in Farmers from the Empire in the spring?” Ludmila asked, “That should help with vocational training, assuming the new migrants are willing to work with the Goblins.”

“Plenty of people have already signed up at our agency in Arwintar,” Miss Gran answered. “I’d hate to disappoint them. Also, I want at least some potat–er, agriculture. I just don’t think the farms can be as expansive as I first envisioned because the Goblin population is so huge.”

“If the land cannot support them, they will migrate.”

“Migrate where?” Nemel frowned, “Don’t tell me Countess Corelyn is going to issue a complaint because a hundred Goblins decided to pack up their stuff and move into one of her orchards.”

That might be funny to see…

Despite her outward displays of perfect composure, Clara still wasn’t entirely comfortable around other races – tribal Demihumans, especially. If a group of them moved onto her territory, Clara would probably scream for Ludmila to do something.

“They would probably go and conquer the land across the river, first. Given their training and equipment, they may succeed in spreading their influence over a large part of the Upper Reaches.”

“…is that alright?” Miss Gran asked, “I know that Re-Estize law doesn’t prohibit conflict between territories, but I haven’t heard of anything like that happening in over a century.”

“It occurs rarely to settle certain disputes,” Ludmila answered. “Personally, I would like to see how things develop. Wilderness tribes are always characterised as savage and violent, but that does not make very much sense in this situation given what I know of them.”

“Does that mean any conquest will add to Dame Verilyn’s territory?”

“No. The provisions of the Special Administrative Area only apply to the independent tribes that dwell there. I believe that undesirable outcomes would manifest if outsiders started to ‘sponsor’ the activities of certain tribes. At any rate, we should continue our class discussion. Compared to our Re-Estize example, how did Miss Gran raise her armed forces?”

“By being a Hobhuman,” Olga said.

“A Hob–”

“Correct,” Ludmila nodded. “Miss Gran cleverly took advantage of Goblin social hierarchy and unified the local tribes. The Goblinoid sense of hierarchy is so strong that it transcends race. One will often see Goblins in tribes of Ogres and Trolls, even when they are subjected to slavish conditions.”

“But how can we compare what’s happening here to a Noble’s efforts to raise armed forces in Re-Estize?” Raul asked, “Nobles don’t force people to join them by beating them up.”

“I didn’t ‘beat them up’,” Miss Gran protested. “They’re the ones that mistook my offer for a challenge and I mostly used Sleep spells to win.”

Olga and Raul seemed unconvinced. Miss Gran was a War Wizard, after all.

“One may interpret this as the power of culture and institutions on recruitment,” Ludmila said. “The broad, physical weakness of Goblins belies the fact that they appear to be born soldiers. That aspect of their nature is so strong that they will independently form military units once they find a ‘Hobgoblin’ to lead them. This is a powerful ‘cheat’ compared to what Humans need to accomplish the same results.”

“So Miss Gran is just feeding them?” Raul made a face.

“If we were to frame things in more formal terms,” Ludmila told him, “she is allowing tribes to dwell on her land. In exchange for the ‘forester contract’ that she mentioned previously, each tribe is contributing warbands as the major part of their tribute. Miss Gran, in turn, has turned those warbands into her territory’s security force. Simultaneously, she is trying to encourage the tribes to participate in local industries and familiarise them with the society she is building. Overall, Miss Gran has come up with a highly effective strategy that has the effect of investing the Goblin tribes heavily in her territorial development.”

“…I didn’t know I was doing all of that,” Miss Gran said. “I was just doing what I felt was right.”

“You may find that it is the best way to do things,” Ludmila smiled slightly. “Even so, one should not neglect to analyse the outcomes of one’s decisions and why they occurred. You may have also been influenced by your background as an imperial scion. Fundamentally, the Empire uses the same strategy with the Imperial Knights.”

“Why does it feel as if we share so many similarities with the tribes?” Olga asked, “If you take a Human barony and call it a ‘clan’, then each village in the barony can be a ‘tribe’ living off of the land that’s been allocated to it.”

“That is because we do share many similarities with the tribes,” Ludmila answered. “Our loyalties are effectively tribal loyalties. Families are loyal to family above all else. Villagers put the well-being of their village before the fief as a whole. The King of the kingdom is lucky if the subjects of his vassals regard him as anything more than a name. Many of the political and economic systems that we employ in our society aren’t much more advanced than what the tribes use. People tend to look down on tribes due to their unfamiliarity with them. Ego and comforting lies do the rest. In reality, there are tribes out there that are far more advanced than Re-Estize or the Empire, like the Krkonoše and the Confederation of the Sandstone Forest east of the Katze Plains.”

“Then why can’t we do the same thing? Miss Gran just started a few months ago and she has an army that can beat up any baronial retinue. I bet she could win against the average Count, as well. It’s like the Nobles screwed up.”

Miss Gran glanced nervously at Ludmila, as if she expected to be ordered to conquer a County in Re-Estize as the next practical lesson for the pair of Commanders-in-training.

“I do not disagree with your assessment,” Ludmila said. “At the same time, it is hard to pin down any single cause for the blunder. We have discussed some economic rationale for it, which is combined with the relative safety of a fief and the availability of mostly effective security contractors in the form of Adventurers, Workers, and other mercenary groups. Another reason is the centralisation of power, as has happened in the Baharuth Empire. The Emperor suffers no threats to his authoritarian rule, which is upheld by military force. To ensure this, he has stripped the nobility of their obligations and rights when it comes to the maintenance of territorial armies. They are legally barred from raising personal regiments even if they want to.

“Still, what we can broadly term ‘martial culture’ is always present in some form, attempting to ensure that security concerns are always addressed. Take the scions of the martial nobility, for instance. People like myself are born and bred for personal combat and military leadership. A career as a military governor is assumed rather than considered. My thought process is ‘I’m a Frontier Noble, what does that mean? What should I be doing? What is my role? In what form does that role manifest in the system which I am a part of and how do I secure that position?

“Compare this to what the average civilian in a rural village considers, which we discussed just now. The fact that it must even be considered is telling in itself. In addition to financial concerns, negative connotations can be attached to military service. In Re-Estize, for instance, how the community feels about the levy, along with the tales and condition of those who return from carrying out their obligations can and will be assumed to be the norm for professional soldiers. A village’s negative experiences with tribal raids and bandit activity add risks to the imagination that dissuade them from serving as part of the local lord’s armed retinue.”

“People would want to join because of raids,” Raul said. “To protect their families or get back at the people who attacked them. Also, boys play soldier all the time and everyone looks up to strong warriors. As long as they aren’t horrible people, anyway.”

“You are not incorrect,” Ludmila admitted, “but the outcome of those things is varied. For every man who wants to fight back, there is another who tries to avoid another confrontation. Every man who wants to fight back may also be dissuaded by family members who fear what may happen if their primary breadwinner does not come home one day. Boys playing soldier usually only lasts until they become young adults and, while the strong are admired by all, few follow in their footsteps. Because of the cultural and societal framework in a place like Re-Estize, attempting to recruit military forces is not only expensive, but the recruiter also tends to end up with the dregs of society.”

“I’m not sure if I’d call the Imperial Knights ‘dregs’,” Miss Gran said. “Even if they recruit spares and vagrants in urban centres, the army’s training will turn them into functional soldiers.”

“Yes and no,” Ludmila said. “The Imperial Army is an evolution of the Empire’s martial aristocracy, whose members have transformed the military from an institution of the rural elite – as it is in Re-Estize – to one of the state as a whole. They have done exceedingly well in building it into what it currently is, but several schisms are still present. For instance, there is a clear divide between martial aristocrats, landed Imperial Knights, and the common rank and file.

“Imperial scions enter the Imperial Army as officers under the assumption that their education and upbringing qualify them for a position of authority. This is, for the most part, true, but it can serve as a barrier for talented commoners who join the Imperial Army through regular recruitment. Instead of immediately becoming an officer and focusing on a career as a Commander – like General Ray did – a commoner spends years or even decades as an infantryman before becoming a Sergeant. From there, it may take just as long to become a Captain. Rising to Commander as a commoner through conventional means is practically unheard of in the Imperial Army even though the majority of the army is made up of commoners. To further stress my point, every single General in the Imperial Army was born and raised as a Noble.”

“I hadn’t considered it along those lines,” Miss Gran crossed her arms over her midriff with a thoughtful look. “But is that any reason to raise Commanders purely as Commanders like my lady is doing with Raul and Olga?”

“Yes,” Ludmila nodded. “There is no need for a backline Commander to train as a frontline combatant. Limits exist for what most people can achieve, and it is hardly prudent or fair to squander a child’s potential for the sake of tradition or flawed ‘common sense’. I believe that the most common argument for the traditional approach the Imperial Army takes is that officers need to be soldiers before they can command them, but the specific concerns that the argument underscores can be addressed through alternative means.”

Assuming the vast majority of individuals were ‘capped at gold’, so to speak, becoming an exceptional Commander as a commoner in the Imperial Army was a nigh-impossible task. A spare recruited from an urban centre might have one or two levels in civilian Job Classes and then gain several levels in a warrior class while serving in an infantry role. This was in line with the notion that Veteran Imperial Knights were comparable to Silver-rank Adventurers, so commoners who aspired to become Commanders only had a handful of levels to squeeze in the relevant Job Class Levels by the time they were promoted to positions of leadership.

This meant there was simply no way for them to compete with people like General Ray, who would have triple to quadruple the Commander Class Levels, if not more. No amount of familiarity with what life as a rank-and-file soldier was like could make up for the slew of Skills and Abilities that a powerful Commander could bring to bear on the battlefield.

In the ill-conceived notion that people of merit could be whatever they wished to be so long as they applied themselves, the Empire guaranteed that none of their common folk could be at their best outside of the vocation that they were born into. Since the economics of the region disincentivised the pursuit of high civilian Job Class Levels, even that only rarely occurred.

“So the Imperial Army,” Miss Gran said, “or, rather, the Imperial Administration lowers the challenges faced by recruitment efforts by…normalising the notion that anyone can become an Imperial Knight through its propaganda?”

“That is correct,” Ludmila said. “The Imperial Army has evolved to serve the Empire’s needs, thus they can train functional soldiers as you have mentioned. Ultimately, however, they cannot break out of the mould of imperial society – all they can do is work within its constraints. A sort of staircase to generational advancement has been developed: commoners who render exceptional service become landed Imperial Knights. Landed Imperial Knights raise children who gain some of the advantages that martial scions enjoy, with parents passing down the skills, knowledge, and connections that they’ve cultivated as career soldiers. As the cycle repeats itself from generation to generation, the Empire eventually ends up with new martial lineages that produce scions who can achieve what their ancestors could not.”

“So much for being a meritocracy,” Raul mumbled.

“The Empire has twisted the term quite a bit,” Ludmila smirked. “The Imperial Army is one of the better scenarios, where a form of ‘generational merit’ can be achieved, which is ironically the very thing the Emperor has been dismantling in the civilian aristocracy. They also do not recruit commoners by asserting that they can rise to the top of an Army Group, instead presenting what is achievable and the benefits of attaining those levels of achievement, which are attractive to many. For the vast majority of its citizens, however, meritocracy is an idea that the Imperial Administration propagates to encourage everyone to take personal risks on behalf of the Empire at no real cost to the Empire. Those who fail in that effort are treated no differently from a pile of refuse, and the fact that they fail is rationalised as a personal failure and quickly forgotten by society at large.”

“At least they’re doing better than Re-Estize,” Miss Gran said.

“They are,” Ludmila agreed. “Re-Estize’s martial institutions never advanced beyond a multitude of house traditions. Now, they are paying the price for their stagnation. This is, however, the same dilemma that you are facing now, Miss Gran.”

The seneschal straightened in her seat with a surprised look.

“Dilemma? Me?”

“You are leveraging institutions that are even more primitive than those of the local Human nations,” she told her. “Ones that are so deeply entrenched that they are natural to your subjects. You have already mentioned your misgivings about being able to have the Goblins assume specialised roles because their regular behaviour tends to have them diversify their skillsets.”

“I have said that,” Miss Gran said, “but, at the same time, I never considered it a problem problem. The Goblins seem satisfied with what they have as it is.”

“Should you not wish for your subjects to achieve the greatest degrees of success?”

“Maybe that’s a part of the issue,” the seneschal sighed. “I haven’t devised any tangible metrics to measure their progress with because so many of them appeared in such a short period. It may take years to figure it out. Actually, frontier territories in the Empire do take years or even decades to become productive by the Imperial Administration’s standards. The pace in the Sorcerous Kingdom is just ludicrous.”

“Be that as it may,” Ludmila said, “this is something you should address. We may criticise Re-Estize for becoming stagnant, but these wilderness tribes have been stagnant for far longer. You are among the first to offer them a way forward.”

“Wow, no pressure,” Miss Gran said. “But, even if you say so, I don’t have a clue what this ‘way forward’ is. My lady has fought a Goblin army before – how were they organised?”

Ludmila fell silent for a moment, recalling the intelligence reports from the previous summer.

“In terms of their Goblins,” she said, “the Goblin army that invaded the Upper Reaches last summer was not any better organised than you are here. I would even go so far as to say it was worse. They formed specialised roles by race: Hobgoblins served as officers and elite heavy infantry and Bugbears were used as shock troops. Regular goblins were treated as everything from light infantry to servants who shouldered most of the army’s logistical burdens. Of course, that included randomly becoming mobile snacks when provisions ran low.”

“That’s horrible!”

“That was just how it was,” Ludmila shrugged, “and I presume this is what your Goblins expect under you.”

“But I never said anything of the sort!” Miss Gran protested, “Grr…now I feel all sorry for them. Still, how do I enact any sort of change? Everything that they do seems instinctual and my efforts to educate them are slow at best.”

“It is probably not as difficult as it seems, but I will not ruin your fun. Anyway, we should return to Warden’s Vale before it gets too late. Thank you for entertaining us, Miss Gran.”

“It’s a pleasure to be of service, Lady Zahradnik.”

“Oh, before I forget…did you read the diary entry I dropped off the other day?”

“I did!” Miss Gran grinned, “It really is like a Bard’s tale. I can’t believe Elena got married to the Crown Prince! They’re even expecting their first child. She was just a girl from the country and everything.”

“What did you think of, erm, everything else?”

She quickly discovered that Miss Gran was just as obsessed with romance as Liane. The both of them became singularly focused on the topic and its related developments once they caught its scent.

“It’s quite fantastical,” the seneschal said. “Never mind the details of the wedding, even her everyday life has so many advancements that it makes my head spin. It’s like she lives in the Empire that people outside of the Baharuth Empire imagine it to be. So many different races live in the city, as well. It feels far more like a true Empire than anything we have in the present day.”

“I thought so, as well,” Ludmila agreed. “It makes me wonder if countries elsewhere in the world achieved a similar level of advancement at the same time and whether they have been building off of it since however long ago these diary entries were written.”

“I can’t imagine what that might be like in the present day. Maybe they’d have ships and castles that fly in the air. Do you think they’d have gone to the moon by now?”

Queen Oriculus did mention some things along those lines when they were discussing the navigational beacon installed at Eastwatch. At first, she thought that the Queen was simply being whimsical, but, after reading more of Elena Gran’s diary, Ludmila decided that there was a strong possibility her musings were true.

“My question would be why we have not seen any sign of that sort of progress,” Ludmila said. “I understand that we are considered some sort of savage backwater by the rest of the world, but we are still connected to the rest of the world by trade. As far as I know, Merchants tend to not care what goods they handle so long as handling them is worth the risk.”

“The Empire’s markets occasionally do see weird things from the east,” Miss Gran replied. “There isn’t anything too crazy, though. Imperial artisans have even reverse-engineered some of it, but it’s all so uninteresting that very little results from the effort. The best you might see is something along the lines of a ‘desk fan’ or a ‘fridge’. My guess is that we get the stuff that no one else wants since we’re on the very fringe of a continental trade route.”

“I have heard that rationale before,” Ludmila said as she rose from her chair, “but that should not stop people from going out to get some wondrous bit of technology or even information about advancements abroad. Governments should be especially keen on doing that.”

“You’re not wrong,” Miss Gran rose to accompany them to the village harbour. “Maybe there are measures in place to stop advanced technology from falling into the hands of ‘barbarians’, or maybe governments have gotten their hands on it and have all sorts of secret projects running to exploit the technology to their advantage.”

Somehow, Ludmila didn’t think the latter was the case. New goods and technology weren’t the only things that came with commerce and it was new concepts and ways of thinking that held the greatest value. The latter two were far harder to stop from spreading.

I suppose it is a mystery that will be unravelled when we get there.

And the Sorcerous Kingdom would get there, eventually. But, first, it had to get its own house in order.