Valkyrie's Shadow

Before the Storm: Act 4, Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Your presence has grown considerably from when I first met you.”

“Hehe…really?” Xoc placed a paw over her maw in embarrassment, “I guess all of that studying paid off. Somehow, I just knew the right thing to say when the time came.”

“That’s how it usually is,” Winter Moon said, “but most people I know put far too much thought into it.”

Xoc wasn’t sure what that meant, but she took Winter Moon’s words to heart and didn’t put too much thought into it.

A day after their visit to nar Tamal, Xoc and her party strolled through the familiar undergrowth of ocelo Pa’chan on their way back to her clanhold. Overall, the talks with the neighbouring tribe had gone well – far better than she could have ever hoped.

“Where were you, by the way?” Xoc asked. “I don’t think I saw you at all while we were with them. Were you trying to avoid attention, or did some old ruin catch your attention on the way?”

“I was standing behind you most of the time.”

Xoc felt her fur rise in reaction to Winter Moon’s response. She knew that her guest bore her no Ill will, but she couldn’t help but succumb to the sense of dread that came with the idea that a hopelessly powerful predator had been stalking her unseen.

“In that case,” Xoc tried to shake off the feeling, “what do you think of what nar Tamal mentioned?”

“About what?”

“The ancient accord thing. You’re studying the history of Rol’en’gorek, right?”

“Among other things. As you mentioned, it made sense that the local warrior clan counted the tribes around it as tributaries in the past. That’s how it tends to work.”

“And we should put that history to work for us,” Chimali said. “If the other tribes nearby remember that we once ruled here, it will make it much easier to go ahead with our plans. Just look how smoothly things went with nar Tamal.”

“I don’t know…” Xoc said, “We may have been strong enough to act as a warrior clan in the past, but not right now. It’s obvious that they’re seeking protection with how bad things are getting.”

“Or maybe they capitulated out of fear,” Winter Moon said.

“Huh?” Xoc looked up at Winter Moon, “What are you talking about? I didn’t threaten them in the slightest.”

“You threatened them by existing. Nar Tamal doesn’t stand a chance against a warrior clan. It was either trade and prosper or refuse and suffer. The candy and the whip, as they say. Or is that carrot and stick? Fish and claw?”

“But we’re nothing like a warrior clan yet,” Xoc protested. “And we’re certainly in no position to threaten people. Not that I want to.”

“They don’t know that. All they had were their own preconceptions. Now that you’ve subjugated them, those preconceptions have become expectations.”

“Ugh…”

The last thing she needed was another set of expectations to shoulder. What would happen if nar Tamal found out that her clan wasn’t strong at all?

“I still think it’s a good idea,” Chimali said. “The warrior clans might not consider us as one of their equals, but we are still far stronger than any single pastoral tribe, if only by numbers alone. We have the opportunity to seize the entire area before anyone realises that we aren’t as strong as they think, and by then our numbers and tribal ties will make us too strong for anyone else to deny.”

Xoc knew where he was coming from and that his suggestion had a good chance of working, but she still didn’t like the idea. They

would be promising something that they didn’t have the means to deliver, and people would be relying on those promises.

“We should discuss it with the others when we get back,” she said. “I’m so hungry that I can’t think properly.”

They arrived at the clanhold just before sunset and Xoc went straight home to rest before dinner. Her father greeted her as she entered.

“Welcome back, Enxoc,” he rose and went to fetch a gourd of water. “How did it go?”

“They agreed to our proposal,” Xoc replied. “But it felt too easy. Actually, do you know anything about our clan’s history? Beyond what you’ve already shared with me, I mean.”

Her father came over to place the gourd of water below the stone alcove where she usually slept.

“I’m afraid not,” he wiped his paws on a bit of cloth. “If I learned anything more from the previous generations, I’ve long forgotten it. Maybe Winter Moon can help you with that? She’s been studying the ruins of the clanhold and the meaning of the carvings upon them.”

“I’ve asked,” Xoc said. “Mitra was studying them, too. She said that the carvings weren’t history at all.”

“So they’re just decorations?”

“No. I’m not sure I understood what she was talking about, but they’re part of a magical enchantment that included every building on top of the clanhold. They tried to activate the magic, but it’s broken just like the old dam.”

“So the entire place was magical,” Itzli spoke in mournful tones as he stared at the floor. “I can only wonder how much was stolen from us by the Demon Gods. The way that our civilisation and history were destroyed seems like an incomprehensible act of spite.”

Xoc didn’t know how to respond, but her father’s words stoked the sense of anger lit deep within her when Saraca and his party made her aware of the past that they had uncovered. It was a frustratingly futile sort of anger, however: the Demon Gods were little more than an event in the distant past and the people of the present could do nothing about it. What’s done was done, to their great sorrow.

A couple of hours later, Xoc awoke to the smell of baked fish. The tantalising aroma drew her out into the court, where she found a feast laid out for the evening’s meeting. Master Leeds was directing a mix of Humans and Beastmen who were running around performing some indecipherable dance as they moved things around the courtyard.

“What’s all this for?” Xoc asked.

“A celebration, of course!” Master Leeds’ grin glistened in the torchlight, “I heard that we successfully negotiated an agreement with nar Tamal.”

“But this is so extravagant. The city is still on its way to starvation.”

In addition to several types of fish from the lake, there was Nug, monkey, and wildfowl in great quantities. The Humans had their own food prepared, as well.

“Nonsense,” Master Leeds said. “Success is to be celebrated. We’ve taken a big step towards solving our problems, haven’t we? Also, this isn’t just for the people who secured success: it’s to show everyone we’re making progress and that good work is rewarded.”

She heard that the warrior clans would feast after great victories, but great victories also meant that there was a lot of food lying around. Rather than argue with the Guildmaster – the food was already prepared anyway – she went to her seat and waited for the rest of the gathering to arrive. It was the usual collection of elders and people from the Merchant Guild, plus a bunch of Humans that Xoc could only assume were present for the Guildmaster’s ‘celebration’. Winter Moon and her companions were present, as well.

A Human woman came to serve her a platter of baked fish. Half of it had been nibbled away before the Xoc felt that there were enough people to begin the meeting.

“Thank you for coming, everyone. Nar Tamal has agreed to our proposal…but the proposal is more than we expected.”

“Chimali filled us in on the details,” Master Leeds said. “Quite frankly, it’s so open-ended that we weren’t sure how to proceed when we heard it.”

“Does that mean we have a problem?” Xoc asked.

“No, it’s just that the Merchant Guild is accustomed to handling trade contracts. Futures and such. Ahem, I won’t bore everyone with the details, but it’s a reminder of how much work is still ahead of us when it comes to bringing commerce up to the Merchant Guild’s standards.”

“What will you do?”

“Write contracts,” Master Leeds shrugged. “Ones that can be understood by the locals. Merchants in Rol’en’gorek are functionally peddlers. They go from market to market, trading whatever they have in their inventory. It’s actually astonishing that you can do it on such a huge scale without figuring out better ways to trade along the way.”

“How do these ‘contracts’ work?” Xoc asked, “Are they anything like the ones you use around the clanhold? With the stone tokens?”

“Conceptually, yes. It’s a good thing that we figured it out since the people around here can’t read or write. We just have to familiarise nar Tamal with the new system of contract tokens…which brings us to the first big question.”

Xoc tensed in her seat, wondering what sort of incomprehensible horror Master Leeds was about to unleash on her.

“Are we trading with nar Tamal,” the Guildmaster asked, “or the Merchants who work in nar Tamal? Or do we plan on doing something else entirely?”

“Uh…I didn’t know we had to pick,” Xoc said. “Does it matter?”

“It does,” Master Leeds bobbed his head. “Whoever controls trade has power over everyone reliant upon it. In this case, trading with nar Tamal as a tribe will give the tribal leadership power over the ranchers, as they control the supply of fodder for the herds. You can apply this sort of dependency to most things.”

“But the tribal leadership already rules the tribe,” Xoc said. “How would that change anything?”

“I’m just pointing things out as I see them,” the Guildmaster said. “Maybe you’re right and nothing will change. The way power is wielded here isn’t as complicated as the Draconic Kingdom.”

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She still wasn’t accustomed to dealing with Humans, but Master Leeds seemed to be holding something back.

“I’d still like to know what you think our options are,” Xoc said.

The Guildmaster’s sense of reservation remained as he spoke. What was the issue?

“Given the circumstances,” he licked his lips, “I feel obliged to point out that any solutions that we settle on aren’t necessarily ideal for the long term. We’re facing a situation that will grow increasingly volatile so long as the food situation continues. In other words, we must assume that people will resort to force out of desperation. Not only does the clanhold require security, but also the entire trade network that we establish.”

“I understand that,” Xoc said. “That’s why I’ve placed such a high priority on training and equipping our warriors.”

“Indeed,” Master Leeds replied. “Order and security must be maintained, and in the city’s situation, only organised groups like your clan are capable of achieving it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Master Leeds reached for his cup, emptying it in a long draught. He remained silent for several moments after putting the vessel back on the table.

“It’s an old problem, I suppose,” he said. “It might be as old as civilisation itself. Lords and Merchants have always been at odds with one another, be it in a tribe, kingdom, confederation, empire, or whatever else. Government in general is conservative: they’re primarily interested in maintaining. Laws. Security. The social order. And it’s necessary, especially in times like ours. Yet, at the same time, it has the effect of holding back progress.”

“I don’t feel that we aren’t progressing,” Xoc said. “If anything, it’s whatever the extreme opposite of that is.”

The Guildmaster chuckled.

“You’re right. But that’s for now. Eventually, you’ll find a comfortable spot and things go from desperately trying to catch up to maintaining the status quo. It’s a regular occurrence in the Draconic Kingdom. After a region gets decimated by raids, the Nobles run back in and rush to get everything up and running. Then, once enough time goes by for things to start looking normal again, their focus shifts to trying to maintain it. Of course, that never works: the raiders come back and clean house, starting the cycle anew.”

“I’m not sure how to apply that to Rol’en’gorek,” Xoc said, “but you’re worried about what happens after this right? Assuming we survive.”

Xoc scanned the faces of the Beastmen in the gathering. The thoughts of most were clear enough: why was the Human worried about trade in the distant future with a devastating famine staring them right in the face?

“That’s right,” Master Leeds replied. “It may seem like a distant concern, but the seeds of the problem are sown in times like these. Lords and their methods become a necessity, which allows them to build a power base that remains long after the problems that they faced are gone. This, in turn, creates a disadvantageous situation for Merchants who wish to see industry and trade continue to grow. Lords establish laws and have a monopoly on the use of violence to enforce their will within their territories. All we Merchants can do is work within those constraints, and I firmly believe that this is detrimental to the growth of a country.”

“But what can we do about that now?” Xoc asked, “As you said, we need the strength of a warrior clan to guard against the worst-case scenario.”

“I’ve been thinking long and hard about that. I believe that the solution is to emulate the Merchant Princes of the Syrillian Way.”

The new term bludgeoned Xoc in the head, threatening to knock out all of the other knowledge she was desperately juggling to make sense of the conversation.

“Who?”

“They’re the legendary lords who dominate trade across the Syrillian Way – the inland sea that runs through the northwestern part of the continent. Rol’en’gorek has actually been dealing with one of them for a long time: the Storm Dragon Lord and Emperor of the Great Lut, Rai’torel=Oxious.”

“Emperor? I thought you said they were princes.”

“It’s sort of a separate title,” Master Leeds said. “I guess they’re called that to denote the fact that they’re rulers who prioritise commerce rather than the usual things that a lord focuses on. The truth is that they can be anything from prodigious Magnates to Emperors. More than a few of them are powerful Heteromorphs who have ruled for centuries or longer.”

“I see…does this have anything to do with what you mentioned about turning the Confederation into an empire the other day?”

“Yeah. We should focus on the practical aspects, though. That’s what brought the Merchant Princes of the Syrillian Way to mind in the first place. The way that they operate is by controlling centres of trade. They’ll build them in ideal locations if there isn’t already one there or take it over if there is…hell, they’ll even buy them outright if they think it’s worth it. Those trading posts are staffed by the prince’s people, including security. Merchants working at the trading post encourage the locals to trade with them.”

“What advantage is there to doing that?” Xoc asked.

“It keeps problems small,” the Guildmaster said. “At least on the prince’s part. A regular lord would try to take over everything and that comes with all the related concerns. As a trading post grows, so does its ability to influence the surrounding lands. What happens after that is up to the prince, but a trading post becoming so economically dominant that it becomes the de facto capital of a region and integrates all of the locals isn’t unheard of. You’ve repeatedly expressed your desire to find a peaceful solution to the city’s problems, and this is the best way I can think of.”

The trading posts did sound like a tidy solution to many of their challenges. Xoc had recommended that nar Tamal move their main village to the border for many of the same reasons. Little did she realise that someone had built empires doing the same thing.

“I can see how this could work,” she said, “but what are the downsides?”

“The main one is that they’re small and isolated at the beginning,” Master Leeds said. “Usually, they’re separated from home by seas or vast stretches of land and help is weeks or even months away. This isn’t a major issue for us since we’re focusing on the city and the area around it. We’re also not an unwelcome presence: people will be more than happy to have a source of food or fodder nearby. All we have to do is set up a market with good security and some tents for the people working there. If the post is successful and there’s no sign of hostility from the locals, then we can build it up into something more permanent.”

Xoc looked over at the clan elders.

“What does everyone think?” She asked.

“Isn’t this too…ambitious?” Her father said, “We were trying to figure out how to get food at the beginning of the week. Suddenly, Master Leeds is encouraging us to build an empire.”

“Not precisely,” the Guildmaster replied. “I merely put forward what I believe to be the most effective way to achieve Enxoc’s goals. It just happens to be so effective that it has given rise to great trade empires. I won’t mince words with anyone here: Rol’en’gorek is in a bad situation. Its warriors are fighting the Undead that have invaded the Draconic Kingdom and now the Jorgulan Commonwealth is invading on the opposite end. To top it all off, this off-season flooding is about to starve millions to death. You say that this plan is ambitious, but any plan to save Rol’en’gorek must be ambitious.”

“I must wonder about your motives,” Winter Moon said. “Until recently, many of the clans of Rol’en’gorek were your enemy–no, your predators. From what I know about Humans, the latter is worse: predators are not considered people, but a threat that must be put down. Why are you so invested in the development of ocelo Pa’chan?”

Low murmurs rose in the wake of Winter Moon’s words. Xoc knew that many harboured the same question, though no one had voiced them in public out of respect for Xoc’s efforts. For the Humans’ part, they knew that Xoc’s people weren’t the clans of the west that raided the Draconic Kingdom, but they were still strangers in a strange land who had fully committed themselves to the rise of ocelo Pa’chan for unknown reasons.

“As a master of the Merchant Guild,” Master Leeds said, “this is what I’m supposed to be doing. Quite frankly, I appreciate the fact that Enxoc and the rest of ocelo Pa’chan have taken my advice to heart since our arrival. On top of that, what I’m doing here helps the Draconic Kingdom. The clans of Rol’en’gorek may have invaded my home, but now they’re fighting the Undead sweeping across the country. If Rol’en’gorek collapses, so will the armies sent to keep the Undead from destroying all life in the Draconic Kingdom. The gods willing, both of our homes will survive and what we’ve built here will serve as a foundation for peace between our peoples.”

“I wonder what the Theocracy would say about that,” Winter Moon said. “Isn’t the Draconic Kingdom their tributary?”

“Yeah, and a fat lot of good that did us,” the Guildmaster replied. “They never came in our time of greatest need. They’re the ones who have failed to fulfil their obligations, so I say it’s time for new allies. If the Draconic Kingdom enters into an amicable relationship with Rol’en’gorek, we won’t need the Theocracy’s protection anyway. The tribute that we pay the Theocracy will be put to better use building new inroads that will actually get us somewhere.”

Despite the Guildmaster’s passionate response, Winter Moon still seemed unconvinced. She knew much more about the world than Xoc did, so it would be prudent to ask her about it in private when she had the chance.

“Long-term objectives aside,” Elder Patli said, “I agree that the method that Master Leeds described is suited for our purposes. Ocelo Pa’chan’s resources are limited and our people are ill-prepared for the more conventional sort of expansion. At the same time, haste is required. We must strike a balance between the immediate survival of our clan and the survival of the people in the region.”

The other elders nodded along with the mystic’s words. From Xoc’s discussion with the Guildmaster, however, she knew that it wouldn’t be enough for him. Maybe it was part of the timeless conflict that he had previously described.

“Let’s set up the first of these trading posts and see how things go,” Xoc said. “What do you have in mind, Master Leeds?”

“To save time and energy,” the Guildmaster replied, “our trading posts should have access to navigable waterways whenever possible. The first set should go upriver.”

“Upriver? As in the river behind the dam?”

“That’s right. We can carry one of our boats up to the lake – that should be more than enough cargo capacity for now. My thought was to open the first market on the border of ocelo Pa’chan’s territory. That way, it can serve as both a market and a guard post. After that, we can extend our economic influence throughout the northernmost valley of the city.”

No one seemed to have any issues with that, so they spent the rest of the night figuring out who and what needed to be delivered to the new trading post. The next morning, they brought together enough Beastmen to bring one of their fifty-metre-long barges past the dam to the lake above. It didn’t take much effort, as the flooding allowed them to sail the ship further up the northern shore before carrying it the rest of the way.

“Make sure you put the paddlewheels back on properly,” Xoc called out. “Anything we break is going to be hard to fix without a shipyard.”

“Speaking of which,” Master Leeds asked, “have you put any thought into the proposal for the new shipyard?”

“Uh, not any more than the idea that it’d be a good idea,” Xoc replied. “I don’t even know what goes into building a shipyard.”

“You can leave that part to our artisans. All we need is your approval and a bit of land. According to Elder Patli, the shoreline recedes quite a bit in the dry season, but the main body of the lake is consistent. Since the flooding of the lake is shallow, we can build a simple, raised drydock that can be used year-round.”

“What about the ‘lock’ thing that you mentioned?”

“That can wait until the flooding recedes,” the Guildmaster said. “As you can see, we can carry new ships down if necessary.”

“I’ll have to speak with Elder Patli and the other mystics about the location,” Xoc said. “For now, let’s focus on what we’re doing in the city.”

Once the ship’s paddle wheels were reinstalled, they boarded the ship and crossed the lake to the opposite shore near the clanhold, where tents, provisions, tools, and parts of furniture were waiting to be loaded. With them would come a dozen Beastmen Merchants, twenty hunters, ten warriors, and the people required to support them. As with their previous trip, no Humans would be present.

“I hope things will go smoothly with this new trading post,” Xoc said. “Aside from the hunters, all of these people are barely trained.”

“I can’t speak for the warriors,” Master Leeds said, “but I could send along some Human staff if you’d like.”

“No, it’s too dangerous. Especially nowadays. People are hungry and they’ve never seen Humans before. Everything feels like it’s constantly on the verge of flying apart as it is. People getting eaten is not something I want to deal with right now. Or ever.”

“That’s what a race against time feels like, I guess,” the Guildmaster said. “The people of the Draconic Kingdom are used to it.”

“Are you sure you don’t hold anything against us?” Xoc asked, “You said what you did yesterday evening, but…”

Master Leeds rose from his bench as they closed with the shore. A group of labourers came forward to secure the ship with ropes tied to some nearby trees.

“It’s no use railing against the way that the world works. Besides, I’m sure that our Queen would want this. She’s sent several delegations to entreat the clans for peace and trade, but I think we’re the first to stay uneaten. Not that we’re an official delegation.”

Xoc’s whiskers twitched at the way that the Guildmaster spoke. It contained emotions that she couldn’t put a claw on.

“Master Leeds,” she said. “This might be a strange question, but where do your loyalties lie?”

The Guildmaster’s answer was immediate.

“With Queen Oriculus, of course,” he smiled.

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