Chapter 672 — The Age of Harvest

"To His Majesty," Viscount Hemir laughed pleasantly. He took up the black tea from the little round table and raised it slightly in place of fine wine, then frowned again. "This newspaper business really is excellent... They say the Cecil people of the Kingdom of Ansu thought of it first. A pity that when I first heard the notion I failed to grasp its use, so that a merchant of no taste or depth like Pohlberg became the Gazette's first investor... All those lords of the noble council must now pay that merchant before they can advertise their wares. What a sum of money that is!"

"There is no end to money, Viscount," Daniel said mildly. "Exploring new things is worth more than that."

"Ah, you are quite right," Viscount Hemir hastened to smooth the complaint from his brow, as though fearful that this "worldly behavior" might put off the wise old man before him. "I have always been keen on exploring new things—take the magic-energy train now under construction, for instance. I am considering investing in it..."

"The train... Ansu technology, but it does indeed have investment value," Daniel said with a slight frown, as though faintly displeased to speak of new technologies even he could not master, yet he nodded all the same. "If you mean to invest, you had best move quickly."

Viscount Hemir caught the deeper meaning in his words. "Is someone else competing?"

Daniel nodded slightly. "I have a bit of gossip—don't spread it about. I hear the southern nobles are set on seizing a share in the two railways under construction. To that end they have even banded together to raise funds, and borrowed a great sum from Duke Severn—a sum that could move His Majesty."

Viscount Hemir was taken aback, then suddenly flushed with anger. "Those coarse southerners! They want a hand in everything!"

"There is nothing to be done about it, my friend," Daniel said with an even countenance, calmly dissecting the flow of vast interests as a true scholar would, his own heart untouched by gain. "The southern nobles have already taken a heavy loss over cotton. Plantations are springing up everywhere in the north, and the cotton they planted last year remains unsold this year—and now the Cecil people come to build railways. If the southern nobles fail to seize this chance as well, they truly will never recover."

"The railway... the railway... the railway must not fall into the hands of those southerners!" Viscount Hemir was a very clever man, and being keen on exploring new things, he was well informed about the latest and most fashionable developments, and naturally understood their value. "If they truly gain control of the north-south railway—even if it is only a certain priority within the limits of His Majesty's license—then the transport on that line will be theirs to command! His Majesty would never show favor to the north in a matter like this!"

"Indeed. Then they will have solved their problem of inconvenient transport, which was the chief reason southern cotton lost out in last year's competition," Daniel helped him analyze. "Once the matter of transport costs is solved or reduced... you know as well as I, Viscount, that by climate and soil, southern cotton in both quality and yield is indeed superior to northern. The northern plantations cannot possibly compete."

"By the name of the god of commerce! I have only just put a great deal of money into Count Duler's plantation! And I brought several friends in with me!" Viscount Hemir could not help raising his voice, and his noble composure was very nearly shattered. "God! How could Duke Severn lend money to those southerners?"

"Duke Severn runs a bank, and a bank cannot refuse a lawful and legitimate loan," Daniel could not resist reminding him. "Besides, you know as well as anyone that Duke Severn's lady wife is herself of southern birth... He would not dare offend that formidable woman."

"That is precisely why I have no wish to marry—it would ruin a gentleman's dignity!" Viscount Helmir rose to his feet and paced back and forth with considerable agitation, then abruptly halted before Daniel. "My apologies, Master, but it seems I must cut this meeting short—this matter cannot wait. My own losses are of no consequence, but I have no intention of bearing a partner's wrath."

"I understand how you feel," Daniel said, rising as the artificial nerve cords behind him writhed and retracted. "And I should be taking my leave as well—my apprentice is waiting outside. Before I go, however, I would suggest you consult with Count Duler—his connections in the council will produce a far better result."

"Thank you for the reminder—you are truly my mentor and my friend," Viscount Helmir stepped forward and seized Daniel's hand, pumping it up and down. "Were it not for you, I cannot imagine how many detours I would have taken!"

Daniel smiled faintly and accepted the reformist nobleman's gratitude with composure. Then he beckoned toward the coat rack beside him, summoning his staff and robe to fly into his hands and settle upon his body of their own accord, and took his leave of the viscount's residence.

He reached the roadside and climbed into the carriage waiting there. His apprentice Mary sat inside, looking as though she had never left.

A moment later, a carriage bearing a crest drove out through the front gate of Viscount Helmir's mansion and hurried off into the distance.

—Although Typhon's magical-drive technology had already achieved a breakthrough, and practical vehicles had entered the sight of the upper nobility, their priority supply to the military and industrial construction meant they had not yet spread among the lower and middle nobility; for most nobles, the carriage remained the transport of choice.

Daniel watched the street through the gap in the carriage window, a faint smile on his face.

Mary noticed that smile and could not resist asking, "Mentor, you seem pleased?"

"Because I have done our Emperor Augustus a favor..."

"Done His Majesty a favor?" Mary looked rather puzzled.

"Yes," Daniel said softly. "I helped him take a few detours..."