Chapter 345 — A Wise Move
Blade of Dawn · Page 3 of 4
"Kant Territory will establish a new administrative department, something akin to a second-tier civil affairs office. Sir Philip and Mr. Padrick will oversee this work, and I hope Sir Wald Perrich will serve as its pillar in the process—just as you maintained order in Kant Territory some months ago, I hope you will also become a maintainer of the new order.
"I would also take this opportunity to remind everyone present: find your place in the new order, rather than mourning privileges doomed to be lost. That is the wise course.
"Now—you may swear your oath, or you may leave."
In Cecil Territory, on the banks of the Whitewater River, a new merchant ship was easing toward the pier with the help of a dock guide.
In the north of the kingdom, the major rivers were still in severe low water; the sources high in the mountains remained frozen, and the northern stretches of river were still thick with drift ice. But in the kingdom's Southland, in this region nearest the Gondor Wastes, the ice that had sealed the river channels had already melted. Though the high-water season was still far off, at least on the Whitewater River the lighter, fleeter merchant vessels were stirring back to life.
Riding the water level that had only just begun to rise, those merchants who had waited out the whole winter lost no time in setting their trade in motion. The Month of Revival was not only the revival of the fields, but the revival of these merchants who roamed north and south, living by buying cheap and selling dear. At this time every territory was in urgent need of goods from afar—though in most cases the self-sufficient farming households would have no dealings with such merchants; these men dealt chiefly with the wealthy and noble of the territories, bringing wine, sugar, new carpets and cloth, spices and furs, all things the rich urgently desired.
All these could fetch a higher price at this time of year.
For the Whitewater's waters were still shallow, and in many places dangerous drift ice still floated on the surface. The first merchant ships to set out had to bear greater risk, and the earlier the venture, the greater the risk—yet driven by profit, there is always someone bold enough to be first out of port.
Each territory needed different goods, and Cecil Territory was perhaps the "most different" of them all. Here there was little demand for wine and spices; rather, there was an enormous demand for all manner of magical ores and raw metals. Such goods were heavy, costly to transport overland, and so for the most part went by water. And thanks to the booming trade in alchemical potions, any merchant with a head on his shoulders knew that Cecil Territory was flush with money at present. Thus the moment the river opened, ships heavy with magical ore arrived at Cecil's docks.
And along with the ore came the first new settlers to reach this frontier territory after the arrival of the Month of Revival.
The clerk in charge of registering immigrants sat in the office on the west side of the docks. He had been doing this work since last year and was long since practiced at it. Learning that today's merchant ship had also carried some settlers, he readied the registration forms and began recording these outlanders who could not read a word, who could not even state their own names clearly.
One ragged registrant after another came in and went out; the clerk sorted the forms and filled in the entries with practiced indifference—but suddenly he noticed an unusual coat come into view.
It was a woolen coat—worn, yet clean and neat. That was not the attire of a homeless vagrant.
The clerk raised his head, following the seams of that woolen coat upward with his gaze, and saw a man down on his luck but of passable complexion.
"Is this where I register?" the man asked cautiously.
"Yes," the clerk said, reflexively pulling out a form. "Name, age, work you're skilled at or former occupation?"
"Joseph, thirty, apothecary."