At a moment like this, I wished that my butler was here to advise me. But travel to the other side of the continent wasn’t quick or easy, even with today’s modern means of transportation. I was on my own for a week or so, and I couldn’t afford to sit around twiddling my thumbs. A decision had to be made and by the Stars, I was the man to make it!
“Get your coat, Archibald. We’re going to the Institute,” I said, interrupting a third explanation on how inflation worked.
“Excellent!” the accountant said, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Things have been so quiet around here, it’s time we get some excitement!”
“Quiet? Where have you been?”
“I meant some exciting paperwork,” he explained. “Nothing for me to do other than keep track of our pitiful vineyard’s expenses.”
With a shrug, I turned and left the accountant’s office, making my way down the western wing of the Manor. As I hurried to get my things, Lily emerged from one of the side doors, carrying a large basket of fruit in her hands.
“Oh, Master!” she said, smiling wide at the sight of me. Though I had surprised her with my presence, I was well received. Damn, I must say that…the way she always smiled at me, the way she lit up upon recognizing that it was me, made me feel…wanted. Was that simply professional courtesy? Or something else? Hard to tell when you’re the employer, I guess. And I certainly didn’t dare make a move first, for fear of impropriety. Lily was a wonderful woman, but still someone under my command. If I made her uncomfortable, she might not tell me, out of fear of being punished in a professional sense. It was the duty of a gentleman, I knew, to always be aware of one’s station and to avoid impropriety because of it.
These many thoughts ran through my head at once, so fast that I could barely splutter a “hello,” to her.
“You seem to be on a mission, so I’m sorry to interrupt. But these came for you.”
“The fruit?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. Lily handed the large basket over to me.
“Yes, sir! Our neighbors to the west, the Frankinsons wanted to congratulate us on entering the Great Game.”
I glanced at the basket. There was an assortment of bananas, apples, oranges and pears. All delicacies in this part of the world.
“Oh, how wonderful,” I said.
“No doubt the first of many, sir,” she said, clasping her hands together, her smile bigger than I had ever seen.
“Great, well, put it in my office, I guess. I’m about to leave for business.”
Lily’s smile faded just a little. She cleared her throat, as if expecting me to say something.
“Or…does this need to be placed in a cellar? Does fruit need to be cold?” I asked.
“Sir, your uncle had a habit of giving whatever gifts he received to the staff of the house,” Lily said. “Because, well, he’s rich and we’re not…” She trailed off at that.
“Ohhhhhhh,” I said, going red with embarrassment. I absolutely should have thought of the staff first here. I quickly handed the basket right back to Lily. “Please, see to it that the staff enjoys these!” Internally I was groaning because, like I said before, these fruits were not common in our part of the world. No doubt a basket like that cost a few hundred silver.
“You are so sweet, Master,” Lily said, taking the basket and bowing to me. “Best of luck on your business today!” And with that, she was quick to take the pear I had been eyeing and bite right into it as she walked off, whistling a little in between bites. Somehow, I felt that she knew exactly what to say to get that fruit basket all to herself.
Chapter 15
Our horseless carriage began to shriek as we reached our destination. It had begun making such a hideous noise upon stopping, but since the vehicle did not explode nor burst into flames, I paid the noises no mind. In the lab we called anything that wasn’t on fire a success, no matter how much of a cacophony it made.
“We really should get a mechanic to look at that,” Archibald grumbled as we climbed out of the carriage. “One of these days it’s going to explode.”
“Eh, the crystal is stable, we’ll be fine,” I said, slamming the carriage door behind me. The sky above was rather grey and there were few people out on the street. The city of Juniper was usually a bustling hub of trade, construction and all manner of activity, but today it seemed quiet and sleepy. Perhaps it was the incoming storm that encouraged everyone to stay at home. Or maybe it was the fact that it was six in the morning on the weekend. Either way, the Institute was open, and we had an appointment with the Chief Minister of War and Finance.
“Now, I shouldn’t have to mention it,” Archibald said as we strolled up the great white steps leading to the building made of solid brass. “But don’t give away any information about your position, enemies, allies, etc. The Institute has no loyalties and has a reputation for being quite gossipy. The more you give them, the more they will spread around.”
“So are these the people in charge of regulating the laws of the Great Game?” I asked as we approached a massive statue made of the same bronze material as the building. The statue was of one of the Queen’s Men, in a great cloak, holding a sword in one hand and a gavel in the other.
“Indeed. If you have a complaint, you come here. If you have a question or need help with some technical issues, you come here. And if you are ready to surrender your title back to the Crown in order to leave the Great Game, you come here,” Archibald explained.
That last bit stopped me in my tracks. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? About surrendering my title?”
My accountant looked at me squarely, confused at my own confusion. “You are aware that once involved in the game, you can’t leave without abdicating your title and your land, correct?” he asked.
I had not been aware of that at all. I felt a creeping sense of dread run down my spine and settle at my stomach. I knew most everyone participated in the game to avoid assassination attempts. But…this was for life? No wonder Lily was so upset about my choice. Had Sigmund known this was the case? I doubt he would have told me, even if he had known.
He had pushed me to join this Great Game because he knew the stakes. That my life and that of my little sister were in grave danger. Frankly, losing a title wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. And that was only if I chose to voluntarily surrender.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as we reached the glass doors leading to the interior of the building.
A golem was standing before the entrance, hands clasped together. This was one of the latest models in golem development, known as a Servitor. They were covered in flesh, looking almost human, with the exception of their severe thickness. This one was six feet tall, with arms as big as boulders.
“State. Appointment,” it wheezed out.
“I wish the Stars would strike these abominations down,” Archibald whispered as he huddled behind me, clutching my arm like a child. “They aren’t natural.”
“Of course not, they’re better than nature. They’re manmade!” I said, grinning. There were always going to be people standing in the way of progress. Today our Servitors looked like freaks, sure, but in a few years? Why, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a regular person and a golem! The applications for spycraft would be limitless then!
“We are here to see the Chief of War and Finance,” I said.
The golem wheezed, its pale flesh throbbing as it tried to comprehend my words. “Understood. Floor 3. Office 8,” it said after almost a minute of thought.
“See? A perfectly executed function,” I said. “Nothing to fear. Now, come, let’s meet the Chief Minister.”
“A secretary would do the exact same job, but with the added bonus of not terrifying anyone,” Archibald grumbled. The golem opened the door for us, and we quickly entered the building. Navigating wasn’t particularly hard, for there was a circular stairwell in the center, followed by a series of signs indicating which direction the office nu
mbers were located. Within two minutes, we were at the Chief Minister’s office.
“Now don’t sign anything without letting me take a look,” Archibald said as he raised a knuckle to the door, looking at me expectantly. I nodded, giving him the go ahead to knock.
“Come in, come in,” came a voice on the other end. It was gruff and stern, delivered by the kind of man who undoubtedly came from a working background. I don’t know why I felt that way, but it was hard to imagine any nobleman speaking with such a gruffness.
We opened the door and entered a rather spacious office. Billows of cigar smoke assailed us, causing poor Archibald to begin coughing quite violently. I, on the other hand, was quite used to large amounts of smoke and barely noticed it, other than the strong tobacco scent.
The office itself was divided into two parts. The first was a lounge of sorts, with two large beige sofas sitting in the center, a globe of the world and a few tables filled to the brim with all manner of alcohol decanters. Clearly, this was the spot for entertaining high-level officials. Perhaps even the Queen herself would visit such an office.
The second section was more business oriented, with a great mahogany desk, so tall that it nearly came up to my chest. It was only when I approached the desk that I realized the floor itself was sloped upwards, making the desk a little less imposing. No doubt the design was intentional, so that the Chief Minister could tower above those who came in.
The man behind the desk was tall, burly and a bit portly, with a big black mustache and long mutton chops that fell just a few inches short of connecting to his facial hair. His cheeks were bright red, as if he had been drinking, but it also might be due to the coldness of the office. Though it was in the mid-80s outside, his office was freezing cold. No doubt a mana gem was somewhere in the building, pumping out frozen air.
“Ahhhhh, you must be Richard Blake!” the Chief Minister said, standing at attention. His military uniform immediately caught my eye as he fully stood, the medals shining in the light of the lantern hanging from the ceiling. With that many rewards he was most likely a retired soldier, or perhaps a general of some sort.
“Sir,” I said, putting my fist to my chest in the standard Crown salute. He did not bother to respond with the proper reply gesture and instead merely pointed to the chair beside me and then the bottle of whiskey on his desk.
“Sit and have a drink. Let’s talk business,” he said, dropping right back into his chair, all pretense of formality vanishing in a single moment. Immediately I knew exactly what kind of job this was. It was the cushy retirement job that was fought for amongst military men. An easy job with steady pay, but enough work to keep the mind from going numb. Hence why he was drinking so damn early.
With a shrug, I sat too and graciously accepted the liquor in question. It was too damn cold to protest such an offering.
Archibald sat beside me and eagerly grabbed a cup of his own, chugging the amber liquid down before we could even toast. This did not seem to faze the Minister.
“So, Mister…” I said, searching for a name plate on his desk, but unable to find one.
“Frederick Knome,” he said, stretching a hand out to shake mine. His grasp was firm and strong, though cautious as to not try and turn the handshake into a strength competition (a competition I would surely lose, mind you!)
“Mr. Fredrick, I am new to the Great Game and am here on official business,” I said.
“Indeed, your moneyman sent a messenger yesterday. You’re looking for a starter loan? Tell me first, why join the game now? My records have no indication that the Blake household has ever served in such a manner! It’s rare to see a gentry, of all things, just jump in.”
I glanced at Archibald, who was on his second glass of whiskey. Though he was in his cups already, he subtly shook his head ‘no’, indicating for me to play my hand close to the vest. “I have my reasons,” I said.
“Reasons you wish to keep confidential?” Frederick said with a laugh. “Well, far be it from me to try and pry. My job isn’t to give you the third degree. Was just curious, is all.” He shifted in his seat, took a drink and changed the subject. “So, since you’re new, let me give you the run down on how the loan works. The Crown has put aside a large endowment to assist newcomers to the Great Game, as a means of encouraging them to participate, as opposed to getting involved in the nasty business of real war.”
Ah, so the Crown was funding this? That made sense. He continued. “I’m sure you’re aware that with the development of the Gentleman’s Wars, we’ve done away with the horror of conventional warfare. Golems, Stars bless them, have been the solution to mankind’s greatest need: the need to kill one another for sport and for conquest. My office is here to ensure that we keep things civil. Since the implementation of this system, our nation has prospered unlike any other.”
“Is that so?” I asked, leaning back in my seat, glass in hand. I was sipping on the whiskey, being careful enough to let this drink last the conversation. I wanted to keep my wits about me, but it was considered quite rude to not drink with a military man.
“Indeed. Right now, fourteen different vassals of the Crown are fighting each other! And the peasantry walks freely! Farms grow their food without worry of hordes of goons coming in to pillage, wagons roll the streets unworried and our population is booming, since we no longer lose our youth to the foolishness of warfare. We have done the unthinkable. We tamed warfare itself. And the Crown wants to keep it that way. So, as long as everyone follows the rules, feel free to invade your neighbor! Get into a spite fight lasting four generations with a barony! Dedicate your entire life to war if you like. We don’t care. As long as real blood isn’t shed, all you’re doing is making Malphius richer and he, in turn, spends that money on more innovations. Everyone wins.”
“Except for the losers,” I said.
Frederick paused and cracked a wide grin. I could see he had not one but three silver teeth, all shining in the light. “Even they win, when you think of it. Back in the old days, you killed people with claims to land. Just rounded ‘em up and hacked their heads off. Including the children! So, you and your family just have to leave and become peasants, oh the horrors!” he chuckled to himself. “Anyway, so my job is to ensure that everyone is happy. If you have a complaint, you address my office, and they’ll look into it.”
I frowned a little, unsure if I should inquire about the assassinations that had taken place before I joined the game. It was a salacious bit of gossip to share, but what if this man could look into it? Or at the very least, point me towards someone who could help? Damn, what would Sigmund suggest?
“There is the matter of crimes taken against my family before I joined the Great Game,” I said. “Could you aid me with such a matter?”
Frederick shook his head. “Afraid not. You’ll have to get in line for that one. An audience before the Queen is the only thing that could get her to assist you, since I assume you don’t have the names of the criminals who grieved you?”
I sighed but said nothing. It was worth a try. “So your office only handles the affairs of the war. I understand. Tell me about the terms of the loan.”
“The Crown is willing to provide a starting sum of 15,000 silver to a gentry such as yourself,” Frederick said, his voice calm and nonchalant. I tried to keep my eyes from bugging out of their socket. Fifteen thousand? More than enough to secure the Manor. Why, I could even protect the Vineyard as well! Unbelievable.
“And the terms?” I asked.
“They are quite generous. In recognition that by participating in the Great Game, you are vowing to never take up arms against your fellow men, the Crown has guaranteed the loan, so you are not required to pass any kind of credit checks. Your books may remain closed to us, we don’t care. The interest rate is likewise generously set at a fixed rate of only 2 percent per year.”
Perhaps my eyes would pop themselves out of my head. “Two percent? Are you serious?”
“Don’t start dreaming about buying the latest Malphius luxury cruiser just yet,” Frederick said, waving a hand dismissively. “There are restrictions. First, we put a guy in your office. He monitors your spending accordingly. You can only spend this money on towers. And only towers! A lot of you folks think you can be cheeky and buy up structures that’ll boost your income. That is a flagrant violation of the terms and can lead to forfeiture of property.”
“Perish the thought,” I said.
“And last, but not least, you are required to always select Renumeration when you have won a defensive battle,” Frederick explained. “And the earned funds go straight to repay the loan.”
“So I can’t make any money until I’ve paid back the Crown…” I murmured.
“Indeed! Simple enough, is it not? You pay little interest, but in exchange, you have strong limitations on what you can spend. And you pay us back as quickly as possible. But hey, you’ll empower your territories greatly! So what’s not to like?”
I glanced at Archibald, who was grinning at me. Or perhaps he was just grinning because he was most certainly buzzed. “Well?” I whispered.
“It’s all straightforward. No fine print. The Crown is trustworthy,” Archibald said, commanding a surprising clarity in his words. I guess he wasn’t drunk after all.
Should I take the full amount? 15,000 was quite a lot to pay back. And my own calculations had been 10,000. If I could pay back at my leisure it would be one thing, but having to pay out every time I won a battle could end up rather costly, especially if I had other needs to take care of at the time. I shouldn’t get greedy and ask for more than I had accounted for.
Gentleman's Wars: The Rules of Engagement: A Tower Defense LitRPG Series (The Great Game Book 1) Page 9