The water lapped against the sides of the flat-bottomed boat as it moved through the reeds.
Even in the midst of this vast wetland, there was still a current here. Reinhold raised his hand, signaling the boatman to stop rowing, and began to mark the direction of the water flow on a map charting the waterways.
“Do you really intend to build a canal here, Reinhold-san?”
Godhart, who was already drinking even though the sun was still high, asked skeptically.
This wetland, a short distance north of the Old Capital, had plenty of water, but there was no record of trading vessels ever passing through.
Local fishermen used it to catch small fish like boruganga, sekko, and bouzugyora, but that was all.
Translator’s Note
Boruganga, sekko and bouzugyora are fictional fish names, probably intended to sound like common, low-value catches like sardines or mackerel.
“I’ve been investigating little by little, and it doesn’t seem impossible.”
“Doesn’t seem impossible, huh? That’s a convenient phrase.”
The one who muttered mockingly was the other passenger on the boat.
Marcel.
He was a master of the textile weavers’ guild and the current chairman of the Old Capital’s council.
There was a reason why three council members had come all the way out here in a flat-bottomed boat. It was to investigate whether a canal could be built in this wetland.
“As I explained the other day, passing through here would be of great benefit to the Old Capital, Marcel-san.”
“Your explanation was logical. But seeing it in person…”
The flat-bottomed boat carrying the three men and the boatman was a small vessel owned by the council for communication purposes. It had a shallow draft, allowing it to navigate shallower waters than trading vessels. Just because this boat could pass through didn’t mean a canal could be established immediately.
“Some dredging will be required. That’s for sure. But the benefits of completion would be significant.”
Reinhold readily admitted that the bottom of the wetland would need to be dug up. It would be a major undertaking. Not impossible, but there were many hurdles to overcome.
“That may be so, Reinhold-san. But what about the manpower? The Old Capital council has some leeway in its coffers thanks to the success of the Grand Market, but gathering manpower will be difficult.”
Marcel, who should have been chosen due to a passive lack of other options, was rapidly gaining experience as a politician. It was due to the environment of the Old Capital. Before the Grand Market at the end of the year, Marcel had met and sometimes negotiated with key figures of the Empire, including the former Emperor. He had been thrown into a bottomless ravine where he had no choice but to grow at his age.
Whether he had talent or not, there was no more ideal political school.
“We’ll use mercenaries.”
“Mercenaries, huh? I didn’t expect that.”
There was a reason why Marcel groaned at Reinhold’s response.
Among the problems currently facing the Old Capital, the issue of mercenaries occupied a very large proportion.
The problem of the Three Northern Territories was resolved, and the witch hunt was prevented.
In the end, the northern part of the Empire was too peaceful.
Once they flowed in, mercenaries would start to move when the fighting stopped. If they were just moving, they would be glad to even pay the departure fee, but some mercenaries did not hesitate to attack small villages to make money on their way out.
“Many mercenaries were originally good citizens. They become mercenaries because they have no work.”
“Giving them work doesn’t guarantee they’ll return to being good citizens. It might just tie the mercenaries to this land.”
“Even if they are tied down, once the canal is complete, the Old Capital will prosper. If it prospers, we can change the way we deal with mercenaries.”
Marcel groaned softly at Reinhold’s words.
He probably understood that if they gave the mercenaries work, some of them would lay down their arms and become farmers or citizens. The reason he couldn’t agree was because Marcel was the chairman of the Old Capital council.
He had to stabilize the Old Capital rather than increase its profits. Reinhold understood well that Marcel feared that if he sought profit carelessly, he would go astray like the previous chairman, Backeshoff.
The canal would generate profit.
The Old Capital, embraced by the eternal Belfrau River, was a city that prospered through water transportation. Since it was built here in the ancient Imperial era, it had been a key point of distribution.
That prosperity was showing signs of decline.
All three councilors on this boat were surely concerned about this.
“Certainly, if we build a canal here, we won’t have to pay river tolls.”
Godhart, who had been lying down with drunken eyes, muttered.
Not only Reinhold, but also Marcel nodded.
Several nobles were enfeoffed along the Belfrau River, which flows north from the Old Capital. Not always financially secure, they had in recent years successively imposed river tolls downstream of the Old Capital.
The payment to each family was not significant, but when combined, it amounted to a surprisingly large sum.
Reinhold, who had primarily dealt with unloading cargo in the Old Capital, had been aware of the problem as a complaint from merchants, but he had only recently come to fully appreciate its severity after becoming involved in the octopus trade himself.
He had appealed to the Imperial Diet about this issue, but the response from the nobles was surprisingly unenthusiastic.
It was natural when he thought about it, as there were few directly controlled Imperial cities like the Old Capital that had seats in the Diet. Since most of the seats were occupied by feudal lords, it was only natural that the discussions would favor the nobility.
Rather, there was even a growing movement to introduce river tolls in their own territories. The cost of maintaining their dignity as nobles was increasing every year, but there was no goose that laid golden eggs.
That’s why a canal was needed.
It wasn’t just because he wanted to buy dried octopus and fish. If goods could be sent to the northern port towns through here, the struggling guilds would be revived.
Because this wetland was unclaimed land. All that could be harvested were small fish and poor-quality peat.
It sounded good to say it was a directly controlled Imperial territory, but the truth was that no one wanted to govern it.
While gaining territory was usually a cause for celebration, this was one of those places that was avoided as a disgrace to future generations.
If a canal were built here and made a fait accompli, this land would eventually be recognized by the Imperial Diet as an annex of the Old Capital. It was that kind of land.
Translator’s Note
A fait accompli is a thing that has already happened or been decided before those affected hear about it, leaving them with no option but to accept it.
“Certainly, if the burden of river tolls is eliminated, the textile guild of the Old Capital will be saved.”
Marcel’s position, as he squeezed out the words, was difficult.
Although he was the chairman of the Old Capital council, he was not the representative of the entire textile guild. He was only the representative of one of the three guilds. He should act as chairman, but he probably didn’t want to be seen as steering profits as a guild master.
“Marcel-san, this is about the benefit of the entire Old Capital.”
“I know that. I’m a native Aitherian, a true child of the Old Capital, after all.”
T/N: Aitherian – Likely a demonym for the people of the Old Capital, derived from its name.
Marcel grasped the hand that Reinhold extended. Enveloping their hands was Godhart’s large, rough palm.
He had won the bet.
Reinhold had a near-certain premonition that Marcel also wanted to agree to the canal project, but the problem was his position as a politician.
The victory was finally confirmed when he described himself as a child of the Old Capital, rather than as the council chairman.
At this rate, the Old Capital would slowly decline.
But there was still time to turn things around.
“…Well, now that Reinhold-san’s agenda is over, it’s our turn.”
Marcel cleared his throat and started to speak.
He was a sly old fox. He pretended to have come along at the invitation of Reinhold and Godhart, but in reality, he had his own secret agenda.
“What is it, Marcel-san? I hope it’s nothing too dangerous.”
“It’s actually good news.”
“Oh, good news is very welcome.”
Godhart sat up, having apparently finished all the alcohol he had brought.
“It’s still a secret, but… there’s been a proposal for a marriage interview to be held in the Old Capital.”
“A marriage interview?”
Marriage interviews were not uncommon. The Old Capital was, as its name suggested, an ancient city, and there were many prestigious inns and restaurants. Nobles holding marriage interviews were an everyday occurrence.
“For Marcel-san to go out of his way to mention it, it must be someone quite important. A marquis, for example?”
When it came to marquises, Godhart was probably thinking of Arnoux Sachsenburg. Considering his age, it wouldn’t be unusual for him to have a marriage interview.
As the lord of the territory adjacent to the Old Capital, he had an influence on the city’s administration. Certainly, there were many things to keep in mind in advance.
“Young Lord Arnoux would make a good husband.”
“…Who said anything about Marquis Sachsenburg?”
“It’s not him, Marcel-san?”
If it was someone less impressive than a marquis, countless noble faces came to mind, but none seemed particularly important.
Just as he was about to feel let down, thinking it had just been an exaggeration, Marcel muttered:
“The person holding the marriage interview is none other than His Majesty the Emperor himself.”
At the magnitude of the matter, Reinhold and Godhart could only laugh weakly.
It was true that the current Emperor was unmarried.
There were some impudent rumors that he was shy or impotent, but it was vaguely assumed that he would eventually take a wife. The time had simply come, but for the marriage interview to be in the Old Capital of all places.
“Then we must prepare a suitable level of formality.”
“That’s easy to say, Godhart-san. But there’s no precedent for such formality.”
“There’s no way there’s no precedent. If we need to research, we’ll ask the cathedral for help. They won’t refuse in such a joyous occasion.”
For Reinhold, failure here was not an option. He had ceded the Imperial charter for fishing rights in the Old Capital to Godhart, but if the marriage interview in the Old Capital was successful, there might be some kind of favor.
He had no regrets about the fishing rights now, but the desire to obtain some kind of charter or Imperial decree still smoldered.
“So, who is the other party?”
To Godhart’s question, Marcel shook his head weakly and answered weakly.
“Celestine de Oiria. The Princess Regent of the Eastern Kingdom.”
This time, the two of them were truly silent.