Batu
The next day, Sir Justin and his small entourage arrived at Korelia Castle. Since the last season, like other low nobles, he had worked to manage his land to make it self-sufficient and profitable. As someone knowledgeable about horses and horse trade, the Arvenian-born knight tried his hand at horse breeding, thinking it might yield good results. However, progress was slow and required patience, just like everything else.
This season, after arranging for his estate to operate without him, Sir Justin was ready to resume his duties as Lord Lansius’ Marshal. His arrival at Korelia was also prompted by an urgent matter he had learned of through his contacts in the sometimes shady horse trade. Unfortunately, the Lord was away, so Sir Justin decided to meet with Calub instead.
He strolled along the corridors with a relaxed gait, whistling a carefree, wandering tune, until he encountered Calub in front of the small council chamber.
"Sir Justin, good to see you," Calub greeted.
"The pleasure is all mine. Well then," Sir Justin politely gestured for them to enter. Despite being a knight and a mercenary, he was neither arrogant nor condescending, and he was known for treating the staff with respect.
Once seated inside, the Marshal wasted no time, asking, "So, where’s Hugo?"
“Oh, your deputy was stationed at the Eastern Mansion,” replied Calub.
“Mansion, we have those?” asked Sir Justin.
“Turned out yes. A fifteen room mansion. It’s old and only one wing was usable, but it’s suitable for the retinues and guardsmen to winter.”
“Splendid, that answered where should I sleep tonight,” said Sir Justin excitedly.
Calub offered a sly smile. “I’m sure Hugo can arrange things for you.”
Sir Justin chuckled. “He wouldn’t like it, but that’s his problem.”
The two chuckled for a moment.
“So,” Sir Justin changed his tone into a serious one. “I have contacts at several places. They reported that the Three Hills are mustering their forces.”
“Viscount Jorge,” Calub muttered and added, “Three-thousand infantry and one-hundred cavalry.”
Sir Justin’s lips turned into a grin. “So, you’ve done your work, impressive, master Calub.”
Calub chuckled. “The last time, bad information nearly killed us, so, of course, I did my work.”
Sir Justin drew a deep breath. His memory flew to the plains, where they had won their biggest victory against Lord Robert. “Has the Lord said anything about this?”
“I saw him making plans, but nothing concrete at this moment,” Calub remarked.
Sir Justin crossed his arms, disliking the odds. “We only got four-hundred men and at best a hundred cavalry. About the same as the last time.”
“Without Midlandia support, this is all we can get. Even this much is already an achievement," Calub remarked.
Sir Justin sighed and confessed, “I don’t like this. Even with those new defensive works, I doubt the Lord of Three Hills will be stupid enough to repeat Lord Robert’s mistake. Also, the report says they’re stacking supplies already. I fear they’re going to attack sooner than later.”
Calub seemed surprised but glanced toward the window and saw the dark clouds forming on the horizon. “There’s still time to prepare. The rainy season will still last for two weeks.”
The Marshal rested his back against the hard wooden seat and pondered about their options.
Suddenly, the door creaked open. “Oh, I didn’t know we opened a council meeting today,” said the Lord of Korelia as he entered.
The two rose from their seat. “My Lord.”
“At ease, gentlemen,” he motioned for them to return to their seats. “So, what have you discussed?” Lansius asked as he took his seat.
Sir Justin gestured for Calub to speak, but Calub declined. “My Lord, there’s news that The Lord of Three Hills is preparing his troops and-“
“and siege engines, yes, I know that much.”
The two were surprised. Sir Justin looked at Calub, who shook his head.
Lansius continued, “Let’s not worry too much. There’s still two months before the road is hard enough for anything."
“Two months...?” The Marshal found it hard to believe, leaving Lansius smiling in victory.
“I know you’re relying on your merchants, and Calub is relying on his Guild’s connection. But I just recently secured more reliable eyes and ears.”
Marshall looked enthusiastic, while Calub furrowed his brows, trying to guess, and finally asked, “My Lord, who supplied you with this information?”
Stolen story; please report.
Lansius slumped into his seat, tired from riding. “Oh, you’ll meet them soon.”
***
Just after midday, hundreds of riders and horse-drawn carts appeared on the horizon, approaching the western plains of Korelia Castle. The nomads, invited by Lansius, had finally arrived. They were an impressive sight, with their vibrant garments and sturdy steeds.
Their carts carried their families, goods, and provisions, while seemingly an endless wave of white sheep and goats trailed behind them, grazing lazily on the recently green Korelian grass.
The Lord of Korelia and Sir Justin rode with a detachment of riders to welcome their new guests. Excitement filled the air as the two groups met, extending their arms in gestures of friendship.
The people of Korelia watched in awe as the nomads, more numerous than they had ever imagined, set up their camps. In just a few hours, hundreds of white yurts stood against the lush green landscape, creating an impressive sight.
Before sunset, Lansius and his entourage were invited to join the elders in their largest tent for a feast. The air was filled with the aroma of horse wine, sweet honey-glazed snacks, and steamed dumplings. Laughter and music resonated throughout the camp.
Following custom, Lansius declined a wooden chair and sat on a cushion directly on the rugs, much to the hosts’ delight. Despite his eagerness, he struggled to understand their dialects and mostly let Sir Justin, Calub, or even Sterling do the talking, while Lansius nodded and smiled as required. It was taxing, but he needed this alliance to work.
The proceedings went better than expected, with neither side demanding anything from the other. Lansius sought mutual respect and understanding, rather than their service. He treated the nomads not as subjects to bend the knee but as business partners working toward a mutually beneficial relationship.
As expected, the day concluded with just warm greetings and introductions, but nothing concrete. Lansius sensed that the elders would send someone important when they were ready to discuss further.
In the meantime, he welcomed the nomads to graze on Korelia’s plains, just northwest of his castle. Using the nomad’s presence as a pretext, he also ordered the Korelian shepherds to graze on the eastern side of town.
The next day, an envoy arrived at the castle bearing gifts, led by a man in his prime with sharp eyes and a commanding aura.
Lansius knew he had met the one he had been waiting for.
***
Lansius had invited the man, named Batu, and two other guests into the grand chamber for a discussion. Equally, Lansius had Calub and Sir Justin on his side. Both sides were seated and separated by a table. Drinks were poured, and they had introduced themselves earlier.
“I thank you for this invitation. It’s an honor to enter the castle,” Batu began. Fortunately for Lansius, his accent was better than the rest.
Is he educated?
“The honor is also mine,” Lansius replied formally.
“So, what does the Lord wish to discuss with a humble shepherd like me?”
Batu’s eloquence awed Lansius. “As I stated yesterday, I wish for a trade relation.”
“It seems our shawl is of great interest to you,” Batu was pleased. “However, they are time intensive and we hardly make more than we needed.”
“I understand the challenge. Let me explain. We wish to acquire just the raw material, the winter fleece to be exact.”
The two guests murmured amongst themselves until Batu looked at them. He then replied to Lansius. “Only the raw material, not a finished shawl or garment?”
“Indeed, I want the pastoral community to produce the raw materials while the Korelians weave them into garments,” Lansius clarified his concept as best he could. “I want Korelia to create something unique to sell to Midlandia and beyond. I believe these quality garments are the perfect choice. If this works, everyone can prosper.”
Batu considered this for a moment. “What do we gain from this?”
“Supplies. We’ll trade fairly for your winter fleece. We have grains, salt, fruits, iron, linen, and wood.”
“Only our winter fleece?”
Lansius smiled, having thought this through. “Aside from the winter fleece, I’m interested in horses. And as you know, there’s no such thing as too many horses.”
Lansius’ answer brought laughter from Batu. “My Lord, you even understand our proverb. We’re honored.”
“Have we reached an agreement?” Lansius inquired.
“I would like to think so,” Batu nodded. “I’ll inform my elders and ask for our members to take oaths and honor this deal.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Lansius interrupted. “I don’t want to force anyone. Let the bartering process determine the outcome. If we offer too little, anyone is free not to sell their winter fleece.”
Batu smiled but shook his head. “I appreciate your good intentions, but it’ll be hard and breed destruction upon my community. Some families may be tempted to trade too much and disrupt the bartering rate for anyone else.”
This guy understands that far?
Batu continued, “Our offer is likely several hundred bags of fleece each spring to be traded for a fixed amount of supplies. I’ll consult with the elders about their needs and what we can offer.”
“What about this year?” Lansius asked, desperate for some raw materials.
“Most of the goats have shed their winter fleece, but we still have some in stock. I think there’s enough to make a hundred shawls.”
Lansius nodded, feeling the tension in his shoulders loosened. Observing this, Batu decided it was time to address a more challenging issue.
“My Lord, you’ve employed a member of our community as a scout. While I don’t speak for everyone, know that we don’t want to take sides in Lowlandia’s conflicts. We simply wish to live in the Great Plains in peace.”
Lansius nodded vigorously, showing his understanding. “I only want scouts and will pay accordingly – nothing more.”
“Nothing more, My Lord?” Batu asked, sounding skeptical.
“I don’t desire your allegiance,” Lansius asserted. “Your friendship alone is enough. Even if I am no longer the Lord, I hope you will honor our agreement and maintain a relationship with the Korelians.”
Lansius’ statement sparked murmurs among the others. Even Sir Justin looked questioningly at Calub.
“It seems I’ve misjudged you, My Lord," Batu said, glancing at Calub and Sir Justin. "You’re a larger character than I anticipated.”
Lansius was wary, unsure if the remark was complimentary or critical.
Batu went on, “The working opportunities last year and the payments in salt have saved many families. No one perished last winter, and after witnessing your character today… I’m prepared to align my tribesmen to your side.”
Eh, didn’t he just say?... was that a trick question?
Upon Batu’s words, the two other men proclaimed, “The Naimans agree. We’ll fight under your banner.”
“The Jadarans praise the agreement,” the second man added.
They’re only a few hundred men and women, where does this bravado come from?
Lansius was deeply moved. “I do not wish for your kinsmen to die for my cause.”
“My Lord, you misunderstand,” Batu replied, eliciting chuckles from his men.
“It’s rare to find a character worth fighting for. You’ve barely ruled for a season, yet you’ve already saved numerous of our elders and children. Let it be known that as barbaric as the Imperium’s painted us to be, we nomads know gratitude and will repay it in kind.”
A tingling ran down Lansius’ spine. He never anticipated that his salt payment scheme would reach beyond Korelia. Glancing at Calub, who nodded encouragingly. It was true they had allowed outsiders to help with the ditches, but he hadn’t expected anything to come out of it.
As it turned out, that seemingly small act of kindness had earned him the lasting gratitude of the nomadic people.
***