Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: War Preparations with Maxburg (4)
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My privateering is similar to that of the great European powers like England, France, Spain, and Portugal, yet fundamentally different in key ways.
First off, my privateering, just like in history, involves plundering to cripple an enemy nation's supplies and commercial capabilities.
However, unlike typical privateering, I don't let the privateers divvy up the loot from their captures. Instead, I hand it all over to them.
And even though the half-plate armor distributed to the troops was a hasty upgrade that left some gaps, I'm showering them with incentives like breastplates, food supplies, materials, and even gold coins like crazy...
In essence, I'm forgoing the economic boost that traditional pillaging would bring.
But if this keeps up, the medieval feudal lord that is the Duke of Maxburg will face fierce backlash for failing to protect his people's profits and safety. He'll be forced into the worst possible move: war with me under unfavorable conditions.
If he doesn't, he'll be seen as a lord shirking his duty and honor, and a lord like that gets rebellion from ambitious vassals like me as payback.
As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the door of my study.
"Who is it?"
"It's Braym, admiral of the Black Mist Pirate Fleet. I've come to give you my final report, my lord."
"Come in. There's plenty I want to discuss with you."
Braym entered my study and naturally took a seat in the chair before my desk. At the same time, the steward brought in cookies, sandwiches, and black tea.
"Begin your report."
"Yes, sir. Then I'll start. We've plundered a total of thirty merchant ships heading to or from Maxburg, capturing eighteen of them. The loot—Romanian wine, ham, beer, crafted goods, iron, lumber for water barrels, spices, and sugar—comes to about 5,000 gold coins in value. Out of thirty captains, we took twenty-three alive and killed seven. As per your orders, the 1,000 crewmen aboard were neither sold as slaves nor recruited into our fleet; we're holding them safely."
5,000 gold coins in goods and eighteen ships captured... Pirates bring everything in at black market rates.
Just selling the goods alone should net around 2,000—no, 3,000 gold in profit.
Add another 5,000 on top of that, and we can cover the ships' costs and repairs.
"Well done. As promised, you can keep all this payout. In exchange for the supplies we provided, hand over those 1,000 crewmen to us, and once the eighteen ships are repaired up north, we'll pay a fair price and take delivery."
"Thank you, sir."
"No scurvy deaths among the crew, I hope? If they'd just taken the medicine I gave you, not a single one would have died from it..."
At those words, Braym's face lit up with excitement as he replied brightly.
"Thanks to the medicine you provided, not a single crewman died of scurvy! It's a miracle. Our fleet usually loses 5% of its men to scurvy without lifting a finger, but these guys are surviving. This medicine is truly the grace of Deus."
"Glad no one died. Saved us some coin."
"It's a shame we missed out on 50 gold, but cutting deaths among our seasoned sailors and captains is a win for us. Can we keep getting this medicine?"
"600 grams per silver coin. As much as you want."
"...Excellent. We'll buy it ongoing. And... about the compensation you're paying us..."
"I could pay now, but the accounts aren't settled yet. We need to appraise the goods first. Also, I asked you to interrogate the captains about the Maxburg situation if possible... Any luck?"
Hearing that, he grinned and handed me a report.
It contained far more than I'd imagined, giving me one solid certainty.
That Maxburg bastard must be burning up inside by now—probably passed out from high blood pressure.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The study featured walls engraved with an eagle snatching a fish—the symbol of House Maxburg—along with a top-grade Italican marble desk and an ebony chair.
There, I'd cleared out all my subordinates and servants, and began reading letters from nobles and merchants.
[To His Excellency the Duke of Maxburg, your loyal merchant Count Bremen reports: Lately, Braym's Black Mist Pirates have been attacking our merchant ships, inflicting massive losses on merchants and the upstanding nobles who employ them. Baron Alvhiem, for one, lost 10 tons of sugar to those rat-like privateers and went bankrupt. Other nobles and merchants have suffered huge damages too; several mid- and small-scale guilds under our domain are already on the brink of financial ruin. I'm calming things somewhat for now, but it's just a stopgap. We need swift resolution, or the other vassal lords' discontent will skyrocket.]
[To the honorable and noble-blooded Duke of Maxburg, a humble merchant of House Medica speaks: Our house has built long trust with Your Excellency and your family, continuing trade at a loss for the past five months on that basis. However, as humble merchants, we can't sustain unprofitable dealings. Thus, we can no longer continue trade with Your Excellency. After sending this letter, I've ordered all twenty-five guilds under us to withdraw. If this issue isn't addressed within a month, our guilds will legally collect the total 100,000 gold you borrowed from us, plus 150,000 in interest, from Your Excellency and your vassals.]
[Rottingen Mayor Heinz reports to Your Excellency the Duke: With countless guilds bankrupting or withdrawing, food prices in the city have doubled, and riots seem imminent. Act quickly, or our city is at risk. If you can't eliminate the Black Mist Pirates causing this, send at least 3,000 extra men for protection.]
After reading through these letters full of such content, two emotions welled up in me.
One was rage at that Kroitel scum who'd orchestrated it all. The other was despair at my domain's peril.
Especially that Kroitel bastard... How the hell did he sniff out my plan? I'd deliberately hired a knight exiled from the Northern Alliance to sever any links to those northern bears, even having my officers speak their language fluently and eat only northern food to throw suspicion their way.
"That thieving, wicked Kroitel spawn!! How does he pull off privateering even more depraved than what homosexuals wouldn't touch? People need conscience!! Politics is so damn dirty!!!"
As I bellowed, a knock came at the door.
"Who is it? Didn't I say no one enters?!"
"Forgive me, Your Excellency. But this is urgent. Merchants from House Medica, leading Italicans and Venikians, have stormed the domain demanding debt repayment. And..."
"And what? They want to test me? Tell them to shut up before I hang them for lese-majeste! You foolish steward..."
Moments later, the steward spoke from beyond the door in a terrified voice.
"If Your Excellency doesn't resolve this, they'll inform His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Romania and all the lords via letter about our house's inability to repay debts."
Our relations with the current emperor are already strained. If word gets out that I'm being pushed around by mere merchants...
The emperor would surely send a letter like this:
"My ancestors entrusted the people of the Maxburg Duchy—subjects of my empire—to House Maxburg for protection. If you can't manage that, we'll have to lighten your burden."
Then he'd squeeze us with some gold and meddle massively in our house and domain in return.
So I swallowed my anger and told the steward outside.
"Send them all to the conference room. I'll be there shortly."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "What the hell have you done to sit there getting fleeced by a mere pirate fleet without responding?"
"Isn't this too much? My house lost 3,000 gold—no, 6,000 including the ships! Damn it, I'm scared I'll get recalled to Medica HQ and stripped of my post."
"My son, whom I was training as heir, got captured! Because of those damned pirates! I only let him travel safely between Frankfurt and Rotteningen in Romania, the safest spots—never dreamed he'd get nabbed near here, of all places!"
"The losses are catastrophic. As you all know... we have to sacrifice several mid- and small-scale guilds just to cover them. We're carving flesh from our own bones to survive."
"I can't believe this is reality."
If these were my vassals chatting like that in my mansion, I could lop off one head to shut them up...
But they're not my vassals, subjects, or merchants. They're agents of massive guilds bridging Italica and Romania. I can't touch them.
No—in this situation, snapping at them without cause would cost me dearly.
So I addressed them in a dignified voice.
"First, I sincerely regret this fiasco. But from now on, I swear on my name: those wicked pirates won't set foot anywhere in this land—or all of Europa under our lord Deus's watch."
As a noble swearing on my name, they shifted from their prior tension to relieved expressions.
"Very well. But our losses are immense. You're under no obligation to compensate, of course... but eradicating the pirate fleet that caused this bleeding is your duty as duke, right? How do you plan to root them out?"
Shylocks, the lot of them. Sure, I'm a foreign noble, but still a duke called "Your Excellency"—lord of a duchy.
How can they be so insolent to my face...?
But I'm the one desperate now. If I can't stomach this humiliation... the emperor will gift me far worse shame personally.
To avert that, I need a war yielding gains beyond this crisis—plus concessions to throw these sharks.
And those concessions are, in fact...
"From the intel I've gathered, that Braym pirate's backed by funds from Count Kroitel. Crush Kroitel, and they'll slink away naturally—or at least stop hounding us like this. So I'll war with Kroitel's army, win, and break their spirit."
Hearing that, the man from the strongest faction here—House Medica—asked,
"But House Kroitel's army is unbeatable by equal forces. Sure, Your Excellency could conscript double their numbers... but isn't that still short?"
"That's why I'll hire the Golden Fleece Mercenaries, Red Wolf Mercenaries, and Blackbeard Mercenaries. All of them. That'll give us a solid edge—more than solid."
"Combined, that's 5,000-6,000 elite mercenaries—should suffice. But you'll need them for at least two months... Where's the gold coming from?"
"That gold comes from you lot."
At that, they rolled their eyes, calculating the profits they'd reap in return.
Then one grinned and spoke.
"Deal. We'll take rights to iron armor and weapons from Kroitel's forges at one-third their supply price, plus sugar imports at half price. And grant unlimited access to Blueport—make it a free city."
"Blueport as a free city for a measly 5,000 gold? Are you mad?"
The Medica merchant flashed a smug smile.
"Free-city Blueport, and we'll forgive the 50,000 gold Your Excellency borrowed—interest included. Taxes still flow to you anyway; what's the loss?"
It's basically saying if I beat that Siel brat, they get northern trade—but as long as taxes come in, no real harm.
Forgiving that 50,000-gold noose around our necks makes it hugely favorable to us.
Still, since we're bargaining, might as well push harder.
"You Shylocks. Fine. But cover our expedition's food supplies too. That doable?"
"Of course, Your Excellency. Henceforth, we humble merchants will support you fully until your victory."