[The Empty Treasury and the Southern Hunt]
Spring had come to Prague.
The ice along the banks of the Vltava River had melted, allowing the water to flow leisurely once more, and the hills beyond the blackened city walls were blanketed in a riot of spring blossoms. The citizens, who had shivered through a winter of war and biting cold, finally wore expressions of relief.
However, there was one place where that warm spring breeze could not reach.
It was the grand conference room of the Prague Royal Palace.
"I will start with the conclusion," I said, leaning back into my plush chair and surveying the vassals before me. "We have no money."
"······."
A heavy silence descended upon the room. The chirping of birds outside the window sounded unnaturally loud in the void.
"It’s not just that we’re short; the situation is dire. If things continue this way, we won't just be unable to pay the soldiers' wages next month—I won't even be able to afford the bread for my own dinner table."
A nation is like a massive machine. It requires oil to function, and that lubricant is money. The problem was that I had modified this machine to be so high-performance that the rate at which it guzzled oil was beyond my control.
"Let’s start with the status reports for each sector. Commander-in-Chief Zizka?"
At my prompt, Jan Zizka rose, his heavy frame looming. He stroked his beard with a satisfied expression before opening his mouth.
"Military reform is going smoothly, Your Majesty. No, it would be more accurate to say it is explosive."
He shook a thick report.
"Thanks to the central army organization you introduced and the groundbreaking veterans' policy you demonstrated during the memorial service, the recruitment centers are packed with long lines every day. Peasants are abandoning their plows to take up spears, and even mercenaries from neighboring countries are flocking here after hearing the rumors."
"How is the quality of the troops?"
"Top-tier. An army that feeds them, houses them, and even takes care of their families—the soldiers' morale is sky-high. I have spent my entire life on the battlefield, but I have never seen soldiers with eyes like these."
So far, so good. A powerful standing army was the core of the modern nation I had dreamed of. But Zizka’s expression soured slightly, his voice dropping to a low rumble.
"However... there is some noise from a few of the noble bastards."
"What is their complaint?"
"The ones steeped in feudalism are spouting the usual nonsense. 'Our family knights are defending our lands well, so why does the King insist on spending massive taxes to create a separate central army?' or 'Giving weapons to commoners will only turn them into a mob'... that sort of drivel."
Zizka’s single eye burned with murderous intent.
"If you give me the word, I will go and smash their skulls in with a mace right now. How dare they question Your Majesty's great undertaking? They’ve grown too fat and comfortable."
"...Calm yourself. Violence is a tool for later."
The complaints of the nobles were expected. Feudal lords in medieval society generally detested the strengthening of royal power. They feared the King would lead an army to infringe upon their vested interests.
"That isn't the problem. The cost is."
"Ah, yes. Indeed."
Zizka turned to the next page of his report.
"Because so many volunteers flocked to us, food and clothing expenses far exceeded our estimates. Furthermore, when you add the 60 groschen monthly salary you promised, the hazard pay, and the lump-sum payments and pensions for the families of the fallen..."
He cleared his throat and recited the numbers.
"To be frank, this month's military expenditure alone is more than triple that of last month. And it will only increase from here, never decrease."
"······."
As I thought.
An army with modern welfare is a money pit. If I had told them like the medieval lords, "War has broken out, so bring your own weapons and feed yourselves!" it wouldn't cost a dime, but such a rabble could never face the Empire.
"Next, Abraham."
Abraham, the Royal Minister of Finance, stood up with an even darker expression than Zizka.
"The construction plan for the Sternberg Industrial Complex, as ordered by Your Majesty, is proceeding without a hitch."
Abraham opened a meticulously kept ledger.
"Thanks to the coal sent from the Silesian mines, the furnaces at the Royal Steelworks are burning 24 hours a day. More than half of the housing complex for the workers is also complete."
"And the production?"
"As you commanded, we converted the weapon production lines to civilian use immediately after the war ended. Right now, the steelworks are churning out high-quality steel plows, sickles, and cast-iron cauldrons instead of steel plates and cannons."
Abraham paused for a moment, adjusted his glasses, and looked at me.
"The goods are excellent. They are so much more durable than the existing wrought-iron farm tools that the peasants are fighting over them. Thanks to your order to distribute them at prices near cost, public sentiment is as good as it could possibly be, but..."
"But?"
"...There is no profit."
Frustration colored Abraham's voice.
"The transport costs for raw iron ore and coal, the high wages for the steelworks technicians, the material and labor costs for the massive civil engineering projects... the money going in is astronomical, but we are practically giving the goods away. It’s like pouring water into a bottomless pit."
He slammed the ledger shut and cried out in agony.
"Your Majesty, I will be honest. At this rate, the national treasury will be bankrupt in two months... no, in one month!"
The conference room buzzed with unease.
"Bankrupt..."
"Is it really that serious?"
We won the war. We built a powerful army. We sparked industry and distributed high-quality tools to the people. It looked like the perfect reign of a saintly monarch, but beneath that glamorous exterior, Bohemia’s treasury was running dry.
Kuno, the Captain (designate) of the soon-to-be-formed Royal Guard, raised his hand cautiously.
"Your Majesty, what about the property confiscated from the Church and the monasteries last time? Where did all that massive wealth go?"
I answered with a bitter smile.
"We’ve survived this long because of that. If we didn't have it, we would have gone bankrupt ages ago."
"Hah..."
"Do you know how much we spent on gunpowder during the last war? Feeding and clothing the soldiers, casting cannons... war is a furnace that burns money. There’s no way anything is left."
Then, Cenek, the representative of the moderate nobles, spoke up.
"Then... what about demanding reparations from the Emperor?"
He offered the opinion carefully.
"It is customary for the loser to pay reparations to the winner. You should formally demand it from the Emperor. Tell him to pay the reparations and recognize us as a legitimate nation."
I shook my head.
"I already sent the demand. And I received a reply."
"What did he say? Is he going to pay?"
"No. 'We do not negotiate with heretics. Shut your filthy mouth and get lost.' That was the gist of it."
"H-how arrogant...!"
The vassals were incensed, but I spoke calmly.
"It’s not all bad. The fact that the Emperor refused to negotiate means that, officially, the war hasn't ended. It gives us the justification to invade again whenever we want."
I muttered, resting my chin on my hand.
"We can just march into Vienna later and collect it with interest. However..."
The problem was the present. If I don't have the money to pay the soldiers next month, what good is a justification for the future? We currently had no leeway to fight another war, let alone invade a foreign country.
Janos, who had been listening, tilted his head and asked.
"My Lord, what about the supplies captured in the last war? I heard there are mountains of armor and weapons left behind by the Crusaders."
"We have them. A lot of them. From top-tier Bavarian plate armor to master-crafted swords, the warehouses are bursting at the seams."
"Then why don't we sell them? That would bring in a significant amount of money."
I slowly shook my head.
"To whom?"
"Pardon?"
"Think about it. We have been excommunicated. The Pope is watching like a hawk, threatening to excommunicate anyone who trades with us. Do you think the neighboring Catholic nations are crazy enough to buy our goods?"
I said with a wry smile.
"Supplies are just supplies; they aren't money. I can't pay the soldiers in armor, can I?"
The export routes were blocked. This was the biggest problem. No matter how good the product, if there is no place to sell it, it’s just a pile of scrap metal. The domestic economy alone had limits in maintaining this massive army and industrial infrastructure.
At first, I had considered using the Jewish merchants, Abraham’s kin, but...
Sigismund had absolutely crushed the Jewish communities within the Empire under the pretext of raising funds for this Crusader expedition. By confiscating their property and driving them out, he had collapsed the commercial and intelligence networks that had existed for centuries, so it would take considerable time for them to re-establish themselves.
Janos asked again.
"Then what about the Kuttenberg silver mines? Aren't we mining silver there?"
"We are. But the rate at which we spend money is much faster than the rate at which the mint can stamp out silver coins."
Silver coins cannot be printed in an instant like paper money. The process of mining, crushing, and smelting silver ore into currency is a task that requires absolute time. Even if we minted them through the night, there is a problem. What if silver coins flood the market? If there are no goods but money is overflowing, it only leads to inflation, where the value of money becomes worthless.
A heavy silence settled in the conference room. The vassals' expressions were as dark as if the country were going to collapse tomorrow.
I rested my chin on my hand, enjoyed their reaction for a moment, and then curled the corners of my mouth.
"Why don't you all lighten your expressions? Anyone would think the country had already fallen."
"Your Majesty, this is no time for jokes. The treasury is empty."
"True, the vault is empty. But that doesn't mean we are out of options."
I pulled two parchment letters from my robes and dropped them onto the table. One bore the seal of the Polish royal family in red wax; the other, the winged lion of the Republic of Venice.
The vassals' gazes converged on the table. They were filled with astonishment.
"T-this is...!"
"Yes. It is exactly that."
I picked up the letter with the Polish royal seal first.
"Wladyslaw II Jagiello. That old bear sent an envoy in secret."
"The King of Poland?"
Cenek asked with wide eyes. "Isn't he a devout Catholic monarch? There is no way he would try to join hands with us..."
"Before being a Catholic monarch, he is a man caught between the Teutonic Knights and the Holy Roman Empire. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
I shook the letter.
"The content is simple. It’s a proposal for a mutual non-aggression pact, and furthermore, a military alliance."
The conference room buzzed. For Bohemia, which had been in a state of total isolation, the fact that Poland, a powerhouse of Eastern Europe, had reached out was clearly good news.
"Of course, it’s not free. An alliance is a double-edged sword. If Poland goes to war with the Teutonic Knights, we must send troops. Conversely, if we clash with the Emperor again, Poland must also participate."
"That’s not bad at all. The Poles are incredibly good at fighting, aren't they?"
Zizka nodded, looking pleased.
"Look at how they trampled the Teutonic Knights at Grunwald. If they guard our back, even the Emperor won't be able to attack us recklessly."
"Exactly. It’s an opportunity for Bohemia to escape its status as an isolated island in Europe."
Breaking free from political isolation. This alone made the alliance with Poland valuable.
"Then what is the second one? Is it what I think it is?"
Abraham’s gaze was fixed on the letter with the Venetian seal. His eyes, accustomed to smelling money, sparkled.
"Correct. The merchants of the Adriatic."
"Are they... willing to trade with us?"
"Venice wants only one thing. Steel."
I said, sinking deep into my chair.
"As rumors spread that 100,000 Crusaders were crushed, the power of our Sternberg steel became known throughout Europe. The Venetian merchants, who have a nose for money, wouldn't miss this. They want to import our steel-making methods, or the steel itself."
Kuno jumped up in opposition.
"We cannot sell the technology! That is our lifeline!"
"Of course. I have no intention of killing the goose that lays the golden eggs. Technology leakage is absolutely out of the question."
I drew the line firmly.
"But selling the finished product is different."
"Finished products...?"
"The steel farm tools we made, the tools, and... the Crusader scrap metal rotting in our warehouses."
La Serenissima. The most serene republic. Venice wouldn't care about excommunication. Their only god is money. They are the kind of people who trade with the infidel Ottoman Empire, so why would they care about us?
"Think about it. It’s top-tier Bavarian plate armor. What does it matter if there’s a cross engraved on it? The Venetian merchants will take care of grinding off the symbols and selling them at a high price. We get to clear out the troublesome inventory, and they get to pick up goods at a cheap price. It’s a win-win."
"Ohhh..."
Abraham let out an exclamation and pushed up his glasses.
"Then the export route is opening! If we move the goods through the secret Alpine routes... we can receive payment in Venetian ducats!"
The atmosphere shifted in an instant. The faces of the vassals, who had been trembling with the fear of bankruptcy, brightened. Securing security through a military alliance and reviving the economy through trade. It was a perfect blueprint.
However.
"...However, Your Majesty."
Abraham regained his composure and spoke carefully.
"It is a truly excellent plan... but to sign a formal treaty, organize the merchant caravans, cross the Alps, exchange the goods, and have the payment enter our hands... it will take at least six months, or a year at the latest."
He was right. Even if money comes in the future, if we don't have money to spend right now, it’s all for nothing. Bohemia would not be able to avoid bankruptcy.
I curled the corners of my mouth into a sinister smile.
"If we can't get money from the outside, we have to shake it out from the inside. Don't you agree?"
"The inside... are you saying?"
The shoulders of the moderate nobles, including Cenek, flinched. I could see exactly what they were thinking.
'Could it be... us?'
'Are you trying to confiscate the nobles' property because you have no money?'
They were probably thinking something along those lines.
"Don't worry, Lord Cenek. I have no intention of shaking down your pockets."
"H-haha... i-is that so? I was trusting in Your Majesty."
Cenek wiped away cold sweat and laughed awkwardly.
"I am talking about the bastards who still don't know the situation and are holding their heads up high."
I walked toward the map of Bohemia hanging on the wall. Then, I drew a dagger from my waist and slammed it down onto a wide territory near the southern Austrian border.
"The Emperor was defeated and fled. Yet, there are still those who have not come to me and knelt."
The great lords of southern Bohemia. The Catholic hardliners led by the Rozmberk family. Even after hearing the news of the Emperor's defeat, they believed it was a temporary retreat, holed up in their territories, and locked their gates.
"They are occupying Bohemian territory, yet they pay no taxes and follow only the Emperor's edicts. It is clear treason."
I looked at Zizka.
"Commander-in-Chief Zizka."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Don't you need training for the central army?"
"That is correct. And there is no training like actual combat."
"Good. We will hold that training in the south."
My eyes shone coldly.
"Drag the cannons there and tear down every one of their walls. And scrape up every single silver coin and silver spoon in their warehouses."
The scar at the corner of Zizka’s mouth twitched grotesquely. It was the smile of a beast facing its prey.
"I shall obey. I will split the bellies of those pigs and bring out the gold for Your Majesty."