Chapter 52: Chapter 47. Consolidating The Assets

What follows is absolutely nightmarish. A whole month of me wrangling all sorts of ends and means Konistan had under his thumb under control. He was the sort of fellow with some semblance of brain, but critical lack of oomph, always falling short on what he started. The sad thing is, he didn't realize that, because everyone is still falling short and thinking it normal in this society. So I push things. Hard.

Konistan trading house is no more. Now, it is simply Northern Bank. I have had decided to split off the banking into a wholly separate organization and incorporate other things as affiliated companies, all of it under the generic aegis and oversight of Northern Trading Incorporated, a non-stock for-profit organization. Konistan did the "boxes stacked one into another" model. On paper, he owned four shops, a commercial stable and two mid-sized carracks anchored in Mersaille. De facto, those shops were in turn owning other shops. No, not the people in the shop. Shops themselves. An inspired bit of tax evasion, all things considered. Abraham swore a blue streak once I brought him the details. We hammered out a little agreement - he calls the old tax debts void in exchange for bulk payment of about three months worth of collective taxes at once (partially in products, he loved the idea of getting his army rearmed with proper steel as a tax obligation), I handed over half a dozen people I had some nasty dirt on (Two rapists using their status to hush things up, three embezzlers and one genuine serial killer. That last one was a REAL piece of work. Minor noble, major headcase, all-out nasty bastard. He had something against tall people, would capture them and saw their legs off at the knee to be "proper". The fact they all died from shock, blood loss or sepsis didn't seem to register, he had cadavers in his "hostel" years old that he still brought meals to and tsked about them being picky over food. Normally, this kinda folks would get outright smote if they ever showed up in a temple, gods in this reality DO pay attention when someone this vile shows up, but apparently nutso had wisely avoided being anywhere near the temples or priests.) for public executions (Medieval times, people. Execution at this time does not necessarily mean death. Rapists were hung, the serial killer was beheaded, embezzlers were merely whipped raw.) and things started settling down.

I had a good initial trump to browbeat Konistan's people, with 'Verwaand' taking out money and no one even trying to stop him, and I used this trump ruthlessly to root out the initial resistance. After that, despite the grumbling over the new company requirements, things went smoothly. And my requirements were many. Smiles, politeness, indifference to social rank - be you a lord or a peasant, you will be treated with the same high standard, uniforms. The last one was actually stupidly popular. I initially introduced it as a bit I could retract if I needed to make a show of giving a concession, but turns out that wearing my uniform is a social status in itself. I'm honestly more than a bit flabbergasted, but also spread the idea back to the duchy. I also altered the uniform to include the flower embroideries and started distributing a copied pamphlet that explains several basic spells anyone can pull with those that have home utility value, after it became clear to me that people are not just willing but also eager to wear the uniform. Dwarves started to show up in their own version of the uniform, and... reported about a 5% increase in profit. Like... What? (Dwarven version of the uniform includes chainmail woven into the heavy leather overcoat and actually looks pretty spiffy. But good luck moving in this unless you make your living swinging pickaxe.)

I... might have bitten off more than I thought there was. Thankfully, I can stretch my maw as wide as I want, so chewing is not a problem. Also, it is now common knowledge that I can teleport (Ironic, because I didn't actually use that one.), because I added a bunch of my matter to each initial letter sent with pigeons and subsequently massed up in assorted... extraneous biomass in the respective cities. As of now, I have clusters back home (Dad was flabbergasted when I popped in for a spot of tea. He was even more flabbergasted when I told him I took the spell from the Sultanate mage. The only place I actually teleported to, used that nook in the attic no one ever comes to that I remembered.), in Bakarat (Konistan turned out to have a shop in Ed's lands. Nothing big, just a general reseller store. I bamfed it up with new products and instituted a 5% discount for Ed's workers. Ed came by the next day to ask why the hell his governor sent him a letter of gratitude for "enlightened foresight in picking your allies".), in Mersaille and in Grenwille. The rest of the shops are near those four, and I can reach them easily enough via local means.

In Mersaille, Konistan's carracks are in a state of horrible disrepair, I'm surprised they can even sail. Paid to have them docked and rebuilt extensively. Worked out a deal with the dockmaster, he gives me preferential treatment and timber discount in exchange for blueprints for carrack to galleon conversion. Mostly, streamlining the top structures and better sail rigging. I also gave him the plans for proper galleons. Won't be faster than my brigantines, they're nearly a century behind, but will be a good improvement over the square sail only karracks. Decent update for bulk shipments. He apparently knows Selene's stepdad and has good things to say about him, so when I mentioned he's gonna be showing up with new ships, well... Let's just say that dockmaster is going to listen to me very well. The shops here are getting an update and a turnover of employees. Some aren't up to it. Have to work slower here, the road is still extending towards this area. I had a discussion with the crew of two ships. They're obviously beached while ships are being refurbished. Officers and captains are fine, most of them agreed to take a couple months off (I did pay them some to keep them around, and it seems they are rather glad to have time to spend with their families), a few had left for greener pastures. They got severance packages. Except one who thought he had a bright idea to steal the ship's coffer. That fellow was introduced to a good-sized boulder, a length of chain and given a permanent place of residence in the bay. Sailors don't like thieves, who knew?

The actual sailors of the ships? Most of them don't have the savings to live on for a couple months, and even if I gave them payment for the time, a good deal of them will just crawl into the bottle and will be unsalvageable by the time the ships are ready. So I gave them an offer. Option one - they get a monthly pay as a severance package and are free to look for a new ship to hire themselves on. Option two - they can spend the time getting paid for working on the road crew. Food, clothes, soap, reasonable amount of liquors, magical healing in benefits. Much to my surprise, I had a grand total of FIVE people wanting to leave out of ninety six sailors. The rest grabbed on the road crew offer with both hands. Konistan was not generous paying them, but he DID pay, and I made sure the payment reached the people properly, so... why? Oh well. I'll find out later, I guess.

Grenwille is a mess. Konistan had a protection racket there involving rich farmers and blackmailing the lord of the lands who nominally oversaw the farmers. Meeting with the lord was awkward. He was obviously expecting me to continue the extortion. Getting the letters back (Apparently, marquis Sadoux enjoys unconventional sex.) and my assurances that so long as he limits his exercises in bondage to willing participants, I'm not going to poke my nose into his bedroom leave him rather... flabbergasted. Another five awkward minutes are spent clarifying that no, I'm not interested in bondage myself and in fact have a harem that satisfies me entirely. As it turns out, he is also a theater aficionado, but the public has a hard time with the explicit nature of his performances. I suggest to him to write books instead, explaining that openly attending a performance that will brand you as a pervert is much harder than buying a book where only the shopkeeper is privy to your depravity. He is... rather taken by the idea, especially after I mention that there is a book-copying machine available for sale for discerning patrons in the Parsee. The agreement about farmers is more of an afterthought than anything else. To sum it up, I'm building a couple mills and farmers use my organization as their wholesaler.

Meeting with farmers goes... interesting. They are obviously sullen and suppress hostility in the beginning. Not surprising, Konistan treated them like shit. It is rather pleasing to see their faces gradually slacken and elongate as I outline new policies, explain the transparency measures and lay out several options that they can take. By the end of the meeting? Most of them are smiling, and all of them look thoughtful. Apparently, Konistan insisted they all produce the same grain, and my suggestion they vary things up a bit to avoid the dangers of monoculturalism leaves them much more accepting of me as their business partner. They put forth a surprising request, though. Apparently, they already heard about my uniforms, so they asked that I think up some kind of token to award to farmers who are affiliated. After some consideration, I offer them a sash with Gillespie Crest, a sigil of Northern Trading Inc. and again a bunch of embroideries accompanied with a pamphlet on basics they can pull with it. It is accepted with enthusiasm I frankly find more than a little... excessive. Honestly, is my protection by affiliation worth that much? I'm guessing they are used to people squeezing them for all that they have now, rather than investing to make sure they are a source of profit for years to come.

In Parsee itself, the change of leadership goes... squeaky. People here enjoyed most of the illegal benefits, and my insistence that no, there will be no more thuggish policies leaves them feeling threatened. I have to fire more people in Parsee than in the rest of the holdings taken together. A good deal of managers and overseers, to be honest. Solving that mess is... a mess. Thankfully, Roxolane pitches in at this point. She is obviously gifted with mathematics and loves using that gift. Still, handling the accounting... gah. Just.. gah. To help along, I pitch the idea of a magical arithmometer to Moon Unit. It's still in the works, but promises to be a significant improvement over the abacus that is currently the best calculation device available. Banking is currently on a holding pattern until I can introduce calculation machines and double-entry accounting properly. Shops are so far not that complex to keep track of, but that will change soon as the economic network grows stronger. Oh, Northern Bank still offers loans and takes deposits that can be recovered in every city with the department (Parsee, Kalos, Mersailles, Bakarat and Grenwille, so far. In negotiations to open additional branches in Tolosse, Nant, Haver, Antverp and Verdan, that should cover the country reasonably well.).

Dwarves deliver the parts I requested for the large scale printing press. It is... massive, honestly. Magic helps, but there is only so much enchantments can do if I'm not willing to shackle up a mage to the machine to provide the juice. Therefore, the press is also a fairly extensive flowerbed. Thankfully, the gossip trio are too awed with the rate of printing to object, and are well off sufficiently to afford buying up a decently sized building to install the press in. Inauguration newspaper is printed at two thousand batch to begin with... And subsequently reprinted two more times at twice the volume, because the demand is just crazy. I need to look into setting up some kind of paper manufacturing, because current facilities are barely keeping up with once a week newspaper. Meeting papermakers... Annd they are ridiculously eager to sign up as an affiliate company. Hello, Northern Paper Manufacturing. Situated in the village two hours by horse north of Parsee, takes in mulch and sawdust and bark and other wood castoffs, grinds them down in waterwheel-powered shredders, then presses the paper sheet out of papiermache. Their previous method involved a fine mesh on a frame and produced sheets as big as the frame. Obvious limitations. Rotopress extruder allows to create rolls of paper. Still very primitive and slow by my measures, but two rolls per week is enough to supply the weekly newspaper and they can keep the third roll to sell in parcels to bookbinders and as loose paper.

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Inaugural roll is delivered to the palace, and I'm treated to a rather rare sight of Abraham outright gaping at the thing. He then requests a separate copperphone pair so that he could have direct access to the newspaper. Gossip Trio are... more than a bit nervous about suddenly getting summoned, and MORE then a bit weirded out to find out that king himself finds the newspaper idea very intriguing and would in fact like to rent a permanent space for his own proclamations, paid for by furnishing courier carriages to disseminate newspapers to several major cities. They're... a little bit freaked out that their "house project" is suddenly a national enterprise, but accept the decision with surprising aplomb. I find myself sorely wishing for that aplomb when I'm treated to triple squealing in the carriage as it clears the palace gates. Apparently, DeeDee, MeeMee and LeeLee consider this a coup of coups and swear their eternal friendship for landing them this gig. I take the opportunity, and suggest to them the idea of "Newspaper Club" - an organization of noble ladies who get the discount on newspapers in exchange for providing the gossip. They will have to train some dedicated reporters eventually, but to begin with, crowdsourcing is just the thing to take this media project off the ground, and the idea of belonging to a club suggests certain exclusivity that would keep them well-supplied with gossip and news.

My surprise project is progressing apace. It is shaping up to be nice and comfortable and is one of the areas where magic is a big help, in no small part because I personally enchant the thing to the gills. It helps that the construct is big enough to afford hosting several ceramic flowerpots. That should explain away the power requirement coverage.

Up north, I take advantage of my now known mobility to do some personal inspections. Dwarves are really getting things on track there. I am shown the prototype steam engine. Unfortunately, the ratio of power is not favorable to keep it powered solely off flower magic, but it IS possible to create a coal enrichment facility that would stuff the coal processed in it chock-full of fire magic to raise its heat payload. Actually, some experimentation later, we settle on two kinds of plants. One produces high-yield coal that burns almost as hot as magnesium, but burns out as quick as regular coal. Other produces high-endurance coal that burns a quarter less hot than regular, but lasts almost five times longer. Magic is hella useful. I also take some time to test assorted enchantments on stovepipe grates to capture the escaping carbon and redirect it - either to the carbon collector, or back to the furnace, depending on construction.

The first rail line will be ready for testing by the end of autumn and will connect the Grand Forge (Dwarves are so-so at naming, they just call the new settlement Grand Forge) and the port of Kalos. The second line will connect Kalos with Parsee, and it will be ready by early spring, tentatively. I'm not putting too much emphasis on throughput for now, I want the concept lines laid down to prove this is a viable thing before I start ramping up, and if Roxolane's theory of portals proves itself, we just might replace the ore and metal shipping with portal networks. Unfortunately, the more complex the thing is, even chemically, the less useful portals become.

I've received a letter from the viceroy of Albion, most honorable Cromwell (WHAT?... By all accounts, this version of Ol' Ironsides isn't as militant as I remember from previous world's history, but is rather well-known as capable, if somewhat miserly administrator.), and he is requesting for terms on which I'd agree to sell cure for cold for his cold cold isles. I reply to him with a letter that if he were to collect acolytes from temples and send them to Parsee, they will be taught how to prepare it in the local temple and give him a figure for bulk shipments of ready cure, honey, ouzo and mint. Prelate Iohann... is exasperated, but mollified with my offer to donate some gold to the temple to afford the housing, because Cromwell sends no less than a hundred of acolytes. I'm guessing colds are a big problem up north, doubly so at the sea. Dad is also... exasperated, asking if I ever plan to stop turning up even more profit, or my goal is to fill my family estate with the gold to the attic. Both of them double down on the things to handle this. Then I get a call from Abraham, who is sheepish. Apparently, Cromwell wrote to him first, but the letter came in the middle of the mess with Ed and got misplaced until now. So he calls in and asks if there are any problems with dealing with this on short notice. So I ask him to keep a watch on the temple and help prelate Iohann if the temple has any problem housing so many extra acolytes.

Goodness. I thought one shop was a hassle. Neverfucking mind that, the financial empire is ORDERS of magnitude more hassle. I'm so thankful I nabbed Roxy, I'd go nuts slogging through all the accounting without her help. Note to self - do something nice for all of the wives, their support and help is the only thing that gets me to crawl out of bed in the morning.

Academy studies are... Eh. I basically badgered professors for advance assignments, turned in stuff the next day and apparently made more than a few of them wonder the hell I'm still doing in Academy. In particular, Alchemy professor is... vocal. Apparently, some of the basic chemistry I've used to handle the assignment is something not yet known, and she is... insistent on me dropping "all that nonsense" and writing a book on "new discoveries". I admit, I was more than a LITTLE miffed at her. And responded... a little bit mean. Because my response was to split into a dozen, write down a reasonably comprehensive textbook on inorganic chemistry over the evening, make a dozen copies and turn them in (well, I turned in ten copies, I kept two for my own library references, one with me and another one sent off to estate). Which, apparently, caused her to lock herself in over the weekend and show up hungover and wild-eyed to her lesson on Moonday.

Ever since, alchemy class is in use well after classes are over and there is apparently a freshly budding club of "Mineral Alchemists" poking at all sorts of rocks and ores to try and disprove my book. Well, they STARTED trying to disprove. Right now, they are enthusiastically adding more data and discovering new stuff. I might toss a primer on organic chemistry at them next semester, see what they make out of almighty Carbon. Oh, I also had been confronted by the professor (thankfully in private) about how it shouldn't be possible for coal and diamond to be the same thing. Long story short, the professor in question is now in possession of an artificial diamond and a severely cracked worldview. Thankfully, it is profligately expensive of magic to create diamonds like this. I can handle it, maybe a dozen more people on the planet can handle it (once in a couple years), and that's it. What I don't tell her is that I'm going to be creating an artificial diamond dust machine next spring, dwarves should advance the metallurgy sufficiently enough to have use for diamond-tipped tools.

This morning, I wake up with a distinct feeling that I need, deserve and MUST HAVE a day off. And oh, would you look at it? It's Caturday.

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