Chapter 80: 79. Census Disturbance in the Field

“Saphry. Wake up, Saps.”

 

I tossed over as a soft voice tore me awake. Was it truly time to get up? Hadn’t I only just laid my head down? Had I even slept?

 

“Surely Andril doesn’t treat you so poorly to have you sleeping in the library, right? Come on, the others are waiting.”

 

I managed a sigh into the desk, the most I could do at the moment. 

 

I had fallen asleep in the library, hadn’t I? The aching in my joints had a reason set to them, at least.

 

I lifted my head, wincing as a page peeled off my cheek. The Duke’s library surrounded me, as did open books, scattered papers, and a sleeping dragon. The white lamps were shuttered and dim, and I could only barely make out the figure standing there. For a moment I could swear that Marcolo even stood there and I blinked in surprise, but such delusions were swept aside in moments.

 

“It’s not good to sleep while sitting, Saps.” Breale said. “You’ll break your spine.”

 

“Ridiculous.” I said, adding a yawn. “Is it already Movitsday?”

 

“Idansday.” She said, not sounding particularly surprised. “We always come down on Idansday.”

 

Did they? That didn’t sound right to me, but then again the only thing that currently sounded right was dinner. Or breakfast, if Breale was to be believed.

 

The others, that being Auro, the Mavericks, Luis, Roland, and Hosi, had taken to coming down right before the end of each week to go over the week’s coursework and to train Auro, myself, and, after a few weeks, Roland and Luis in the basics of hand to hand combat. They would transfer the teacher’s messages if they had any, we’d do that awful game of scholastic telephone, and then we’d be hitting each other with wooden poles for a couple hours while Fredrick fretted over our arms. It wasn’t a day I could necessarily enjoy, of course, but it somehow seemed to ground the week and prevent the days of magic training and flag reading from blending together into one eternal day, so for that I was grateful.

 

I nudged Gideon, and he stirred almost immediately. 

 

“I thought you didn’t need to sleep.” I said.

 

Need? He yawned as he thought. No. These tomes are exceedingly boring, however…

 

I nodded in agreement. After grasping at straws for a few days trying to find some reason to convince Andril, we’d finally settled on simply researching the whole thing as best we could. The best we could figure, the best aspects of Fangpeak would be in additional troops, another path, and morale. Considering that the last two were hard to quantify, we’d then taken to the library to go over past tomes of old wars, records of levies raised, and the spotty census data from whenever a king or duke had thought to order one. It was long, tedious work, but we had taken to it with a zeal I hadn’t thought possible towards something so rote.

 

Breale unshuttered the lantern and strode inside, peering curiously over the book I had laid to rest upon.

 

“What is this, a book of numbers?” Breale grimaced. “Do higher maths just lose the letters completely? I’m not sure how you’re expected to read that.”

 

“Quite the opposite actually. You lose the numbers, only to then lose the letters as well.” I said. “Eventually you have naught but foreign script and messy symbols making analogies and comparisons in ways that more fit another language than proper Veroline.”

 

I blinked. Did I really just say ‘naught’?

 

“That sounds… terrifying.” Breale said. “Though I struggle to understand what problem that seeks to solve. Counting and equations, I can see, and even to a far extent those troublesome volume numbers you love. But what use could an accountant have for what you speak?”

 

“Accountant’s don’t, of course. It’s more… Well, some of it’s for physics and explanations of… that sort of thing.” I finished awkwardly. “Listen, it’s complicated and you won’t need it any more than a baker needs a telescope.”

 

“Then what is this, if not a book written in numbers?” Breale peered over my shoulder at the tome again to read the headings. “Estimated population of Minua… hmm? A census? Whatever for?”

 

“Yep. We’re trying to find out how many troops Andril has in comparison to the senate, and how many Fangpeak could give us.”

 

“Can you do that with a census?” Breale asked.

 

I shrugged.

 

“Maybe. We’re trying to compare the numbers reported at old battles with census’s made around their time to find a percentage, and then we’ll apply that to the most recent census.” I sighed. “Problem is, rebellions and wars aren’t really the times you find a census being called.”

 

Apparently, counting your population was an immensely expensive affair, a problem made worse by the isolated and mountainous terrain of Verol. And normally, battles only occured during either rebellions, strife, or invasion, and all of those events came hand and hand with penny pinching. Combined with the fact that there wasn’t a regular tradition for making a count, we hadn’t been able to find records for within twenty years of any battle.

 

“The way you make it sound make me think we shouldn’t let these books out to the public.” Breale frowned. “There’s nothing stopping the other kingdoms from doing this, right?”

 

I shrugged yet again.

 

“The method is by no means perfect, or even good, but they probably already are. I can almost assure you Verol is doing it too, because I’ve even found some Mistren and Burgund census books lying around here.”

 

“Really?” Breale focused on the tome in front of me again and frowned. “So this is from the Age of Esilmor, 304… That was right before the fall of Brenpol, wasn’t it?”

 

I nodded.

 

“Only that Verol, or rather ‘The Lmeri Empire’ didn’t participate in that. They didn’t raise any levies, and all that happened rather long ago.”

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In most official and scholarly documents, the current ‘Age’ of the world is said to be the ‘Age of Esilmor’, and the current year 609 in that age. That was slightly confusing, though, because most people I’d met and the more depressing authors referred to the current one as the ‘Age of Ice’ instead, on account of the documented cooling and the longer winters. All official documents and the church used the first, though.

 

Of course, that wasn’t the only one named, for there was the ‘Age of the Star’ directly before in which civilization was said to flourish after the defeat of the Gryphon. Before that came the ‘Age of Mountains’, which was somewhat mythical, and even before that came the ‘Long Night’, where apparently the planet didn’t have a day cycle, only an eternal night. Personally I didn’t quite believe any accounts that occured before the ‘Age of the Star’, and even the later ones in there kind of pushed it for me. According to Gideon the dwarves said otherwise, of course, but that was a shady and unknown race to me. 

 

I still haven’t seen one yet, after all.

 

“I suppose not… What other years have you found?” Breale asked.

 

“Other than 304, we have 412, 430, 554, and 605.” I counted them off in my head. “Oh, and year 20 in the previous age, but I don’t really trust that one.”

 

At year 20, that number would be over a thousand years old now, and almost directly after the most mythological event in all of Veroline history to boot. I had as much reason to believe that as I would to take Julius Caesar’s numbers at face value. 

 

And to add to the point that most of the information was pointless, a good chunk of the census books had even been made during the time of the old empire. Which ,while it technically still lived in the form of our current Veroline rump state, most assuredly had slightly different methods for raising men than the current kingdom. Though that wasn’t to say the old empire was better at it either, as from what I could tell the new kingdom was actually more efficient at raising larger armies despite a somewhat reduced population. Whether that was simply a side effect of a more militarised society or better institutions was unknown to me, but Verol had gotten better at defending itself over the years.

 

Breale seemed to think for a moment.

 

“Five-fifty-four… didn’t the Battle of Idaponte happen around that time?”

 

I exchanged a glance with Gideon, but he simply shrugged.

 

“The royal histories don’t mention anything like that.” I said. “There was the rebellion around five-eighty, but that’s the closest I’ve found.”

 

“They wouldn’t.” Breale grinned. “It wasn’t a good look for the king. Let me see…”

 

She floated over to the bookshelves and began scanning the titles. After a few more minutes and some questions, she finally found what she was looking for and placed it in front of us. 

 

It was a thin book, only a quarter inch thick and frayed at the edges from constant use. The cover was faded leather painted blue, and in small silver print on its front read the words ‘A Records of the Phantom Foe.’

 

“I knew he’d have it. It’s almost a manual for what ruler’s shouldn’t do at this point.” Breale said.

 

“What is it?” I opened it up and started flipping through it, finding that it was structured like a novel. “Was there a battle the histories left out?”

 

“Nope. That’s the thing, there wasn’t one at all.” Breale said with a smile.

 

“Bre…”

 

“But that’s the thing, Saps. That’s why it was such an embarrassment.” Breale said. “Supposedly, the king heard rumours that a force from Doux-Burgund somehow scaled into Fangpeak and was under arms and about in the kingdom. He raised up a great host from the northern duchies and marched them out double-pace into the Clawwood in the dead of winter, only to find out that Doux-Burgund had done no such thing. And if I remember correctly…”

 

She took the book from me and flipped around it before shoving it back into my hands. 

 

“‘And the great Lords of Minua brought forth all their number, eight thousand men…’ Eight thousand! There’s your number. And look! Right below it the totals of the royal lords, Fanula, and Trenland listed as well.” Breale beamed triumphantly. “There’s your link!”

 

I looked from the book to Breale and then to Gideon, finding that he was as bewildered as I was.

 

“Bre… Amazing! Thank you!” 

 

I rose up and squeezed her in a hug, causing her to squeak in surprise, before jumping over to the book with the five-fifty-four census. I quickly found the entries for Minua and the other duchies and did some quick arithmetic. Then I went to the most recent census and applied it to the numbers there, but even before that I felt a sinking feeling well up in my heart.

 

Breale’s smile faded with my own.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

I closed my eyes. Great. I’d known that it wouldn’t be that easy, just ‘winning the war’ and all. But I couldn’t have imagined that I’d tacked us onto a cause so dim.

 

“Bre, has anything… well has anything changed in Minua in the last few years? Any massive migrations or revolutionary new recruiting methods?”

 

“Not that I know of.” She admitted. “Though I’m also not Minuan. Do you want me to get Auro? What’s wrong?”

 

“What’s wrong is that we’re outnumbered almost two to one. Even with my father’s troops we’re still hopelessly outnumbered.” I said grimly. “And they’re the defenders.”

 

And as if my day couldn’t get any worse, a messenger took that moment to burst into the room. A young boy that couldn’t have been older than twelve in a blue cloak and wet with snow leaned on the doorframe for a second before he recognised me. He seemed exhausted, as if he’d just ascended the entirety of the castle’s long stairs in one long sprint.

 

“Miss Astrian! Come quick, we have news from Captain Gelarin!” He said. “They’ve been intercepted!”

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