20demayo Chapter 16: The Founders' Calculations
Chapter 16: The Founders' Calculations
The bronze seal still retained the warmth of the fire in the Cole furnace.
Otto Hohenzollern did not hold any lengthy investiture ceremony. He simply pushed the seal toward Polyver on the damp wooden table in the longhouse.
The bottom of the seal is engraved with the claws of a two-headed black eagle. That represents the administrative authority officially recognized by Seafront City as belonging to the territory of Hohenzollern.
"Since Lord Jason has entrusted this river bend to me, I must return to him a millstone that can produce silver."
Otto's voice sounded particularly cold and hard in the quiet room.
"Polliver, from this day forward, you are the steward of this territory. Your task is no longer to hide in a corner and do the accounting as before, but to watch over the whereabouts of every single oat, like the eagle eye in this seal."
Pollifer took a deep breath. His eyes, which had been slightly dimmed by lack of sleep, now revealed a heavy sense of realization.
He didn't waste any words; he simply extended his hands, covered in charcoal marks, and solemnly accepted the seal.
"My lord, since the Earl's tax officer, Scholar Seron, will be arriving tomorrow morning, there are some figures we must review internally first."
Pollifer opened the thick register, his tone becoming pragmatic.
"According to the agreement you reached with Lord Jason in the Lord's Hall: 60% of the mineral output will go to Seafront City, 10% will be paid to Raymond Frey as 'border protection fees,' and the remaining 30% will go to us. Lord Jason was aware of and tacitly approved of this ratio."
Otto nodded, signaling him to continue.
"The problem now is not how to divide the money, but whether we can actually dig that '60%' out of the mud this month."
Pollifer pointed out the window to the new migrants who were digging drainage ditches under the scorching sun.
"One hundred and twenty-eight more mouths to feed. Although the workforce has increased, food consumption is twice what it used to be. Tytos Blackwood's scouts have blocked the land routes, and every pound of old wheat that Damon Rivers' smuggling ships bring is factored into our mining costs."
He lowered his voice even further.
"Scholar Theron came to audit the accounts, actually to assess on behalf of the Earl whether the Hohenzollern territory could still serve as the 'money bag' for the Sea Frontier City under this level of blockade."
"As long as the money is still substantial, Lord Jason will be my most reliable support."
Otto pushed open the wooden door and stepped into the center of the camp.
There is no splendor described by writers here, only a ruthless efficiency forced out of people in order to survive.
In order to cope with the pressure of epidemic prevention and production brought about by the population boom, Otto established the "ten-person labor corps" system at the southernmost end of the camp.
One hundred and twenty-eight new refugees were forcibly separated and organized into ten work groups according to their physical condition and original skills.
"Groups one through four, go down into the mine. Whether it's silver ore or the associated lead ore, each group must carry out a quota of ore every day. Otherwise, there will be no salt in the porridge for the whole group at night."
As Otto passed by the quarantine camp, he coldly declared to the displaced people who were lining up to receive their tools for work.
"Groups five through seven, led by Matt, are to turn the soil on the north slope. If the fertilizer in the compost pit isn't fully decomposed yet, force it to mix with quicklime and mud. Next spring's vegetables will depend on you guys."
Matt was leading dozens of people, enduring the intense stench, as they were making the final mixing of the collected pig and sheep manure with quicklime.
This "hardcore composting," unheard of anywhere else in Westeros, was carried out to a pathological degree under Otto's ironclad rules.
"Sir, the drainage ditches in the quarantine area have been dug."
Old carpenter Kerrigan limped over, carrying a graduated wooden pole in his hand.
"But as you requested, the underwater stakes that were driven into the dock have consumed all of Cole's scrap iron reserves. If we want to demonstrate sufficient 'defense sincerity' to Scholar Theron, we may need to request more pig iron from the Earl."
"That's one of Maester Theron's tasks. He's not just here to see the silver, but also to see what we need to continue producing it."
Otto watched the displaced people bustling about in the river.
They are no longer the listless, lifeless zombies lurking in the dark alleys of Fair City.
In the territory of Hohenzollern, every day's work meant a guaranteed, albeit meager, ration of food that would never be interrupted.
Such constraints based on interests and order are far more effective than vague oaths.
The next morning, the air had a slightly pungent smell due to the quicklime and dry dust.
A flat-bottomed support ship flying the eagle flag of the Sea Frontier City, escorted by four fully armed Melist guards, slowly docked at the simple Hohenzollern dock, which was heavily fortified with underwater stakes.
Maester Theron wore a faded grey robe. The brass chain around his waist clinked crisply as he walked.
His eyes were extremely sharp. It was the kind of scrutiny that only someone who had long dealt with numbers and legal principles would possess.
Sir Hohenzollern.
Scholar Theron stepped off the gangplank. He ignored Otto's outstretched hand and instead observed the hidden, sharp stakes on the outer side of the dock, which were only partially visible at low tide.
"The Earl heard rumors about 'water pirates' in the city of Sea Frontier."
The scholar turned around and looked at Otto with a sharp, piercing gaze.
"He asked me to come and see if these so-called bandits really affected the 60% share that Haijiang City was entitled to."
"You can check the ledgers yourself, Bachelor. Officer Pollifer has prepared all the receipts and loss lists."
Otto turned to the side and gestured for him to proceed.
"On this land, our interests are aligned with Lord Jason's. Every gram of silver lost is an unacceptable disruption to me."
Scholar Theron adjusted the iron frames on his nose and followed Otto toward the longhouse.
In that small room piled high with ledgers and mineral samples, an extremely transparent profit-sharing calculation based on a stable "60/10/30" agreement officially began.
The light inside the longhouse was rather dim. Only two oil lamps, laced with inferior animal fat, flickered at either end of the wooden table.
Maester Theron didn't look at the summary figures that Pollifer handed him. He went straight to the bottom few volumes of the "Raw Stone Mining Log" and the "Charcoal Consumption Inventory".
In Westeros, the mathematicians who were sent out to inspect the minerals were no less skilled in arithmetic and metallurgy than the actuaries of the Iron Treasury.
"The total amount of raw ore unearthed from the Huiyin mine this month is 1,200 pounds."
Sir Theron's fingers slowly traced across the rough parchment.
"Based on the average grade of shallow veins like those in the Blue Fork Valley, 1,200 pounds of rough stone, combined with 300 pounds of charcoal consumed by Cole's blacksmith shop for ash blowing refining, should yield around 50 pounds of crude silver."
The scholar looked up and gazed at Otto sitting opposite him through his iron-framed glasses.
"And the ledger records fifty-one pounds of crude silver deposited into the treasury. The clerk of Poliver kept the books very clean, even including the slag waste that was recycled. What the Earl admires most is this honesty that is not blinded by greed."
"Honesty is based on shared interests, Bachelor."
Otto placed his hands on the table, his tone calm and utterly unwavering.
"Seafront City took thirty pounds and six ounces. That's sixty percent of Lord Jason's due. As for the remaining forty percent, after deducting the ten percent 'transit fee' given to Raymond Frey, the remaining thirty percent will be used entirely to maintain the territory's expenses."
"The territory now has two hundred and eighty-four mouths to feed. This mining mill can't turn on just the grass roots in that muddy ground."
Sir Theron nodded.
His purpose in coming here was not to find fault, but to confirm whether the "knife" held by Haijiang City was still operating within a controllable and efficient range.
"Lord Jason has no objection to the expenses for that bastard descendant in the Twins."
The scholar closed the ledger.
"Without any preparation for a full-scale war, using ten percent of silver to shut up old Walder Freyna's suspicious eyes is an extremely worthwhile deal. The Earl asked me to tell you: as long as the flies from the north don't get into the soup of Sea Frontier City, Sea Frontier City can pretend it didn't see your 'actions' on the border."
This is a very significant political endorsement.
This means that Otto's independent military operations and diplomatic bribery on the upper reaches of the Blue Fork River were now fully transparent to his lord.
"I've finished looking at the ledgers. Now, I want to see how you're going to hold onto these fifty pounds of silver in this quagmire."
The scholar stood up.
Otto pushed open the wooden door of the longhouse and led Maester Theron into the sun-drenched territory.
The first thing the scholar noticed was the pungent but not nauseating smell of quicklime in the air.
He looked down at the sewage pits that were strictly confined within the white lime lines downwind, and at the labor groups that were composting pig and sheep manure with soil.
"Using quicklime for disease prevention and composting excrement? The average land knight only knows how to put hay in the stable."
The scholar keenly perceived the long-term plan behind it.
"You are building up the soil's fertility for the cold winter that follows the long summer."
"It's not just about the soil, but also about manpower. If we don't cut off the water pollution, the more than one hundred refugees I just recruited will die of dysentery within three days."
Otto's answer was not boastful; it was simply a statement of objective laws.
The two continued forward and arrived at the core defensive line of the territory—the inner harbor and training ground.
On the water, Kerrigan's carpentry team was driving the last few thick cedar logs into the riverbed.
The scholar walked to the riverbank and looked down at the dense, cold-gleaming four-sided iron caltrops and hidden stakes in the clear, shallow water.
"An extremely vicious underwater defense line. If Brightwood's fast oars dared to charge at night, their hulls would be instantly torn apart by these iron spikes."
Just then, a series of rhythmic and muffled friction sounds erupted on the training field.
Twelve full-time veterans of the "Iron Oath Regiment," along with twenty-five part-time militiamen, formed a tight formation.
The Northern veteran Toren stood on the flank, like an emotionless metronome.
"Shield held tight! Countdown ten! Push!"
Thirty-seven oak-clad iron round shields instantly pressed forward half a step. Spears emerged from the gaps like venomous snakes.
"A spear formation with a ten-second tempo..."
Scholar Theron's expression turned extremely serious.
"Sir Otto, you are training a group of Riverland refugees in the same way you train the Unsullied."
"I don't have enough food to feed these pampered cavalrymen, maester. I can only use discipline to stitch these peasants into a wall."
Just as the two were talking, Jack, who was in charge of the outer reconnaissance, rushed back from the edge of the dense forest and knelt down on one knee in front of Otto.
"My lord! Tytos Blackwood has increased his bet!"
Jack didn't even have time to catch his breath.
"They erected a wooden fence across the road overnight at the abandoned watermill, five miles to the south. Now no land route is possible!"
The atmosphere instantly turned cold.
Tytos Blackwood's patience was clearly wearing thin. He escalated from a simple "mobile blockade" to a "physical stronghold blockade."
Otto turned to look at Maester Theron. His grey-blue eyes revealed a shrewdness akin to that of a businessman.
"Scholar, you see. Lu Lu is dead."
Otto pointed to the thirty pounds of pure silver that Pollifer had just put into the ironwood box.
"This military fund, which belongs to Lord Jason, must be transported to Haijiang City by waterway by the end of this month. To ensure the safe passage of this money through the water, I need the Earl's support."
His voice was low, but every word was spoken with precise calculation.
"I don't need gold coins, I don't need manpower. I need those old, discarded crossbows from the Sea Frontier City armory, and five hundred pounds of pig iron. My underwater traps and ship armor both need pig iron for reinforcement."
Scholar Theron gave Otto a deep look.
He thought he was a tax official who had come to check the accounts, but he never expected that the young knight in front of him would so naturally use him as a bargaining chip to "reverse bargain" with his lord.
But this price is extremely reasonable. It's even entirely to protect the interests of Haijiang City.
"I will report everything here to Lord Jason truthfully, including that damned wooden fence."
The scholar straightened his gray robe.
"Load the silver onto the ship, Sir Otto. I hope to see you and the rest of the silver at the docks of Seafront City by the end of the month."
Fifteen minutes later, the Haijiang City's pick-up ship, carrying the first batch of verified ledger copies, sailed downstream.
Otto stood on the dock, watching the sails disappear around the bend in the river.
Tethos has blocked the land routes. The waterways will become the only meat grinder from now on.
And this was the battlefield Otto had calculated—on this muddy beach covered with iron horns, Hohenzollern's stone rollers were ready to crush any bones that tried to approach the Black Ships.