Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 460 (Patreon)

Some days, Emperor Gustavus wondered why he even bothered to go to bed. The day before had been filled with major emergencies, minor annoyances, and the trivial paperwork of running the Empire. He'd finally left court at 2 am, ate dinner, and put his head on his pillow sometime after 3 am. If he'd known that he'd be woken at 6 am when the dozens of messages marked 'Urgent, Important, and Life-Threatening' arrived, he wouldn't even have tried. It made him wish he'd taken that final, 6th level of The Emperor Never Sleeps. His valet informed him that a global message from the System had arrived before the deluge of messages brought by magical birds and bound elementals. Gus kept messages turned off to save his sanity.

Reading the announcement over a breakfast of bread, beer, eggs, and oatmeal he could guess at the content of most of the Urgent messages. Something like this had happened every generation. In prior years, the Empire would dispatch forces to the afflicted area, draft most of the Tier 2 or 3 peasant farmers into the Legion, and deal with whatever noble had decided to build up his own private army in some bit of wilderness. This time it was going to be different, he could feel it. More importantly, he had detailed reports from Inquisitor Diego, General Themis, and Prefect Abraitus who all had the wisdom or instructions to send them to him directly and not through a series of loose-lipped underlings.

Each person told a different story. From the perspective of Marcus, the Baron was a hardworking noble who went far above his responsibility to the Empire. To produce the new fortress with its high walls, magical defenses, and improved war machines was a miracle. And might possibly be the key to holding on to the Northern part of the Duchy of Grultain. He knew Winter would attack Rowen Keep. They had to. It was an Imperial strongpoint they couldn't leave behind them as they moved South. And right now was one of the things holding the teleport system together. Without the ability to move troops and supplies through the linked teleport stones, the Legion lost a huge advantage.

From Themis, he got a good assessment of the man he had been when he first arrived. Ambitious and driven, yes, but somehow not a warmonger. They had worried that the warping influence of Gadobhra would change him, but if anything, his growing ambition made him a better ally. He'd found a way to make himself useful to the Empire, and like many others was taking his pay in gold. Gold was simple, political favors ended up being more expensive.

He'd read Diego's letters over and over, mostly for the enjoyment of the old inquisitor's prose and humor. Hearing the story of how his young protege and the Baron were working to make Damien Franklin and a group of Hedge Wizards and Witches into useful allies was intriguing. The rogue Franklin's hand could be seen in the magical defenses and mana distribution system. And more recently, he seemed to have foiled Winter's diabolical plan to destroy the teleport system. That was a harsh blow to the esteem of the Mage's Guild, and Gus laughed just thinking about their faces. Thinking outside the box wasn't something the Mage's Guild did well. If criminals and madmen had the best ideas, you made friends with criminals and madmen.

Besides the opinions of his own people, Gus had discussed the Baron with two others whose opinions he trusted. The first was the Gnomish Lawyer who had delighted in bringing a lawsuit and other charges against him in his own court. Gus needed more fun like that. They'd only talked briefly, but Mr. Coppertwist had given him insights into the workings of the Barony of Gadobhra and revealed that the Gnomes of Cinderstein planned to invest time and people into the area. The blessing of the Gnomish banking system was not something anyone with a bit of intelligence took lightly. Which frustrated many of the Barons who were seeking Williams's downfall.

The other person was the Butcher. They'd talked long during his birthday party and he'd provided very good information about the Baron. And willingly. The man had tossed aside his Imperial Aura and then politely answered all of his questions. He still hoped to go sailing with the Butcher someday. Hopefully, his son would grow up quickly and he could retire. Or run away from home. With a flying ship, he just might get away.

Putting aside happy thoughts of ditching his bodyguards and sailing to the Smoke, he began opening the messages. As expected, most were from concerned nobles reminding him of what happened when someone was lax enough to allow their peasants to gain levels. The threat of larger monsters was ingrained in them. But more was the threat to their pocketbooks and castles. They feared what might happen if anyone raised a large, high-tier army. (Especially if it wasn't them or a close relative.)

And they could hardly be convinced that the Baron's people were 'just laborers' when the stories running rampant proved quite the opposite. The Bards were curiously vague about the brave Courier who slew a demon-infested paladin in front of the Inquisition, or the Firewalker who fought against Winter terrorists, survived cannons, and tore down buildings. But they were always associated with the Baron of Gadobhra. Claudia's latest report gave him even more fanciful tales, including the vanquishing of a terrible Cyclone.

That double report from Claudia and Themis had been interesting. The Baron had proved to be both resourceful and cunning in using his people to the fullest. Without them, Winter would have been the victor in a lopsided fight and he'd have lost valuable allies. Instead, the southern part of Grultain was warming and Winter was retreating. And all it had taken was enough gold to make the accountants whimper in pain and agony as they drew up the paperwork. Gus didn't care. He'd ordered Themis to spend money. Gold was easier to replace than good men. Legion morale would have been crushed to lose hundreds of their own. Instead, casualties were unbelievably low, at least on the Empire's side. The same couldn't be said of Winter.

"Bring me a map of Northern Grultain." The map appeared immediately and the Emperor peered over it. It was always good to refresh your knowledge before making decisions. As he remembered, Gadobhra was in the far north, separated by a long mountain range and impassable swamps from the rest of the Empire. Rowan Keep sat in the middle of the narrow pass leading south. Gadobhra was protected by the Keep, and the Empire was protected from Gadobhra. More importantly, the strategic resources that Baron William was building up were protected. Armies moved on their stomachs and stomachs needed meat and bread.

Running south from Rowan, the road came to Hurlsford. It was a large town, but not heavily protected. Winter would hit it hard soon, hoping to draw out the forces at Rowan Keep and weaken the defense. He also expected that their forces would menace Dalesford and the long line of small villages along the road to Thunderhead. Two of the messages had mentioned those villages. Some people felt that the Baron of Gadobhra was increasing his reach. He was buying up land, planting crops, and spending money. The nearby villages certainly didn't mind, but other nobles were upset at the move.

Baron Pinchpenny in Northguard strangely wasn't one of them. He seemed to care little about what happened to his people. Under his watch, the roads had deteriorated and his people had moved to greener pastures. (A polite way of putting it.) Gus was greatly bothered by the fact that a hereditary Baron with so much land and a large Legion Fortress at his disposal could behave this way. A dozen letters and messages went unanswered, and if he wasn't in the middle of a war, (Or two or three.), he'd have sent the Inquisition and Themis to pay him a visit and knock sense into him. Unfortunately, he needed Northguard, despite its silence and broken Teleport stone.

He also needed to protect Hurlsford, feed his armies, and fix the Teleport network so he could deal with Orcs in the South and maybe an incursion of Lizards from the tip of the Empire. Worries about the dangers of high-level peasants could wait for later. Right now he needed those groats and anything else they could provide. The ray of sunshine was the taxes that Baron William now owed for all those Tier two and three people working his fields. William was motivated by gold and the less he had, the more useful he'd be.

"Fetch me Procurator Smythe and his staff. Tell him to pack his bags and tax forms, I need him for an important mission."

The Procurator, normally an early riser, had also had a late night. The high stacks of accounting needed to keep Baron Zim, Etherhart, and Hardhurdle honest weren't going to sort themselves out. He'd instructed his bodyguards to keep everyone away from him until noon, so was surprised when Sanguine knocked on his door, entered, and handed him a scroll with the Imperial Seal stamped so recently that the wax was still warm and soft. He read it three times, then rolled it up and tucked it into his robe.

"Assemble my staff please, full compliment, and we'll be gone for some time, so pack everything. Three carriages, I'd say. Then call for Procurator Jenkins. He's annoyed me lately with his stories of sunny vacations at the shore. He's being too obvious in the money he's spending and obviously needs more work. Dump all the pending paperwork on my desk to him. Mention that this transfer of my workload is by the direct order of Emperor Gustavus and that I'll be out of town for some time. He's not going to be enjoying that beach house for a long time."