Chapter 43

Winter had arrived in Korelia, and the landscape had turned into a beautiful white blanket of snow. As was the norm, many of the original staff had gone on leave to spend time with their families. However, this custom was not for the benefit of the staff, but mostly due to the constraint of the castle’s design.

Built mainly as a defensive structure, it had limited living space. When the outside castle grounds were buried in snow, the castle’s inhabitants were forced to conduct all their activities in the great hall.

This winter, around twenty staff, a dozen retainers, and guardsmen shared the castle’s limited living space.

Despite the lack of space, they carried on with their daily activities. Training, lunch, downtime, supper, and sleeping were done in the great hall. There, the younger staff members learned to read and write under the tutelage of their seniors, while some even practiced poetry, music, or singing.

The place was lively, but despite Lansius’s effort to free some space, comfort and personal space were still a challenge.

As for Lansius, he spent most of his time in the Great Chamber, a private place reserved only for the lord’s family. Without one, he surrounded himself with his closest circle around the large fireplace.

The chamber was a good place to relax, with a high ceiling that made it airy and more spacious. Its walls were fully plastered and painted white, while the ceiling boasted colorful decorative plants and floral patterns.

In there, Lansius ate, read books, and chatted with Audrey, Cecile, and Stirling about everything. However, two topics were off-limits: his origin as a farmer in Bellandia and his true origin.

For Lansius, the time was a well-deserved break away from guests and other responsibilities. Only at the start of winter could he enjoy a peaceful dinner.

Not everything was as enjoyable as he wished. Every day without fail, Audrey would drag him up for sword training and indoor archery.

Today, after sword and archery training, Lansius was talking with Stirling, who showed a keen interest in how Lansius had solved Korelia’s rising grain prices.

Lansius, bundled up in three layers of thick clothing and a warm fur coat, winced as he shifted in his padded chair, the bruises from a brutal sword sparring session still fresh on his skin. “First, tell me everything you know about the situation.”

Stirling, the only one standing in the room, straightened his back and gathered his thoughts.

The crackling from the fireplace filled the Great Chamber as they waited for an answer. Sitting next to Lansius, Audrey and Cecile also showed interest in the topic.

“My lord arranged for thirty carts to travel to Midlandia to purchase food.”

“Go on,” Lansius said.

“But while the merchants bought grains, my lord ordered all ten of your military carts to buy salt secretly.”

“That’s correct. Please continue.”

“After that . . . my lord paid the workers in salt. Also bought sheep and meat with salt. And then everybody seemed to have enough food for winter.” Stirling expressed his confusion.

Lansius smiled as Audrey and Cecile watched him intently. The two were also curious.

“Try to answer this question: is the problem in Korelia the rising price of grain, or the lack of grain?” Lansius prompted the group.

The lad and lass furrowed their brows, clearly thinking hard. Meanwhile, Audrey pursed her lips and looked away.

“You should give it a try,” Lansius encouraged.

Audrey held onto her golden fur coat tightly before stating, “I’m only interested in solving problems with steel.”

Lansius let out a chuckle. “You’ll make a poor baroness if you think that way.”

“I only need the money, not the title,” Audrey responded without any hint of regret.

Lansius snorted and shook his head in amusement.

Meanwhile, Cecile and Stirling listened intently. As the lord’s closest confidants, the two were privy to such information. While at first, the lord and Audrey tried to conceal it, they eventually grew tired and displayed it openly in front of the two.

Lansius, thinking he had given enough time for Stirling to think, eventually asked, “So, what’s your answer?”

Stirling drew a deep breath before answering, “The problem in Korelia is the rising price of grain, not the lack of it.”

“Exactly. As was usual after harvest, there was enough grain in Korelia. The only problem was the price.”

Stirling nodded, while Cecile and Audrey kept looking with great interest.

“To lower the price, we could bring grain from outside, but we know it won’t be enough. After all, thirty carts of grain cannot feed a whole town and troops through winter and spring,” Lansius mused.

“That’s what happened, right?” asked Audrey.

Lansius nodded. “Indeed, the merchants bought twenty carts of grain, and the Lord of Midlandia gave us another ten. But that only pushed the price down for . . . four days? As more people buy, the price will always rise.”

“Then, my lord, why don’t you force the merchants to lower the price?” Stirling asked.

Lansius leaned forward, emphasizing his point. “A town needs merchants. They’re the ones risking their lives and money to bring goods to us. It’s not the nobles, but the merchants who purchase linens, medicine, or even a simple iron nail from other places and bring them through winding routes to Korelia.”

Lansius glanced at Cecile’s face and saw that the girl was also listening intently.

“Coachmen and guardsmen need to eat and places to sleep, right?”

Cecile nodded quickly. “Of course, my lord.”

“And those cost money, correct?”

“They do. Even horses need fodder, and it’s not free,” answered Cecile.

Lansius chuckled. “Smart lass. You make your father proud.”

Cecile blushed and found herself staring at the stone floor. Audrey patted her on the back gently, saying, “Take the praise and wear it proudly.”

Lansius focused on Stirling again. “Everything costs money. If you send people to buy things, you’ll rack up considerable traveling expenses. And those expenses will be counted toward the goods they carry. And only then they’ll take profit so they can embark on another journey.”

“But, my lord what’s this got to do with the price of grain?” asked Stirling.

“I wanted you to understand the merchants’ situation. Most of the time, they don’t govern the price. They’re merely buyers and sellers. If the price rises, they’re not the ones who are at fault.”

Stirling nodded deeply. The lord just challenged what his cruel knight master had taught him about merchants.

Lansius looked at Cecile and continued. “The merchants aren’t evil. They’re greedy, but mostly only motivated by profit. They have no schemes other than avoiding losses and getting a good trade.”

“Now that we have that cleared up, let’s move on to the topic of salt,” Lansius declared, sensing a growing interest. Deep into the winter, they had exhausted everything, so anything new was met with excitement.

“To me, salt is just another currency.”

“Currency, my lord?”

“You have gold coins, big silver, and small silver, also copper and iron. Think of them as currency.”

“I see.” The young squire nodded his head. “But, why salt?”

Lansius reached into his purse and drew two silvers. “There are at least two good reasons. Name one and get a coin.”

“Because salt is useful in meat curing, my lord,” the blonde blurted out.

“That’s correct, and here’s your prize.” With a smile, Lansius put a coin into Cecile’s open palm.

“Gratitude, my lord.”

“Now, is there any other reason?” Lansius asked the squire while showing a silver between his thumb and finger.

Stirling thought hard. “Because salt is expensive?”

Lansius smiled but balled his hand into a fist. “We all know that. In landlocked Lowlandia, salt is worth its weight in silver. Can you tell me the reason?”

“My lord, salt has many uses. For medicine, cooking, also alchemy,” answered Stirling proudly.

Lansius motioned for Stirling to take the coin.

“Gratitude, my lord.” The lad humbly accepted it.

The crackling from the fireplace again filled the chamber. This time, the flames had dwindled, and the embers were barely glowing. Cecile rose from her seat and hurriedly shoved two small logs of firewood into the fire.

“Salt is so expensive here. I’ve heard almost nobody in Korelia has even a plate of it in their homes,” Audrey commented.

“Only the richest and the town butcher have that much,” Cecile said as she returned to her seat.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Stirling stood uncomfortably. “But why is only my lord buying salt? Why don’t the merchants buy grain too?”

“That’s because almost everybody in Korelia is poor. Merchants don’t stock items that people can’t buy,” Lansius explained.

Lansius watched the ember in the fireplace grow brighter and decided that he had provoked enough critical thinking in them. “Let’s summarize,” he began. “First, we don’t have the resources or time to transport enough grain to Korelia to lower the price.”

The trio understood that much. Nobody batted an eye.

“So, what I did was to bypass the high grain price using salt. Remember, the problem isn’t a shortage of grain in Korelia.” Lansius paused. “There’s enough grain in Korelia, in the merchants’ storages.”

They showed slight surprise.

Lansius continued. “Our problem is the merchants. They can’t sell their grain cheaply because they follow the market to maintain their margin.”

“And salt fixed it?” Audrey asked.

“Yup. The value of ten carts of salt we brought from Midlandia could probably purchase enough grain to feed Korelia for more than two years.”

The trio’s eyes widened in disbelief at the amount of grain that could be purchased. They exchanged surprised glances before Audrey spoke up. “But then, why make it complicated? If the goal is just to buy grain, why can’t you use silver and gold to buy grain?”

“That’s the monster hiding in the shadows,” Lansius remarked. “If you use silver to buy grain, the price will keep increasing in Korelia and neighboring cities. You can say the merchants will have so much silver that they don’t want it as much as before.”

Lansius could see that the concept was difficult to understand, but he pressed forward nonetheless. “However, if you use salt to buy grain, the price increase is small.”

“But why?” Stirling asked.

Lansius chuckled. “But you have answered it already. Remember, salt has many uses: to cure meat, medicine, and all. Meanwhile, silver is only good for trade, making cutlery, or jewelry. Silver has little real usage for common people, unlike salt.”

The trio began to grasp the concept.

Lansius knew he had his work cut out for him if they wished to learn more, but for now, he was satisfied that they were trying to understand the basic principles.

“That’s why salt is just as acceptable as silver or copper. It’s even better in our case because many Korelians can find real use for it.”

A currency that also has direct utility, imagine . . . No wonder the Romans loved it.

Lansius recalled how the word salary itself was believed to be derived from salarium or salt. Because the Romans once paid their soldiers with salt.

“I still don’t get it, but if it’s fixed, it’s fixed,” Audrey commented lightly while reaching out for her cup on the small table. Cecile readily filled her cup with pale ale.

“Though I’m still curious, how did you know that the merchants would react well with salt instead of the usual coins?” Audrey asked after she had sipped her drink.

“It was a gamble,” Lansius admitted. “But a currency that has real usage is powerful. It’s resilient and stable. That’s why the merchants played along. They took the risk because they can sell salt easily for profit outside of Korelia.”

As he finished his explanation, Lansius leaned back in his chair.

Stirling rubbed his chin as he pondered. Suddenly, Lansius recalled something, “And you know what the funny thing is?”

The trio looked at each other but mostly shrugged.

“It’s only working for Korelia.” The lord laughed, leaving his friend and two attendants puzzled.

Korelia was a special case. It had an unusually large number of poor shepherd families who benefited greatly from Lansius’s salt scheme. Salt was heavily used to preserve meat and make delicacies, such as sausages, ham, and long-lasting meat jerky.

Lansius hadn’t thought about it, but it was the missing component in Korelia’s nascent industry. With products to sell, many gained more than just enough to survive the winter.

Naturally, the same scheme wouldn’t work for other places whose main populace was farmers. A farming community didn’t need a large amount of salt. Thus, there was no incentive to take salt payment or use it as a bartering commodity.

Still, Lansius didn’t disclose everything. He kept the fact that his scheme to pay in salt was causing him to lose money, with a little loss on every payment. His treasurer, Calub, had raised concerns, but Lansius viewed it as an investment.

He wanted to give something to the people of Korelia, something for them to hope for other than just another war in the future.

But Lansius knew that despite averting famine, the threat of war loomed large. Despite all his preparations, there was a high chance that he would eventually need to abandon Korelia to its fate.