Braydon was up early the next morning, much to his chagrin. He had some fundamental disagreements with mornings that they could not get past. Today would have to be an exception, his group needed to make good time to reach Cliforge Castle before it got too late in the day. There would be much to do when he arrived, not least because his fief had all too recently been a battlefield, and from the contents of the reports that had arrived in Fiton it was not in a good state. It was decided that they would skip eating in the morning so they could make it to Wathamalin by noon. Instead, they would eat there and buy any supplies that would be needed for the rest of the journey.
“When do you say we will reach town, Rhydian, it appears Steven is not comfortable with riding quite yet.” Braydon commented upon looking at the discomfort on his attendant’s face.
“It should not be long yet, Sire, we’ve been on the road for some time and it is almost midday.” Rhydian looked to be in fine fettle compared to the rest of the party, partly due to experience from age that was beginning to show on his greying temples.
Braydon nodded, distracted by the wagon that they were approaching from behind. It had appeared in the distance as they turned a bend. It was lightly guarded by men with mismatched armour, a small group of mercenaries, numbering about ten.
“That looks like a small convoy for a merchant to be taking does it not?” Gerald had a point, a single wagon would not be enough for a merchant to make a trip, it might not even cover the costs of his escort.
“He’s either carrying something very valuable and doesn’t want to draw attention to it, or he’s been relieved of his goods when on the road.” Rhydian commented, either disinterested in the topic of conversation or having seen it too many times to care. Braydon was inclined to think the latter.
They quieted as they approached closer to the caravan, if one wagon could be called as such. The guards appeared to be rather undamaged to have been robbed on the road. The man who appeared to be the leader of the guard kept his eye upon their small group, whilst the merchant driving the wagon appeared more nervous at the sight of such well armed passers by. As Braydon’s group gradually passed the caravan none of them looked back at the merchant’s men.
“Still think that merchant was robbed of his belongings, Rhydian.” Braydon said after waiting enough that he was sure they were out of earshot.
“Unlikely, Sire.”
Braydon rubbed his scar, going deep into thought, what was in that wagon and where was it going?
It was a few hours after midday, having passed through Wathamalin as midday came and went, Braydon thought it would be dark by the time he reached his lands but he could see the mountain range that would denote the start of his territory in the distance.
“The castle blocks the pass of the Brimstone Mountains, we should arrive before evening, Sire.” Steven reminded his liege. Braydon was unsure if he should be glad that the Castle was on the near side of his territory, on account of his shortened journey. It meant that the rest of his territory was on the east of the mountains, making it was prime area for armies to fight when war came to the kingdom.
“I am glad that the Grand Duke’s men never got around to besieging the castle, that’s at least one less thing I need to have repaired.” Braydon sighed, once again thinking of the state that his lands have been left in after the war.
“Just as well, Earl Isaac took half of the garrison to battle with him.” Gerald’s quip did nothing to relieve Braydon’s headache. He wondered what possessed his father to do such a thing when he had already levied troops from his Earldom to fight. Most of the levy had been able to return, with most of his father’s knights, in the three days before he left Heimron. It so happened that the garrison of his castle were not amongst the lucky ones and now Braydon was feeling the pinch.
He once again felt the pinch when he rode up to the castle with his companions 2 hours before sun down, noticing a rather small garrison for such a castle. After the guards let them in, the first thing Braydon did was ask for the chamberlain and the head of the garrison to meet him immediately.
The Squires took the horses to the stables, whilst Steven had one of the men on guard duty bring a servant to guide Braydon and his knights. None of Braydon or his brothers had stepped foot in the viscounty and the neglect it had received for generations had not been a great incentive to visit. Having been led to what would now be his study, Braydon noted the place had been neatly kept. At least the servants were diligent, he wouldn’t need to replace more people than his father’s losses had made him.
“Come in.” A knock on the door had roused him from his thoughts as an elder with a kindly disposition and a small pair of reading glasses perched on his nose opened the door.
“Greetings, my liege, I am the Chamberlain of this castle Colin Stanton, appointed by your grandfather. If you have any questions about the finances of your lands I would be happy to answer.”
“Let us wait for the leader of the guards before we start, no point in wasting too much time.” Braydon was more interested in having a decent meal after his travels and did not want to prolong his duties on the day he arrived, he knew he’d be busy from now on anyway.
“My liege” Just as Braydon finished speaking, footsteps could be heard coming down the hall resulting in a stout man in full armour appearing in the room as Steven closed the door behind him.
“I am Corban Braun, vice leader of the garrison, at your service.”
“Let me guess, the leader of the garrison went with my father.” Braydon sighed with resignation, wondering what other presents his father had left him. The silence from both men confirming his statement, eliciting another more drawn out sigh from Braydon.
“Let’s start with the most pressing matter, how many men does this castle have left, Braun?”
“There are 27 members of the garrison, Sire, all salaried men.” That was a relief, at least his garrison wouldn’t need to go look after their family or tend to a harvest at inconvenient times.
“And Master Stanton, what does the predicted income look like? How badly have the villages been affected by the war?” He had no hopes for good news from Colin but he would have to know his situation if he wanted to deal with it.
“Whilst most of the villages have been raided of most of their coin and food, we were lucky than none of them were razed and the people were left alone for the most part.”
“At last some good news.” Braydon said in self mockery, there would be no money in the near future, and he needed to hire half a garrison.
“If I may, Sire?”
“Go on, Master Stanton.”
“Whilst the peasants have no coin at the moment, the crops are due to be harvested in the next month, and most of the fields have been left untouched, not even raiders have use for crops that are not ready for harvest.”
“And what would the income during autumn harvests be?” Braydon was now paying more attention. There would be income and a lot of it, if he could tide himself over for the next month.
“A normal year of good harvest would net us 3000 silver ducats in taxes, tolls during this time would amount to another 600; With the damages from the war, I would estimate our income would be about 2300 in taxes and 300 in tolls due to less merchants coming through, Sire.”
“That’s brilliant news.” Braydon stood up from his chair.
“What are our expenditures, and how much coin do we have on hand?” This would be a major hurdle, especially if he couldn’t even pay what remains of his garrison.
“Our largest expenditure would be the garrison. The men receive a salary of 5 silver per month, normally setting us back 3000 each year, though that cost now stands at 1620 in a year. Upkeep of the castle would be 200 silver, and the other servants cost 300 silver in a year, bringing annual costs to 2120 silver as we stand. On hand we have another 300 silver.” Braydon was glad that they were still earning money. But he would not be able to hire another 23 men and equip them for the garrison in the next month with a mere 300 silver, money that would also need to be spent on food and other trivial expenses for the next month.
“How much do we earn in a normal month?” It would be all well and good earning a profit of 480 silver in a year, but that would not leave him with much room to maneuver, especially if social events and noble guests came knocking on his door.
“Merchants do not often come through our lands, Sire, it would be easier to sail around the coast than have to deal with the tolls of several nobles when they can sail directly from the capital, Boshil, to Narabun, the capital of Shuluk, sea trade is not included in the embargo. In a given month, excluding harvest month in September, we earn 100 silver. And that is tolls on the peasants leaving the viscounty to sell their goods in Wathamalin.”
“Thank you, you both are dismissed for the night. Rhydian will temporarily oversee the garrison, Braun will stay vice leader until we have a full garrison again. Gerald you shall be my guard for the foreseeable future.” Braydon was satisfied with the information he had been given today and wanted to take the rest of the evening to think about it before deciding on a course of action.
