The first thing Carlo did when he returned to Ijssel from War was head home and make love to his wife. Something about victory had gotten his blood up and his ardor going, even though it never had that effect before. Fortunately, Elena was more than happy to go along with it, and he had scarcely been back in the citadel long enough to shuck his campaign jacket, boots, and riding cloak at the foot of his bed before he laid eyes on his wife for the first time in several weeks and his little ensign immediately leaped to attention in his breeches. All thoughts fled from his mind as he rushed to her and began to kiss her passionately. Like a man possessed he rained urgent kisses along her neck and collarbone, the dress she was wearing exposing an ample amount of both.
For her part, Elena was more than happy to reciprocate, pulling Carlo into an embrace and sharing a long, deep, kiss, while her ample cleavage pressed pleasantly against his chest. Neither seemed to care that Carlo was fresh off the road and in need of a bath. Carlo's dander was up, and his wife was just happy to have him home alive and in one piece. They broke the kiss with Elena giving Carlo a playful nip on his bottom lip as they pulled apart. Carlo gave a throaty growl and began working off his belt while Elena began to unfasten the strings of her corset and the buttons of her dress. They soon found themselves on the bed, in the throes of passion.
Around an hour later, the pair of them lay on the bed, with Carlo behind Elena, arm draped over her waist, and Elena snuggled up next to Carlo's chest. They lay there, cuddling, getting their breath back, and just generally enjoying each other's company before Elena turned around slightly, propping herself up on one elbow even as she continued to snuggle into Carlo.
"War hero, conquerer, and good in bed too. I knew there was a reason I married you." Smirked Elena, teasingly.
"I thought you married me because I charmed you out of your dress with a bottle of Dwarven Grog and the head of an Orc Warboss?" Grinned Carlo, rakishly.
"That too. There may have also been a certain amount of gratitude about still being alive involved. I can't remember, too much grog was had that night." She allowed.
"Ah, you always know the right things to say, my love." Chuckled Carlo.
"Shut up and hold me." Snorted Elena as she snuggled into him.
At that moment, Carlo thought that all the questions of principalities and war casualties, of administration and supply, all of it could wait forever. All he needed was his beautiful wife, his soft bed, and maybe a drink or two if he got thirsty. This moment, he figured, was the closest to perfect he'd ever had in his life. He wanted to stretch it out for a good long while. Unfortunately, those questions could not wait forever. Carlo would need to call his council together to get on top of them. After a few more moments, he pulled himself together and headed to the privy. First, he would wash himself, then he would call the council to order.
The day was still young, after all. . .
XXXX
Around three hours later, edging towards two in the afternoon, Carlo's awaited the arrival of his council in the same chamber he had met them in previously. It was not an actual council chamber, and was instead, what could best be termed a Map Room. Carlo had chalked it up to urgency, given the recent deprivations of siege and blockade, but his wife informed him that this was indeed the usual meeting place for the Council. The table hadn't been brought in special from another, more damaged part of the citadel as he'd believed at the time of his last meeting.
In retrospect, the pair of manikins that were armored in different fashions may also have been deliberate displays of trophies, rather than hastily appropriated spare armor meant to puff up the importance of the council in the eyes of their new count. One was the scale over leather armor, spiked and fur-lined conical helm, and saber of a Kislevite Druzhina, the lowest rank of Kislevite Nobility. The other was an imperial-style full-plate harness for a knight or nobleman, replete with a coat of arms, a gray bridge on a blue field. Both of the suits of armor showed fatal battle damage, the knight's full plate had a bullet hole through the roundel, the kind that pierces the smaller plate and the lighter chain underneath, that enters the body through the armpit, and rattles around the ribcage till it destroys a vital organ. The Kislevite armor's boiled leather collar appeared to have been cut through with a blade of some kind, piercing through the throat from the front and taking out the jugular of the wearer.
Both wounds spoke of precision damage, neither would have felled an Orc like Bigsmasha. The pistol shot would have been deflected off the Orc's thick ribcage, and the strike to the neck would have had to go all the way through and decapitated him to kill him. Judging by the weapons that Carlo had seen by the late Maartin van den Meer's corpse during the boarding of Bigsmasha's flagship, a brace of pistols and a rapier, these were likely trophies from battles he'd won. Carlo had to give it to his late, lamented, father-in-law, the man seemed to have known how to use the tools he had, even if those tools were less than optimal against an Orc Warboss like Bigsmasha had been.
Of course, the armor wasn't the main attraction, it was a map room, after all. Sailing charts and illustrated maps written in half a dozen languages lined the walls. Most were in the ubiquitous Reikspiel or the Nederspraak of Marienburg and the Wasteland. These included one in Nederspraak that seemed to show the Land Route to Ind as well as a detailed map in Reikspiel of the Border Princes as they were fifteen years ago. One was in Bretonaise, detailing the path the Brettonian Crusaders had taken through the vaults some twenty-five years ago when they established the Grand Duchy of Bouellia, the Barony of Mont Blanc, and the Seigneurie of Quaterain. There was also a map of sea lanes in the Sea of Claws annotated in Gospodar script that appeared to show safe routes from Erengrad to Ulthuan.
Some were in various Tilean dialects, he saw one in Lucchese that charted a journey starting in Lucini and ending in Nuevo Luccini in the New World and mapped much of the coast between it and the Norscan Colony of Skeggi. Yet another was written in classical Reman and showed the sea route to Araby. With annotations of the best routes to avoid pirate attacks. A fourth was in Miraglanese and showed the Ivory Sea Route to the New Coast of the Southlands as it was at the time it was being established over 30 years ago. Another was written in Sartosan Creole and annotated in Reikspiel and cataloged the Southern Coast of the New World between the Pirate Den of Port Reaver and the Free Port of Swamp Town.
Others were written in strange dialects that Carlo could not read. One appeared written in some kind of pictograms formed of a number of irregularly shaped dashes branching out from a vertical line like a tree and a detailed map of some island of some kind. Carlo had tried to decipher it but could make neither hide nor hair of it. One looked to be marked in the angular, geometric, dwarven script and appeared to be a map of a pass through the World's Edge mountains to a Place called Pigbarter and the start of the True Silk Road. Carlo could only read that thanks to the helpful translations provided in Nederspraak, though some of the runes went as yet untranslated, the translator was seemingly only concerned with major points. Yet another was painted on silk instead of leather, vellum, or parchment, and inscribed with the strange runes of Cathay. It appeared to show travel along the Silk Road, though Carlo could not read Cathayan and only pieced it together thanks to the Dwarven map ending at Pigbarter where the Cathayan map began. Finally, one was in the flowing script of Araby that outlined the borders of what the Reikspiel translation told him was called the Land of the Dead, complete with a warning not to enter. None of the rest of the map was translated so Carlo didn't believe he even could enter if he wanted.
Eventually, some twenty minutes passed by with Carlo admiring the decor before his council began to trickle in. Karoline Blaumann was the first to arrive, in sensible clothing for an excursion no less, leather breeches, sturdy boots, and a cotton chemise rather than a dress or courtly shoes. Carlo cocked an eyebrow at his diplomatic advisor at her attire and she cocked an eyebrow back at him.
"Your summons caught me mid-hike, I felt it best to arrive speedily rather than waste time with fripperies. Do you have an issue with what I'm wearing, Excellency?" She challenged.
"Not at all, your promptness is appreciated. In fact, you're the first here." Returned Carlo.
"You would think at least that the de Roelefs would have instilled the value of promptness in Eric. He does live close enough by that he should have beaten me here." Frowned Karoline.
Eric de Roelef entered the room even as Carlo's Diplomatic Advisor uttered those words, dressed in a white silk doublet slashed with black, matching pantaloons, and cavalier boots. He arrived huffing and puffing as if he'd double-timed it.
"Speak of the Daemon and he shall appear. Did you run here?" Questioned Carlo.
"Apologies. Your summons caught me as I was entertaining family. We weren't expecting you back till tonight." Explained Eric de Roelef after he'd caught his breath.
"Family?" Queried Carlo.
"My cousins are in port. Something about wanting to see the 'backwater we paid good guilders for before some Greenskin or Corsair burns it to the ground' they said." Quoted Eric.
"Condolences, they sound awful." Frowned Carlo.
"Oh, they are. The Family's only had successful businesses to work with for two generations yet they act as if we're still the power in the Wasteland, rather than the directorate. Claudius only wants to drink, fight, and whore his way around the ports of the Southern Sea and Frederika is a shrew whose words cut deeper than Claudius' blade. I'm actually thankful that Cousin Jacobus is older than Claudius by a year and a bit. If Claudius was going to inherit the leadership of the family, I think I'd kill myself out of familial shame. He's an idiot, but family cannot be helped, so I'm stuck entertaining till they leave port." Groused Eric de Roelef.
"Would not their father be the heir? I was led to believe the Count was old enough to have a middle-aged son." Asked Carlo.
"Unfortunately, Uncle Wilhelmus died in a duel with a man half his age over spilled wine a couple of years back. You can see where Claudius got his temperament from. Jacobus is more like Aunt Giselle mixed with Great Uncle Pieter. He has Aunt Giselle's wits and Great Uncle Pieter's sense of judgment. I think he'll be good for the family. Frederika on the other hand, she got half of Aunt Giselle's wits and all of Uncle Wilhelmus' temper. A bad combination for anyone." Sighed Eric de Roelef.
While Eric was lamenting his family troubles, Jan Willem Dejong arrived in a silk doublet of crimson slashed with green that did little to hide his girth, along with matching pantaloons, silk hose, and leather shoes with silver buckles. He bore an ebony walking cane topped with silver and had a capotain hat with a green feather in it. He walked into the room sedately with the tapping of his cane on the stone floor the only sound to be heard.
"Where were you to be dressed like that?" Questioned Carlo.
"Apologies, Excellency, but I was attending a party being thrown by the recently arrived Domatburg Delegation. The Ambassador, Freiherr Hans Ulrich von Stahl was quite eager to meet with someone in your government as quickly as possible, since we thought that you and General Luccia would not be back until this evening, with young Eric tied up entertaining family, and since I could not get ahold of Mistress Blaumann, I took it upon myself to call on them. I must say, the army made good time returning home. We thought it would take you four more hours to return at the earliest, though Mistress Blaumann thought the latest you would arrive would be tomorrow noon. I do not see General Luccia, however. Did he not return with you?" Explained Jan Willem Dejong.
"He's currently fetching Admiral Karolski, I have some plans for the navy that require his input. What's this about a delegation from Domatburg?" Asked Carlo.
"They arrived late yesterday, much too late to get in touch with anyone. Their diplomatic letter said only that they were leasing a townhouse near the Myrmidens Embassy in the Upper Town to use as an embassy, that they wished to speak on matters of joint interest, that they would arrive within a fortnight, and that we could speak to the townhouse's prior owner to confirm the lease." Answered Karoline Blaumann.
"Indeed, they have been watching your campaign against Bouellia with interest, and their ruler, Pfalzgraf Paul Emil von Stahl has been urged by his brother, Hierophant von Stahl of the Imperial College of Light to treat with us. They want a trade agreement, closer ties, and also a meeting with you, Excellency. In person." Informed Jan Willem Dejong.
"Von Stahl, Von Stahl, and Von Stahl. Brothers?" Queried Carlo.
"Indeed. Three dispossessed noble brothers from Solland who wound up on the wrong side of a dynastic squabble between Elector Ludwig Abel von Toppenheimer of Solland and Elector Georg Philip von Liebowitz of Wissenland. They were leading their guards and some levies against a Goblin Warband that had come out of the mountains south of Nuln when their father, a supporter of Elector von Toppenheimer, was accused of being a cultist of the Dark Gods. Whether the evidence was genuine is officially unclear, though it's a safe bet that it was planted. Whatever the actual case, the Witch Hunters found a small, makeshift, shrine to the Dark Gods in a disused shed on the property, which was enough to find Graf von Stahl guilty of heresy. He was summarily executed and his lands seized. The Brothers von Stahl, rather than disband their army after clearing out the goblins and be forced to live as commoners, decided to march into the Border Princes and conquer a Principality of their own. That was fifteen years ago now. Pfalzgraf Paul rules as overall sovereign from Domatburg while his brothers serve as advisors." Explained Karoline Blaumann.
"How do you know so much about the Brothers von Stahl? Do we have spies in Domatburg?" Questioned Eric de Roelef.
"Nothing so blatant as that. I have a web of diplomatic contacts around the Border Princes and stretching into the southern parts of the Empire, such as Solland. I simply wrote to my contacts in Solland and Domatburg and tried to see if the two stories lined up. It wasn't difficult." Huffed Karoline Blaumann.
"Well, whatever their origin, they are offering quite lovely discounts for us to trade with them, their main trade goods are all things we can use too, iron, stone, timber, and tin can all be used to feed our manufactures, they also have amber mines that are quite lucrative, though, at the moment, they can only trade through the mountain passes to the Empire and Brettonia. If we can import their amber in bulk at a discount, we can export it at a significant markup to markets in Tilea and Estalia, places Domatburg doesn't have access to for lack of ports. I think that much is worth a personal meeting, wouldn't you agree, Excellency?" Asked Jan Willem Dejong.
"I do. Plus their timber will help build ships for our fleet, and their tin combines with our copper to help cast cannons to arm them." Nodded Carlo.
Just then, Dante Luccia and Stanislaw Karolski entered the meeting room. Dante dressed in a fresh uniform doublet and breeches instead of the dusty one he'd worn on the ride home from war, and Stanislaw dressed in his everpresent bearskin cloak over his silk shirt and leather breeches, even in the heat of the Border Princes. Carlo supposed you could take the Kislevite out of Kislev, but not the Kislev out of the Kislevite, though now that he thought on it, he found the wordplay there lacking. Regardless, he nodded to the pair of fighting men.
"Are we late, Mio Capitano?" Questioned Dante Luccia.
"No, you're right on time." Grinned Carlo.
Now the meeting could begin in earnest. . .
XXXX
AN: Sorry this took so long, just got back from a trip with no internet.
Anyway, yeah, the Brothers Von Stahl are going to be integral to the attempt to build up Ijssel to take on whoever else Khypris can pull into their Anti-Ijssel League. And not just economically, though that'll be a big part of it.
And of course, de Roelef Family Drama also isn't going to just stay in the background either. Claudius and Frederika de Roelef are just the worst kinds of nobles. Imagine Jaime Lannister with none of the charm and only half of the talent, and Cersei Lannister if she was somehow even more blatant about being a harpy and you get the idea. They make for piss-poor nemeses, but excellent catspaws for folks looking to intrigue in Ijssel.
As to the fade to black at the start of this chapter, there's a more extensive NSFW version of that bit over on the QQ version of this story. Check that out if you're into that sort of thing.
At any rate, the next chapter will get into the nitty gritty of administration, then we'll be at a meeting with Freiherr Hans Ulrich von Stahl and get to see what it is the Brothers von Stahl want