Chapter 133: Watch Your Tongue
"My Lord, next should be Prince Augustus, right?"
After the banquet ended, Prince Gerad, surrounded by his guards, retired to the castle. At this moment, Aiden suddenly spoke to Simon.
Simon nodded. This time, being forced to play the fool and defend Dunmere, he certainly wouldn’t do it without sufficient benefits.
From south to north, east to west, he intended to extort them all. Even if he couldn’t get anything, he would at least send letters. At a time like this, expecting him to spend silver to buy coal and iron was nothing short of treachery.
He could easily use this as grounds to complain to Alaric.
"Right, the Prince Augustus, Prince Ravencrest, Prince Aurelia. None of them should be spared. Send letters to all of them. Whoever refuses to contribute, we’ll submit memorials to Eldora." Simon said.
His memorial had mentioned using silver to purchase supplies, but the premise was that the other vassal kings would send troops in support. Now, with him standing alone, if they weren’t willing to pay for his efforts, who would willingly play the fool?
Aiden smirked mischievously. "My Lord, leave this matter to me. I’ll make sure these vassal kings cough up something."
Simon had full confidence in this cunning advisor. "Go ahead. If you succeed, this prince will reward you handsomely."
Acknowledging the order, Aiden and Baldwin headed to the Governor’s Office.
Simon then made his way to Brambleford City. With Prince Gerad here, he would undoubtedly try to gather intelligence about the city. Simon needed Gius to stay vigilant, especially regarding the artillery moulds being crafted in the Armaments Department.
Before submitting his memorial to Eldora, he had already summoned Fjord to study the issue of artillery moulds day and night.
Given the current situation, bronze cannons were out of the question; he couldn’t afford them. Even if he gathered all the copper in his domain, he could only produce a few at most.
Bronze cannons weren’t much better. Brambleford lacked significant reserves of copper, lead, or tin. After much deliberation, he could only opt for cast-iron cannons.
Although cast-iron cannons were less durable than those made of bronze or copper and more prone to explosions, given the short timeframe, this was the only way to produce more artillery.
Thanks to blast furnace iron smelting and crucible steelmaking, Brambleford’s steel output had increased dramatically.
Moreover, the system contained ready-made information on cast-iron cannons. He didn’t need to go through the trial-and-error phase of early cannon development but could directly apply mature casting techniques to produce them.
Even so, some technical challenges remained insurmountable. The success rate for cast-iron cannons was estimated at only 30-40%. In other words, for every ten cannons produced, only three or four would be usable, as many barrels would crack during cooling due to thermal expansion and contraction.
The internal mould water-cooling technique required to ensure barrel integrity was beyond Brambleford’s current capabilities. They would need steam engines before even considering it.
As Simon had anticipated, Prince Gerad was not one to sit idly by in Brambleford. His men were busy gathering information about recent ’interesting events’ in the city.
Naturally, most of what they learned revolved around the noble families, followed by novelties like newspapers and glass.
"Newspapers? How intriguing."
Newspapers were plentiful in the castle, and Prince Gerad easily obtained a copy from Simon to peruse.
Simon stayed close to Prince Gerad, doing his best to keep this restless uncle in check.
Rather than letting him snoop around, it was better to show him what could be revealed.
"Uncle, if you like it, you could try something similar in your domain," Simon said, subtly leading Prince Gerad into a trap.
The reason he could publish newspapers was due to movable-type printing and advanced papermaking techniques.
"That won’t be necessary. Though it’s similar to the notices at the city gates."
Prince Gerad was no fool. The identical script in the newspapers clearly wasn’t handwritten by scholars. Simon undoubtedly had a special method, but Prince Gerad wasn’t particularly interested. To him, letting commoners know so much was pointless.
After glancing at the newspaper, Prince Gerad picked up a piece of glass. "Nephew, the reaver invasion must have hit your business hard, no?"
With war looming, merchants usually fled from danger, especially since most were connected to various vassal kings.
Yet, far from declining, Brambleford’s commerce seemed more bustling than ever. Merchants worried about the war speculated that if Brambleford fell, its goods would become rare treasures, driving prices sky-high.
"Indeed, it has. My Chamber of Commerce has actually been earning more silver lately. We’ve received plenty of goods in lieu of payment, grain, copper, iron, cloth, and the like. That’s precisely why I dare defend Dunmere."
Prince Gerad seethed inwardly. He didn’t know what evil spirit had possessed this kid, but lately, everything seemed to go his way.
Meanwhile, despite his earlier manoeuvring, Prince Gerad found himself plagued by misfortune.
"This glass is quite remarkable. I want to buy some on my return. How much do you have left?" Prince Gerad changed the subject.
Once glass production scaled up and artisans honed their skills, output increased rapidly. Brambleford now had a substantial stockpile.
"Uncle, you can have as much as you want," Simon replied.
Prince Gerad nodded, enamoured with the glass. He planned to use it lavishly to decorate his palace upon returning.
However, he had also heard that glass wasn’t cheap; a single bottle cost at least twenty or thirty taels of silver.
In truth, another reason Simon stayed close to Prince Gerad was to ensure he quickly sent someone back to his domain to arrange the delivery of coal and iron.
Having seen Brambleford’s novelties, Prince Gerad was somewhat satisfied. Yet he knew Brambleford’s real secrets lay in the Armaments Department, a place no outsider had ever entered.
"Very well. I’ll have someone prepare silver to exchange for glass and gather iron and coal to send to Brambleford." Prince Gerad said slowly.
Summoning a guard, he whispered a few instructions, and the man departed.
Then, he turned to Simon. "Nephew, if the reavers breach Dunmere, your prosperous Brambleford will be lost. Soap, glass, and fine wine will all become extinct. The Eldorian Empire’s vibrant world will be destroyed. By then, no matter how much you have, there’ll be nowhere to sell it."
"Uncle speaks wisely," Simon said lazily.
This was precisely why he had to defend Dunmere at all costs. The Eldorian Empire couldn’t afford chaos, not yet. If the order collapsed, where would he sell his goods? Without silver, how could he develop his domain?
At the very least, he and Prince Gerad shared a common goal this time: to temporarily maintain the empire’s fragile balance for their own ends.
As they spoke, Ysabeau called from outside the door. "My Lord!"
"What is it?" Simon asked.
"There’s a man named Liam at the gate requesting an audience. He claims to be the son of General Lancet."
Pfft! Prince Gerad spat out his tea.