The Empress of Beasts, page 12
part #13 of The Wandering Inn Series
He chuckled and gestured towards the Council. They hesitated, but the time for hesitation was gone. Krshia nodded to herself. She’d fought for this seat. She had to earn it. She opened her mouth—and Lism beat her to the punch.
“Of course, we’ve a number of issues to discuss.”
He smirked at Krshia. She glared at him. There was going to be an unfortunate confrontation soon, and she’d readied herself for it. Lism went on, glancing at the old Council.
“However, I don’t know the uh, protocol for such things. So what do you do first?”
The old Council looked mildly surprised. One of the older Drakes rubbed his neck spines and chuckled.
“Oh yes, those issues. Well, Strategist Olesm usually has a list! We go through them and then leave. Olesm! What’s on today’s list?”
He waved a claw. Olesm sighed as he unfurled the rather long scroll of parchment. The old Council sighed and the new ones sat up.
“Well, Councilmembers, I do generally keep track of the Council’s issues by request. And I’ll note any future concerns. However, today’s list is substantial. The new Council must of course approve a budget for the Watch and issue an announcement to the city and so forth, but there are new concerns for this Council. Among them are the proposed changes to the city each er, party, has campaigned on.”
“Of course. Well, this is the heart of it.”
Ulseil sighed as he turned and looked around the room. He waved at Olesm.
“Strategist Swifttail will bring us an issue and we’ll debate it. Sometimes it’s as easy as voting to do something. Show of claws—excuse me, claws and paws—and we agree or not. Other times, we have to do some math. Agree on a budget—don’t worry, Swifttail will have the numbers. But there are a lot of new proposals you lot have campaigned on, haven’t you?”
He gave the Gnolls and Drakes a somewhat superior look.
“Well, we can discuss the issue now, but I think you’ll find it’s more complicated than just shelling out gold!”
“We?”
Krshia’s ears perked up. She turned to stare around at the old Council. Elirr and Raekea looked up. And so did Lism. Ulseil waved an airy claw.
“Just a bit of advice from the old Council! Perspective. After all, we know the ins and outs of running the city. You agree?”
He looked around. Krshia nodded reluctantly. That was true. She hesitated, and then coughed.
“Well, it seems we must talk about the deal to expand the city—”
“Without Antinium help. As my campaign pledged.”
Lism finished the sentence and sat back, satisfied. Krshia stared at him. And then polite civility broke down.
“You mean, your campaign stole from mine, you thief, Lism, you!”
“Hah! I knew it! You couldn’t wait one hour before you had to accuse my campaign of improving on your ideas!”
“I was the one who suggested expanding the city! What did your campaign come up with?”
Krshia snarled across the table. Ulseil looked wide-eyed at Lism, who laughed loudly back at her.
“Removing the Antinium element of course! And the city voted our party into power.”
“Because you stole our seats!”
Krshia howled back at him. Lism raised his claws.
“By popular vote—”
“Councilmembers!”
Ulseil didn’t manage to outshout either Drake or Gnoll, but he did silence them. He looked around, flustered.
“Please! Councilmembers, this is not a street argument! This is a civilized discussion! And any issues can be discussed! Frankly, I don’t think this debate will get us anywhere, because as I was saying, the reality of Liscor’s financial situation is that we might not be able to pay for any expansions to the walls!”
Silence fell over the new Council. Ulseil sat back, and another Councilmember chortled.
“Don’t you wish you’d talked to us, first?”
Lism stared at Ulseil. So did Krshia. Did they know something the public didn’t? Krshia felt a pit in her stomach and saw Elirr looking at her, alarmed. Lism spoke up into the silence.
“What do you mean, Councilmembers? We have a proposal. Expand the walls. It will generate new jobs, new commerce—”
“Yes, Councilmember Lism, but who will pay for the walls?”
“Well, we could increase the taxes on the dungeon and—”
Yalla cut in, not-very-apologetically.
“I’m afraid, what Ulseil means is that we can’t just…move around some numbers and come up with gold we don’t have, Councilmember Lism. Perhaps we could raise revenues here, but that doesn’t create gold. Our yearly budget is comprised of a number of sources including revenue from the guilds, taxes, trade, and so on, but it mainly comes from—”
“The army.”
Yalla broke off. Krshia blinked at her.
“I am sorry. Was that not what you meant to say?”
The Drake narrowed her eyes and Krshia felt a bit better. She didn’t like the condescending tone Yalla or the old Council had. Yalla cleared her throat.
“What I mean to say was that yes, Liscor’s army does send back a good deal of funds in exchange for the support we give them. We tend to use it up on necessary products, because the money from the rest of our taxes and so on is…limited. It’s always been a fact of living around Liscor. This is not a rich city like Salazsar or even Pallass.”
She shrugged. Lism frowned.
“Poor? But Liscor is the keystone city between north and south!”
Krshia rolled her eyes.
“Again, Lism? When the Council is saying to your face, that Liscor is not rich? Go travelling and you will understand! It is what I have been saying for years. Liscor is important. But not for the reasons you think. It is not economically strong!”
“Well, speaking as the Merchant’s Guild’s Guildmaster—”
“Be quiet, Silverfang. Liscor does have wealth! We export a vast amount of fish and fish-based products each spring. More than any other city, Human or Drake in a thousand miles!”
“That’s because they’re all landlocked. You idiot you, you wouldn’t know reality if someone hit you with a fish!”
Olesm watched in mild horror as Krshia stood up and leaned over the table and Elirr and Raekea dragged her back. Jeiss managed to do the same job on Lism’s end as Alonna shook her head. The rest of the Council looked horrified. But really, it was like watching Lism and Krshia go at it in the market. Their voices did echo a lot more in this room, though.
“Councilmember Lism! Councilmember Krshia! We do not shout! We debate issues.”
Ulseil held up his claws. Lism sat down with bad grace.
“I’m simply making the point to this Gnoll that Liscor has more sources of revenue than the army. Which she finds delight in deriding—”
“But how would you increase Liscor’s funds, Shopkeeper—er, Councilmember Lism? After all, we do have to fund the projects the city undertakes, and money is always tight. Please, some snacks will settle your mood. Pass the nuts, Ulseil? Oh, would you like some?”
Bowls of the sugar-coated nuts were passed around the table quickly. Olesm made a face at the rich food. Lism stared at the bowl and so did the Gnolls as they appeared in front of them. He glanced at Ulseil with a bit of irritation. This was the new Council after all. But he answered with forced politeness.
“Shield Spider silk, Councilwoman Yalla.”
He took a few nuts and popped them into his mouth. Instantly his expression changed for the worse. Olesm groaned. Lism hated sugary things.
“Shield Spider silk?”
The rest of the Council looked blank, except for Ulseil, who frowned. A bit worriedly. Krshia noticed that, as did Olesm. Lism exhaled as he crunched on some of the saccharine nuts. He frowned and spat his mouthful into the waste basket. Krshia lowered her nose directly over the bowl, gave it one deep sniff, and pushed it to one side. The other two Gnolls, Elirr and Raekea, did the same. The former Council watched in horror.
“Gah. Sorry. Too much sugar. Almost as bad as that Human makes in her inn. Anyways, where was I? Ah, right. Shield Spider silk. Liscor’s Floodplains are infested with Shield Spider nests. You can’t swing a dead rat for five seconds outside the walls without a spider climbing out of the ground and trying to eat you and it. And they’re worth money to the Adventurer’s Guild. Do you know how much you can get for a single Shield Spider corpse?”
Everyone except for Ulseil and Krshia shook their heads. Lism spread his claws.
“Eleven silver pieces for a fully-grown adult’s corpse if it’s unscratched and unmarked! Of course, that covers the hazard bounty on them, but it wouldn’t be that high if the corpse itself didn’t have value!”
“It wouldn’t?”
Tismel gave Lism a very curious look. The [Cobbler] winced as Lism raised his voice. The [Shopkeeper] struck the table, as if he were railing against the injustices of the world in his stall. He had an outside voice. But for once, it wasn’t annoying Krshia because she saw his point and grudgingly agreed with it.
“Of course not! You can use the body of a Shield Spider for any number of things! Silk and armor! They’re not called ‘Shield Spiders’ because they’re soft! Their hide—”
“Chitin.”
“—whatever is so tough you can use it as armor! But no one trades Shield Spider components in Liscor. It’s not worth the effort. Processing the damn silk takes classes and an industry we don’t have. But I’ve noticed that Shield Spider silk can make anything from thread to decent clothing if you can dye and weave it right. And Shield Spider chitin can be used to make a number of objects. About, oh, three decades back, I remember seeing Silver-rank adventurers wearing lamellar armor made out of chitin. What happened to that? Now it’s all iron, steel, and leather. So where do the Shield Spiders go?”
“Well, the Adventurer’s Guild sell to the [Merchants]. At a very reasonable price at our end.”
Ulseil replied carefully. Lism turned to frown at him.
“But how much of a markup do [Merchants] and [Traders] make when they take the cargo to, say, Invrisil? Even if you paid a gold coin per Shield Spider body, how much would that much chitin and armor be worth if you bought it in one piece?”
“Er—I don’t have the numbers in front of me.”
The Drake was hedging. Lism shook his head, ignoring Ulseil.
“The money goes straight to the [Merchants]. And the Adventurer’s Guild takes their cut since they ‘allow’ us to have a guild in their city. But where’s Liscor’s cut? We increase the price by one silver coin per Shield Spider body and that’s…how many Shield Spiders are killed in just the annual culling?”
“Oh, come now—”
“On average? About three or four thousand Shield Spiders. Not all adults of course, but I could estimate at least two thousand and a half. This year it was about double that.”
Olesm piped up. Ulseil and the old Councilmembers gave him a glare, but Lism snapped his claws.
“There you have it. Raise the price by one silver coin—and that’s not even asking for a fair margin from either Adventurer’s Guild or [Merchants] and we’re up five thousand gold pieces after the culling alone. There. Five thousand shovels for the walls. How’s that?”
“You can’t just—”
Krshia spoke over the hot voice raised behind her.
“Or five thousand Workers, who can build without needing to hire [Builders].”
She and Lism stared daggers again, but Ulseil was coughing and trying to interrupt as he choked on a nut.
“See here, Councilmember Lism! You can’t just place a tariff on goods like that! It could damage trade! Shield Spider parts are one of the few things that keep a lot of [Merchants] coming this way! If you raise prices—”
“What will they do? Go elsewhere for their Shield Spiders? The last I heard, we were the only city with an enduring plague of the things.”
Lism folded his arms. Ulseil hesitated. He raised a single claw.
“As head of the Merchant’s Guild, I must warn you of the consequences. You may trigger a boycott of Liscor’s goods.”
“By whom? Wouldn’t they have to get the Guildmaster to agree to that?”
Jeiss leaned over the table. The room went silent as every eye fell on Ulseil. He wavered.
“Well—I er, the [Merchants] who trade with Liscor are exceptionally powerful. Some of them. I’d try to talk them out of it, but I can only do so much—”
He caught part of Lism’s stare and broke off. Ulseil had been a decently successful [Merchant] before he’d become a Guildmaster and employed people to do his job, and he remembered negotiating with lower-level [Traders], [Shopkeepers] and so on. Some of them were easy to bowl over, but sometimes you ran into one that had Lism’s look. You learned to avoid them or you had to fight like one of Rhir’s Demons to get anything like a good deal. He tried to lean out of the way of the stare.
Krshia broke into the silence with a thoughtful ‘hrm’. She looked around and nodded.
“As I have been saying from the beginning, the issue is one of space, yes? Tariffs are all very well, but Liscor needs more space. A city with walls is always held by the walls. More space will allow more business to flourish. And it will cut down on the rent that makes poorer families suffer.”
“Well, hold on now. That’s a bold claim to make.”
Yalla protested hotly, but Lism, Jeiss, Elirr, Raekea, and Alonna were all nodding. The old Council was frowning, but Lism tapped the table with one claw.
“That was second on my list, Silverfang. But if you want to jump from topic to topic, fine. Let’s talk about reducing the rent.”
“Another issue which I’m afraid we wanted to talk to you about.”
One of the old Councilmembers cut in. This time he received a glare from the new Council, Gnolls and the two Drakes sitting next to Lism. Tismel and Zalaiss were very quiet, glancing from old to new as if trying to figure out where the wind was blowing. Lism folded his arms.
“I don’t see what the issue is. Rent is too high. I can’t count how many families have been evicted or run out of their homes because they can’t pay to stay in the same homes they used to. All these new Humans and adventurers are crowding honest Drakes—and Gnolls—out of their homes! We lower the rent.”
“On that, we can agree, Lism. But it’s Drakes who own the land and apartments.”
Krshia growled at him. Yalla banged her bowl of candied nuts for attention. Her face was crimson with fury.
“Excuse me! You cannot force our landowners to adjust their prices! That is interference in business, which goes against the very heart of Drake traditions! We have a very amiable arrangement with the [Landowners] and guilds managing rent in the city.”
“Which is?”
Lism stared at her. Yalla hesitated.
“The [Landowners] contribute an annual fund to Liscor’s funds, above what we owe in taxes.”
“How much?”
“What do you mean, how m—”
“Nine thousand, six hundred, and twelve gold pieces last year. Rounded up.”
The Drake turned with fury to look at Olesm. He smiled politely back at Yalla. He saw Lism look at him and went on.
“Yalla Aldrake, [Landlady]. You paid four hundred and eight gold pieces to the, ah, Land-Fund, which is an agreed-upon tax on the owners of real estate.”
“Interesting. But I happen to know you own at least four streets. And the prices on one of those streets was six silver coins and five copper per month.”
Lism stared at Yalla. She opened her mouth.
“That was due to—”
“Six silver and five copper per month is a hundred and four silver pieces per year. If you multiply that by the number of people per apartment, that’s eight times that. At least. Which is…nephew?”
Olesm’s lips moved as he did a quick summation on his parchment.
“Eight hundred and thirty two silver, Un—Councilmember. And converted to gold, that’s forty one gold and twelve silver. If my math holds.”
Lism nodded.
“And that’s per house. In the poorest district of the city. Multiply that by what, eight houses on one street? Twenty? Thirty? And multiply that again because streets have two sides?”
Silence. Yalla’s face was pale. Jeiss was doing the math, a deep frown on his face. Olesm came up with the answer at last.
“If you assume sixteen houses per street—and it’s actually closer to twenty six—one street would earn around six hundred gold pieces per year. And uh, not all apartments have only eight rooms.”
“And that’s the poorest district! With widowers, old Drakes who can’t tie down a full job anymore and people who need a home! Where do they go if they can’t afford the rent?”
The [Shopkeeper]’s voice was too loud. Yalla winced.
“How should I know?”
It was the wrong answer, and the wrong indignant tone to take. Lism exploded as his fist came down and sent the bowl of nuts flying.
“They go to live with their families or friends or they sleep on the street! Six silver coins and five copper for a room on Welcaissel Street!? I’d be ashamed to rent that room to Humans!”
“How dare you! What I do with my apartments is my business!”
Yalla shouted back at Lism. He was not to be outdone, and she had made a mistake shouting at someone whose entire job was shouting.
“Really? In that case, you can explain to me what an old lady is supposed to do when she’s turned out onto the streets without two coppers to rub together and nowhere to go!”
“Councilmember Lism! Please stop shouting!”
One of the Drakes begged. Lism’s voice was echoing in the meeting room. All three Gnolls had covered their ears, but Elirr looked approving. So did Jeiss. Ulseil, shaken, looked around. The Drake, older, one of the old Council, pointed shakily at Lism.
“This is not the place for shouting. We have measured debates, not these—attacks on Councilmembers!”
