Family Business 31 (Patreon)

Family Business
Chapter 31

-VB-

The Freljordians that followed me were, one and all, magicians, shamans, or those who supported their family members who were magical in a land filled with magic haters.

Because while I did manage to make allies with the rich, powerful, and noble (the trifecta of financial, social, and politicial power), the people could not be convinced when they didn’t want to be. Outside of Jorasmang, the Great City of Demacia, and High Silvermere, the commoners of Demacia, steeped in the anti-magic conservative traditions, avoided me, my entourage, retinue, and followers like a plague.

If I was a mere baron, then there was a good chance I might have been killed in my sleep or mobbed by a lynch mob and hung from the nearest tree (if they could overpower my spells and semi-autonomous quicksilver summon).

However, I was a duke, and those responsible for the death of a duke suffered. A duke was, by the official class system, a rank just below the royalty and the Crown. Dukes were traditionally offshoot branches of the royalty and always carried with them a power of their own beyond that of the royalty. Dukes, being children or relatives of royalty, were given land for them to raise their own little armies. The vassalization - sorry, alliances - of surrounding kingdoms with full cooperation - sorry, with swords pointed at their throat with the clear threat that it was either them or Noxus - added to this power, because new dukes over the last one hundred years were given these vassal kingdom to rule over as their own subjects.

Despite the fact that I nominally controlled only a small portion of Demacia, I was still a duke, and the average duke of Demacia was a man in charge of an army with five to ten thousand soldiers.

Now, how many soldiers could I field?

It’s irrelevent, because thought I might not have a standing army of soldiers, those common soldiers fighting for the duke were generally not like the Demacian Royal Army. They were poorly armed and amored soldiers drawn from as feudal levies. There were also no knights in Demacia.

I didn’t have an army of the average duke’s size, but I had a cadre of magicians loyal to me who depended on my protection and generosity to educate and protect their families.

I actually wanted to see how regular levies did against an explosive fireball.

No, bad thoughts, Marris! That’s how you get people afraid and fearful of magicians. Fear lead to anger. Anger lead to violence.

No violently explosive experiment using peasants, no matter how much they piss you off with their unwillingness to even consider change!

I looked out of the carriage and saw my city looming over the horizon, and smiled in relief.

I was home.

The carriage continued to drive slowly, and the huge caravan behind me followed at an equally sedate pace, filled to the brim with the Freljordian refugees.

I would need to handle them just as I did with the Vastayans, though I wasn’t sure. The Vastayans were, at the very least, familiar with Demacian system due to how human Ionian political system was similar to Demacia; there was a lord, everyone else served him, and lords fought each other.

Freljord did not have that kind of feudal structure that Demacia, Noxus, Ionia, and even Shurima shared. At the same time, they were also different from Piltover and Zaun, which are aristocratic and industrial oligarchies.

All Freljordian tribes lived in tribal societies, which had the distinction of being paradoxically the most egalitarian and authoritative society. It was egalitarian in that all members of the tribe were respected and valued similarly, but once a decision was made either by the tribal council or the chieftain, the decision was absolute and stepping out of the line was not tolerated.

Most of this had to do with the nature the tribes survived off on: Freljord. It was a frigid landscape that would have industrial civilizations a challenge to survive. Freljordian tribes lived nomadic lives, moving from place to place unless they found a fjord or flatland where agriculture or fishing was possible for … a quarter of the year.

Or so I have been hearing from my current carriage companion.

“I see,” I hummed as Marjatta finished recounting everything she knew about Freljord.

Her tribe, a small thing that had no chance of survival when pitted against the larger ones, had fled, but had lost two-thirds of their members to raids, the environment, and starvation before reaching Demacian border. If the marquis had been anti-immigrant, then she would not be here, either cut down as they tried to force their way in but turned back to die in Freljordian winter, which sounded more and more like Russian winter in my head.

‘Note to self: do not invade Freljord during winter.’

Marjatta fidgetted in her seat, looking down at her lap before looking back up. “W-What will we do for you, c-chief?”

“... Well, most of you learned about how Demacia works, according to the marquis.”

“We have.”

“Then I’ll be assigning you works and places to live.”

“... And what kind of work will we do?”

“Those capable of standard magic will work as alchemists or enchanters. Shamans will survey the land for troubles and abnormalities. Families of the either will work regular jobs.”

She nodded, obviously satisfied that I wasn’t trying to exploit them.