The bustle of the city was not something she had found adequately captured in words. While the nature of a farm could be spelled out—every task detailed, then sewn together with a narrative—a city needed a kind of story yet to be invented. It was as if trying to put to words how a clock worked, where every chapter would begin with a single tick and then spend several pages describing how every other piece moved because of that single tick.
Not only that, but a city defied every sensibility a person ought to have about economies.
It was understood that money flowed down, beginning with the peers of the realm who then purchased extravagances and paid such a wage to their vast staff; those producers of artisan goods and the staff then purchased such necessities, including for those dependent on them—that is, their family—and, if there was any money left, perhaps indulged; finally, the producers of necessities purchased what they did not themselves produce, and again indulged with what remained. To bring the cycle around once more, the peers collected taxes.
A profitable economy, then, was one where the peers had much at their disposal, that they could hand down much, and then collect much at the end. So the astute, in recognising this, would bring in merchants to purchase local goods with coin from afar, or send out merchants with local goods to bring back coin. The broader the flow of money, the more luxurious a life for all, and content peasants made for peaceful, productive workers.
What of a city? In her estimation, rather than a stream, such large communities became instead like water swirling in a sink.
If one followed a single coin, it would be unlikely to end up in a taxman’s hand. Rather, it drifted from one store to another, carried by the staff either as personal pay or as payment between companies. In a manner, it was like the blood coursing through the city’s veins, of little value on its own, yet bringing together services which could not exist in isolation. What good a muscle did without bone to pull, so too did the tailor without the weaver without the spinner. Such services that, outside the city, would all be done together, here could be done separately with coin as the guarantee.
Rather than broadly, what mattered more, she thought, was the weight with which the water swirled. The weight of something in motion increased with the speed; however, what did the speed of money mean? At the simplest, she reasoned, the speed at which transactions may be done, that money handed over may then be handed over again.
This matter came in two parts: how often the staff were paid, and how quickly a business could handle a payment. To increase the speed by mandating staff were paid by the second was not exactly a reasonable law to enact. As for the other part, businesses already had begun to experiment with such things as lines of credit, albeit such things requiring trust that cash did not. Could a ruler mandate such trust between businesses?
The least a ruler could do, she thought, was to not oppose the flow of money, which was not the same thing as alleviating each and every tax. Some revenue was necessary for coving the city’s expenses, but those expenses were what fed back into the sink.
If one removed less weight than was added, the city would grow. If one removed more than was added, the city would shrink. The ideal, then, was to only tax sufficient amounts as to cover the expenses, that the city should continue to swell, until such time that the ruler needed funds.
What also mattered was to find such taxation that least disturbed the flow of money. That was, removing the money which moved slowest. An irony of this view, it was a well known saying that a pauper given a gold spent it in the hour, while a lord given a copper passed it on to his son. It followed that taxation was best enacted upon the rich; conversely, that money added to the city was best given to the poor.
It was perhaps that simple, yet counter-intuitive, truth that had resulted in cities growing to such a size.
These matters, she could have thought endlessly on. However, the result was that, if competent, a ruler could extract from a city greater value without hurting the people the same way a lord-of-the-manor would by imposing harsher taxes on his people.
What was more was that such a thing took no more food, nor required merchants to bring back more coin. The people themselves had no need to work any harder either. What person, educated or otherwise, would believe such nonsense? Indeed, even she found it hard to accept when first faced with such ideas.
Another precious gift passed down from her parents.
She softly smiled, in her mind seeing flickers of pages, written by her mother, annotated by her father. The door opening, such images faded and, in their place, were the city’s various accounts, kept in a thick ledger.
“My Lady.”
Looking up, she saw a man of middle-age, on the thinner side, with hair like a black sheep’s wool and a short nose with a sizeable bump, as if hunchbacked. “Mayor Hase, please, take a seat.”
If one looked on, they would not have known it was his office, her sat behind the desk with such a book open, him sat opposite, not quite fidgeting, but unwilling to meet her gaze with how his eyes wandered.
Until she cleared her throat, at which point he dared not look away.
“Mayor Hase, do you recall how you came to be elected?” she asked.
Although a simple question, he had no easy answer. “That is, my predecessor resigned and I took over until the next election, at which point I was duly elected,” he said.
She nodded. “And your predecessor—how was he chosen?”
Any relief he felt turned to ice. “That is, his predecessor was removed from office and your father appointed him the mayor until such a time as an election could be fairly held, which took some years, but eventually was and he was duly elected to carry on.”
“Why did it take such a long time for the election to be carried out?” she asked, no trace of interest in her voice, more like a teacher addressing a student.
Hase didn’t fidget, though. “His predecessor was immensely corrupt, even using the underhanded support of a foreign government to maintain his power, that every office was purged out of necessity, every institution rebuilt, including those which handled elections.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Silence followed, a long moment where he dared not so much as breathe, until finally she nodded once more. “My father understood the nature of cities very well. After all, a city is but a collection of people, and he understood people like no other. His insights have fascinated me since a young age, continuing to do so each day I comprehend more of his wisdom.”
Hase nodded along as he listened, taking her pause to add his concurrences. “Oh yes, a brilliant man, that I cannot remember a visit where he did not reveal to me some fantastic truth, nor did I find any of his policies ineffective,” he said.
Her gaze that had grown absent when praising her father now focused on him once more, holding him in place, until a soft smile gently showed. “My father had to burn down this city to ensure its loyalty. On the surface, it appeared that nothing changed; however, once all was said and done, it belonged to him as surely as any fief. Your predecessor was chosen by him and you were groomed to replace him, maintaining such loyalty to my father as a peasant to his lord. Now that I have inherited his title, it is my right to this city. Do you understand what this means?”
He bowed his head, putting a hand on his heart. “Of course! I see your father’s wisdom in My Lady, and I am willing to swear such loyalty,” he said, speaking fast, but evenly.
“Fealty,” she said.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, but, before he could correct himself, she laughed. A gentle tittering that ended in a sigh.
“That is, I understand Mayor Hase’s loyalty. However, on this matter, there is only one result which may come of our discussion.”
“Which is?” he whispered.
She brought together her fingertips. “Your resignation, with recommendation of my chosen successor.”
He sat so still that she worried for a moment he may have died from shock. If he had, well, once was a coincidence, but she did not wish for it to become a pattern. Fortunately for her, he soon blinked.
“Am I in some way lacking, My Lady?” he asked, a genuine pain to his voice.
Her expression softened. “Far from it, sir. I can find no fault in your service.”
“Then why?” he asked, almost childish in tone.
“This is a matter of politics. I am not my father. I am seen as weak, so I must show strength that, once I have need of this city’s power, that the people trust my judgement in using it. Sir has done a commendable job as mayor, which spoke to my father’s talent. Now, though, I must show my own talent.”
It was not that matters of politics were new to Hase, nor that he did not understand what she meant. A city could not be run on apologetic smiles and cowardice. However, he understood the natural order of the world, for that reason servile towards those with power over him. That his own power was now to be taken, he could only grovel.
Of course, she knew such things and they both knew that the other knew. A play of two roles with only themselves for an audience. However, some matters had to be done with such theatre, if only to sell the lie to oneself. Not to mention, she enjoyed the practice.
“My father had simple ambitions in the end. If you knew half the things he had considered, I dare say you would look a decade older,” she said lightly, ending in a smile. “My ambitions are much tamer than my father’s, such that I need a more ambitious mayor. In times of peace, prepare for war, and in times of war, prepare for peace. Mayor Hase has built upon this city’s foundations to make an economy greater than perhaps even the capital. What it lacks, though, is the kind of deterrence necessary to keep our greedy neighbours at bay.”
He bowed his head, as if shamed by such a remark. “I have kept the militia to your father’s specifications all these years.”
“Indeed, and I am most grateful, the… military exercise meeting my expectations,” she said, her hands coming together, fingers interlocked. “It is a militia more than suitable for defending a city until such a time that an ally comes to relieve us. However, I ask, what if no such ally comes? How long can this city hold? What kind of order can it maintain? Where will the attacks come and how are they best repelled?”
She listed those off the top of her head, then sought out his gaze.
“I have the utmost respect for those my father deems suitable. While I would replace you out of necessity for my position, I will take the opportunity to reinforce those areas where you were weak, and I should have you as my accomplice if you are willing.”
“And if I am not willing?” he asked.
She gave him a soft smile, like she had before, the sort of expression a teacher gave to a student who had asked a ridiculous question. “Then you already know too much,” she whispered.
He smiled, a nervous laugh slipping out, yet he did not fidget. “My Lady jokes. Besides, what is this talk of accomplice? What crime could My Lady be planning to commit?”
“The better question is what crime am I unwilling to commit in the pursuit of my goals,” she said, pausing a moment before answering it herself. “Well, I suppose I would be quite beyond myself to desecrate a grave. For whatever else I may have to answer to God, at least I would have Him know that I leave the dead to His mercy.”
“That is… certainly a good line not to cross?” Hase said.
Her smile this time had none of the warmth of those she shared earlier. “What of the good mayor’s answer?” she said, leaning back in her seat. “Is he truly ready to retire without greater ambition? I do not think so, my father not one to elevate such simple people.”
“Can it not be the case that people may change?” he asked.
She did not hesitate before shaking her head. “Change is inevitable, which is why they always pursue their ideal past,” she said.
He chuckled, a look of bemusement on his face. “Can such a thing be true?”
“If philosophy had need to be true, there would be very little of it,” she replied, no humour in her voice.
His smile faded. “My Lady, all I know is being a mayor. As you rightly said, I was groomed for this role, before then a simple boy of some learning. What place could I possibly have outside of the city?”
“It is precisely because you are so entwined with this city that you are of use to me,” she said.
He reached up, adjusting his hat, then brought his hand back down to where it had been before. “My Lady thinks too highly of me.”
“I am not in the habit of incorrectly estimating people, either under or over. Rather, I know that sir is aware of those smiths capable of forging bombard and shot to my father’s specifications, as well as the more… selective goods that the bombardiers require,” she said.
A moment of silence passed between them.
“Your daughter—she is married to the captain of the bombardiers, is she not?”
His breath stilled in his throat, yet he forced it out. “That she is.”
She tapped a finger on the thick ledger, the steady beat like that of a calm heart. “It would be a good time for him to retire from the position and take up training. The first and second crews performed well, that I would double the militia’s total number to a dozen such crews, yet do not wish to dilute their talent. To be the son-in-law of such a beloved mayor, he must be capable.”
“I assure My Lady, I let my daughter marry for love,” he said, his voice quieter than before.
“What a failure of a father one would be for their daughter to love an imbecile, and what a failure of a mayor one would be to make such an imbecile captain of the most important part of the militia,” she said, no malice in her tone, but her gaze pinned him to the chair.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, offering an apologetic smile.
Her tapping finger stopped. “Sir does recognise my plans, does he not? It is a rather simple case of consolidating secrets. I cannot allow sir to go quietly into the crowd knowing what he does, so I put you close to the secrets you hold and make what use of you I can. As thanks for good work thus far, I offer sir advice for his son-in-law, knowing that no man wishes for his beloved daughter to be widowed. Of course, the advice I offer is something sir could easily reason on his own, thus it is not as if I am divulging more secrets; however, by giving it early, I earn a measure of good-will in sir’s heart.”
A crooked smile lingered on her lips, amusement in her eyes.
“These are such lessons imparted upon you many years ago by his predecessor, and who advised your predecessor?” she asked.
“Your father,” he whispered.
“You are not the only one groomed for their position. However, what position I hold, only time will tell. So please, Mr Hase, let us end this little charade and move on to the matter of your successor.”
He let out a single laugh, then settled into a smirk of his own. “Very well.”