Warsinger by James Baldwin (most inspirational books TXT) 📗

Yanik, Castellan. Your leaders are chosen by vote, and according to their merit!”

“I am not Yanik. I am Vlachian, with a Yanik father,” Istvan replied coldly. “And if you don't carry yourself out of here back to the slophouse, I'll-”

“Hold up.” I held an arm out over his chest and looked down at Alan from the dais. “And listen, both of you. I'm open to reform on how mayors are appointed, but I have some questions that you'd better answer if you don't want a one-way trip from here to the dungeon. First off: why were you elected? Who elected you? How did the voting process operate?”

Alan drew himself up, looking to me instead of Istvan. “There are some seven thousand citizens of Karhad who sheltered underground in the catacombs, and another five thousand who fled the city but hid in the surrounds. I was in the former group. I am a merchant; my company processes, ships and distributes meat and grain for animal fodder. We supplied the Myszno Defense Force-”

“Don’t try and suck up to me. Get to the point,” I said, glancing at the noble vassals who were crowding behind. Several of them looked like they were about to explode. “I don't have much time.”

“Ah yes, of course.” He cleared his throat. “The short version of events is that I took refugees into my warehouse, and from there into the catacombs. I fed them from my own supplies. When the dust cleared, we emerged to find our city in ruins. Bolza had not appointed a new Mayor. He appointed a Sherriff, whom everyone loathed, and he taxed us exorbitant sums of money beyond the King's take to line his own pockets. I said as such, and the good people of the city rallied around me. They voted that I should become Mayor, and we chased the Sheriff out of town.”

“Uh huh.” I sat down and leaned forward, thinking. “Did you charge these people for food? Sell them at markup?”

He bristled. “Absolutely not! Why, the very thought of it!”

“I witness to that,” one of his companions said. His voice was raspy, but strong and confident. “Alan gave what he had for the good of the city, while Bolza closed the castle gates.”

“Right.” Being who and what I was - American - the notion that the citizens of my capital would vote in their own Mayor wasn't threatening. In the real world, it's how shit was supposed to be done. Feudalism was a relic in real life, but here, it was the norm... and I was surprisingly okay with it, for now. “So there was no election? You weren't running against another candidate? The survivors just nominated you, and you took on their mantle?”

Alan's expression fell. The idea seemed to confuse him. “Uhh... yes, Your Grace. Isn’t that how elections work?”

“Okay.” I took a moment to choose my words carefully. “There's a lot of merchants who'd have gouged desperate hungry people during a war like this one, and I’m willing to believe you didn't until I get evidence to the contrary. I’ll acknowledge you as the provisional Mayor of Karhad-”

There were howls of protest from the nobility within earshot.

“-Emphasis on 'provisional',” I continued, raising my voice over them. “If the people of my capital want to have the right to choose their own local representative, there has to be preconditions. First off, the Volod has to sign off on it. Secondly, there has to be a fair election process, in which multiple candidates can compete. Thirdly, there has to be laws drawn up to make sure that process is fair. Alright?”

The proclamation caused a ripple through the hall. Several people audibly gasped. Nobles scowled. Istvan stared at me, stone-faced.

[You have lost 300 Renown with Myszno [Nobility]. Current Renown: 1087]

[You have gained 200 Renown with Myszno [Duchy of Karhad] and Myszno [Commoners]. Current Renown: 1587]

Alan gave me a strange look, like I'd somehow taken the wind out of his sails. He turned to his buddies. They shrugged, and he turned back. Then, he drew a deep breath and bowed until his curls touched the floor. “I accept this honor, Your Grace. It is a more... uhh... just and measured response than I expected.”

“Yeah! We were expecting a fight!” One of his companions shook a fist.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not in the mood. Bubek, you're only mayor until this city gets back on its feet,” I said. “And I warn you now - if you try and buck that rule and try something stupid, like assuming powers you don't have or rigging elections and shit, me and my dragon will pay you a personal house call, okay?”

He swallowed. “I understand, Your Grace.”

“Good. So tell me what you're here for.” I gestured to him and slumped back in my chair.

“Karhad is in dire straits, my lord. Life there is intolerable,” Alan said, clasping his hands. “All our doctors were slaughtered. The university and all its precious relics were destroyed, the priests of Khors and our smiths murdered by the Demon. Bandits have taken over the marketplace. We are running out of food and there is no running water. The wells are bringing up filthy polluted sludge from the sewers, which have some kind of blockage. Children are taking sick from the filth, but we have nowhere else to go. Here, let me issue these quests…”

New Quest: The World Beneath

Karhad, a grand old city renowned as a bastion of learning and civilization in the far southern reaches of Vlachia, is facing the worst challenge of its existence. The Demon’s army flooded Karhad in the early stages of the war, butchering the citizenry and laying waste to much of its infrastructure. The people who managed to survive the onslaught did so by hiding in the network of catacombs below ground.

Those survivors and the refugees starting to trickle back in search of their homes are in dire straits. The city’s water supply and sewerage systems have been severely damaged and are non-operational. The people