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28 - Trouble at the Borderlands

  Tirsday, 11th of Aprillia, 470th Year of the Fifth Era

  The Skies had greyed and darkened over the Port City of Solagratia at the Northeastern tip of the Neacordian continent. The city was of a very modest size when compared to the metropolises of Mainland Terradome, but compared to the more rural settlements of much of the new continent, it was an imposing bastion of western civilization indeed. Many of the buildings in the city were made of stone and were built following the style of architecture that was prevalent in the Kingdom of Feldonia of the West but a good majority of the city still looked rather new with many wooden manors and what not still filling many spaces within the city.

  At the center of the town was the former Viceroyal Palace which now acted as the main office and residence building to the President-Minister of the Council of the Newlander Republic. Inside the cabinet office, a middle-aged man with curly and graying dark brown hair could be seen hunching over his desk writing onto a parchment with a pen with stacks upon stacks of parchment, paper, and other such documents that were all piled upon one another. After he seemed finished with his writing, he stamped upon the bottom of the parchment with a seal before setting it aside atop the mountain of paperwork, though in doing so, he only revealed yet another parchment underneath for him to look over and approve.

  The man could only breathe out a sigh in despair as he decided to put down his pen and lay back on his chair for a bit as he stretched out his arms and cracked his knuckles and neck joints. It was tiring work even though technically there was little physical activity involved besides the movement of the wrists. But when the man thought about it, he would much rather be out on the field training and fighting rather than being holed up in a dark office room doing nothing but paperwork. God bloody paperwork. It would seem to the man that doing paperwork until the middle of the night had become a daily routine for him ever since he took up the office of President-Minister after he was voted in by the council.

  John Alexander Halton has served in his position as the highest authority over the republic for over a decade now, having been sworn in to his office in 5E459. Serving as the President-Minister was an insurmountably difficult job, especially because it meant leading a fledgling Republic that has only been ‘independent’ for less than three decades at that point. In fact, the city where he was governing from itself was only founded in 5E410 by disgruntled protestants who were encouraged by the nominally catholic Archioric Empire to emigrate out of its territories in Terradome.

  But now that Empire is gone and thanks to that accursed treaty accompanying its dissolution, the Fledgling ‘Crown Colonies of Newlandia’ were forced into independence. An independence it was most definitely not prepared for at all. Lack of manpower, lack of resources, lack of weaponry, and lack of industry had effectively forced the colonists to fend for themselves in an alien land full of hostile states that would want nothing more than to see foreigners like them either expelled back to the sea or exterminated, whichever came first. The Viceroy of Newlandia at the time - who assumed the office of the first President-Minister - had his work cut out for him. It had seemed almost certain that the fledgling republic would be dissolved in less than a decade after being effectively abandoned by the motherland.

  But the First President-Minister was a true genius of a statesman, and had the grit and willpower to back up that genius. John Ferdinand Halton - the current President-Minister’s late grandfather - was a true beast when it came to Realpolitik and add to that a talent for military strategy and battlefield tactics, and you had yourself the sole reason why the Republic not only survived until the current day, but in some aspects also thriving like it never had before. John Ferdinand had skillfully fended off an attack from the Heathen Kingdom of Wisnajaya and from there, gained the momentum to even grow the republic’s territory almost triple its original size, both through conquest of many native towns and cities as well as through diplomacy with other colonies formed by immigrants from other western countries escaping their own forms of persecution in their native countries.

  However, as it has always been said in the past, to conquer an empire on horseback is one thing but to then dismount and rule such an empire is another matter entirely. The rapid three-decade expansion was also the reason that John Alexander might have to shave off three decades from his own lifespan. Dealing with the governance of any country or state was a demon in and of itself, but to govern a state like the republic and to fill in the shoes of such a hero like his grandfather who had governed the country both with wit and no discernable end of luck was a fate he would not wish upon even his worst enemies.

  There seemed to be no end to the issues he had to deal with as President-Minister. Dealing with native populations who were unwilling to integrate into the Republic, corrupt government officials embezzling the tax money levied from the citizenry to fund numerous programs of war and administration, constant threat of attacks from the indigenous Kingdoms of the Land, Pirates and Bandits making life more difficult for the common citizenry not to mention the massive damage such criminals do towards the trade that is barely keeping Newlandia afloat. All of that without even mentioning the most pressing concern of all to the President-Minister, and that was the letter he had received from the Kingdom of Feldonia.

  He didn’t know what sort of miracle was taking place within the rump-state of his former overlord’s Empire, but the President-Minister was shocked when he heard the news that after three decades of dissolution, the Archioric Empire is on its way back to re-establish itself. The letter he had received was an offer for the Republic to return to Feldonia and acknowledge King Albert V as the rightful sovereign of Newlandia. In return for such an offer, Newlandia would be granted a great amount of autonomy as well as the possibility of being raised into the status of a Grand Duchy or even a Kingdom should the re-establishment of Archior as an Empire.

  John Alexander could only shake his head and scoff at the sheer audacity of such an offer. The Feldonians were basically asking for a share of Newlandia’s treasury for basically nothing in return. Empty titles and empty promises. Perhaps if this offer had been made three decades ago, there would still be plenty of sentiment left between the two countries, especially as Feldonia had chosen to embrace the true uncorrupted Christian Faith. But now, times were different and the Feldonians had yet to prove their worth in anything. Where was Feldonia when the might of twenty thousand Wisnajayans and Snake-men came bearing down upon the colonies? Where was Feldonia when the great famine of 5E445 hit? That was a stupid question. It was the exorbitant taxes that the Skyward Throne levied upon the colonies to fund its war against the Germans along with all the resources it extracted from Newlandia to feed its armies that caused the famine to begin with. No. So long as he was still alive and breathing, Newlandia would not willingly put itself under Feldonia’s yoke again. Not especially until it can actually prove that the return of the empire isn’t just grand words.

  As he kept on fiddling with the letter, stamped by the seal of the Feldonian king himself, John Alexander couldn’t help but frown. He was half a mind to just throw the letter into the ocean for it to never see the light of day again, but at the same time, he couldn’t be reckless. Though being subservient to Feldonia had no inherent benefits for the republic, outwardly and openly showing hostility towards the Feldonians would be an even stupider action. The republic's resources were stretched thin already as they are and there was no need to provoke the Feldonians into actually doing anything rash.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  After thinking all that, John Alexander couldn’t help but breathe out an exasperated sigh before pulling up an empty parchment from his desk on which he would compose a response letter to the Feldonians. He’d make sure to fill the letter with all the niceties and pleasantries known to man but yet make no clear nor decisive answer for them. One of the many arts of a true diplomat which was the art to say many things that mean virtually nothing.

  Just as he had picked up his pen once more and was beginning to write the preamble to his letter, a knock could be heard coming from outside the office doors. When he looked towards the six hourglasses that were on his table, John Alexander could see that the fourth hourglass had almost run empty. He clicked his tongue as he realised it was already two hours until midnight and he still had so many things to do. Regardless of that, the president-minister could only sigh before he said, “Come in!”

  When the doors to his office were opened, he could see a younger man, about half his age who looked similar to him with brown hair and a strong physique, enter his office. Following the young man were a few other people dressed in fine noble-attire. Their clothes were at least neat and properly maintained, if rather simple.

  “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this fine visit at this hour, gentlemen? Has a cabinet meeting been summoned without the knowledge of the President-minister?” John Alexander asked with a joking tone yet his eyes remained serious as they scanned over the people who had just entered his office. It wouldn’t be hyperbole to say that half his ministers and department secretaries had barged into his office in the middle of the night and John Alexander couldn’t help but sigh internally as this could only mean something rather troublesome had occurred.

  “Unfortunately, Your Excellency, we bring to you unsettling news from Saint-Jean…” The younger man said as he approached the President-Minister with a letter while giving a summary of its contents “The Garrisson commander there, Captain Louis Pelletier, has reported that there have been movements on the border from the Vishnajayans. Raids on the settlements at the frontier have increased but what troubles me most is the fact that movements of a larger force have also been noticed.”

  “Our traders within the Banuan lands have also provided us with information that King Jayadharma is starting to levy the young men of his realm to start weekly training and the taxes and tariffs on our merchants have also been unilaterally increased.” Another minister added.

  “Tch, those damned pagan heathens!” John Alexander cursed no longer caring to keep up his carefree attitude “Does Jayadharma feel so secure on his border with the Aryawiran Empire that he feels he could afford to spend troops to divert towards our borders?”

  “Our ears within the Aryawiran realm have reported that Jayadharma had reached a favourable treaty of non-aggression with the Samrat of Aryawira.” Another official answered.

  “Another bloody ‘treaty’! Yet I know the Wisnajayans won’t honor it. Not the least if they intend to honor their new treaty the way they ‘honor’ ours. My grandfather - God rest his soul - had signed a peace treaty of a ‘hundred years’ with those pagans. But it appears to heathen ears, a hundred years only roughly equals twenty.”

  “It is a shame indeed, Your Excellency, but regardless of that, how should we best respond to this current situation?” The younger official asked once more towards John Alexander “Though the current situation has yet to escalate into a full-blown reignition of conflict, we’d be fools to leave ourselves open to a surprise attack, especially if we have already caught wind of their movements.”

  John Alexander had clasped his hands as he brought his thumbs to message his forehead as he began to think. Though his mind was strategizing, his eyes were still pacing about, still scanning everyone in the room before his eyes stopped at an older man wearing an eyepatch covering a scarred eye. “General Morrison, what is the situation of our forces? Do we have any spare forces we can muster to reinforce our borders with the Wisnajayans?”

  “At best, Your Excellency, we have only two regiments fully available to be redirected to the Saint-Jean area. It would take about a week for them to be posted there.” General Morrison answered.

  “What was the estimate of the Wisnajayan troops?”

  “Right now it’s nothing concrete, your Excellency, but we can assume it would number above ten thousand men, though mostly conscripts.” The younger official had answered.

  “...Send in the regiments to Saint-Jean post haste and redirect some of the nearby garrisons to erect fortifications along our borders.” John Alexander finally said before finally looking at the younger official “I will put the command of our forces in the East into the hands of Secretary John William Halton. You shall make a full assessment of the situation at the border as I give you full authority to act as you deem fit in the defense of the Republic, but only in defense. I will not have you conduct any offensive action towards the Wisnajayans, not especially until we have a firmer grasp on the situation. The moment you see anything of import, be it clearer troop movements or anything of the sort, you are to report directly to the capital and await orders. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Understood, Your Excellency.” John William saluted his father after receiving his orders “I will do my best to assess the situation, sir.”

  John Alexander nodded before he went silent and thought for a while. After thinking, he looked up once more to General Morrison, “I would think it best to redirect the regiment we had promised to send to the borders with the Hallack to Saint-Jean as well.”

  Hearing this, John William couldn’t help but furrow his brow at John Alexander’s decision and so he asked, “If I may, Your Excellency, it is to my understanding that you had sent a letter earlier to the Halak King of Hutangali that you’d be sending the regiment to help deal with Daniel Larouge’s bandit gang?”

  “It is unfortunate, but the safety and security of our Republic comes first and foremost to the needs of any native kingdom.” John Alexander said as he picked out another empty parchment from his desk to write another letter “I’ll just have to quickly draft another letter explaining to the king of how it greatly saddens us that due to new developments within our own circumstances, we would not be able to lend the aid we had promised. Though, of course, we’ll make it very clear to the Halak of Hutangali that our thoughts and prayers are always with our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.”

  “Forgive me if this sounds daft, excellency, but it seems dishonourable. I think we can afford to spare at least a company of our troops to-...” John William was still speaking when John Alexander raised his hand to cut him off.

  “I have made an executive decision and that is final, Mister Secretary. I will write a letter of apology to the Bishop and King of Hutangali. Speaking of which, I had heard the Archbishop of Goria is personally there in Hutangali. I don’t think we have any obligation to help the Halak when a representative of the Great Commander of all the Halak is there. Have the Swordsaint of Goria deal with his vassals' problems. Now, unless you have any more complaints, we must return our attention to matters of greater import.”

  As John Alexander had effectively ended the discussion regarding aid to the Halak, John William couldn’t do anything but nod and accept his father’s ruling. Regardless, the night was still long as the President-Minister eventually decided an emergency cabinet meeting would be summoned to further discuss the ongoing situation.

  The job of the President-Minister was never easy. And it looked clear to John Alexander that once more, he’ll be facing a sleepless night.

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