It was a bright, warm day, the first of July 1419. The warmer temperature reflected the mood of the palace, as rumors were swirling. News of the recent miracles in Madgeburg was abundant, and the absence of Heidi couldn’t be ignored. Baron Von Friesack couldn’t help but gloat a little, but he had more important matters to tend to. With the return to health of the Elector, Von Friesack was no longer all-powerful in policy making. It was an added twist that his plan had worked to absolute perfection, thus leaving Friedrich incredibly indebted to him, for he had resurrected what could have been an absolute disaster.
The New Year’s debacle had faded from memory, as the church bells announced the declaration of war against Madgeburg. It was a mere formality, since what remained of the Madgeburg Army had wandered into Saxony after their great victories at home. The Saxons, though still reeling from there sampling of “Wlak Stew”, had managed to collect themselves enough to annihilate the Madgeburg forces, but it was too late. The Brandenburg Army, under the control of Baron Von Liebenwalde, was well on its way to the province, and in a matter of months the first step in the Lieberwalde Plan would be completed. With foreign affairs set, Von Friesack shifted his focus to the infrastructure of Brandenburg. His plan called for the implementation of tax collectors in all provinces, but he needed Friedrich to sign off on the plan.
As he entered the hall that lead to the chambers, Von Friesack began to reflect on sad appearance of the palace. Von Friesack had grown used to this dreary atmosphere, and a serious upgrade in interior decoration was needed, but Von Friesack would never suggest that public funds be allocated for such a purpose. The personal chambers of the Elector should be something majestic, but at this, they failed miserably. The exception was those beautiful drapes. Perhaps one day Von Friesack would give in and purchase some of these for himself, but that day would come immediately after he found a wife or a social life.
“Milord, it is a great day for our nation. Our armies are marching towards Madgeburg, and we have acquired the ability to place tax collectors in our provinces. You will no doubt remember that part of my play was to improve the infrastructure of our nation, so as to be able to support our territorial expansions.”
“Ah, and a brilliant plan that was my friend. You want tax collectors, you shall have them, where do I sign?”
“Here milord.”
“So when will these tax collectors be in place my faithful advisor?”
Milord, the cost 50 ducats a piece, so it will be at least three full years before all are implemented, and four years before we see the full fruits of our labor.”
“This is foolishness, we will just borrow against the bank of Berlin, let’s see. Three times 50 ducats a piece… carry the one… 200 ducats would do as a sufficient loan, wouldn’t it?”
“Milord, with respect I must insist that we not take out a loan. Its long-term effects could cripple our economy, with no significant possible gain as a justification for such a risk.”
“I respect your opinion, but you are not the Elector, that is my job. I demand that tax collectors be placed immediately.”
“Milord, it would be most unwise to upset the positive vibe that our working relationship has. Rumors have begun to surface about your whereabouts on Easter, and it would be most devastating to a god-fearing populous if they found out their leader cannot stir before dinnertime because of his tendency for drinks late at night.”
Acquiescing, the humbled leader sank back into his chair. He nodded to Dimitri, who quickly brought the royal seal. Von Friesack’s plan was signed, and he happily retreated to his den on the first floor of the palace.
“Poor Dimitri, he has to serve a master he knows to be less than competent. I suppose he is the only other in the land to know of who is really in charge. I shall have to be very careful of him, for he may know too much. Now, the next question is, where can I get those lovely drapes.”