Homelands
Chapter Eighteen: Loving Father
Part 1
Prelude:
The death of Gunvald Leofriksun, third King of Prussia, left the nation saddened and in mourning. Sviendorog took little time making his mark on Prussian history; taking the advice of the patriarch he called for an end to wars for a period of time no less than fifteen years. In that time he demanded that Prussia modernize scientifically and culturally with the Roman Empire and eastern Muslim states. Prussians took his words with a grain of salt, but pursued the idea with great gusto. For the first time Prussia was opened to non-nobility fleeing France and Italy on grounds that the person seeking asylum could prove their value to the realm. Artists, scientists, astrologers, alchemists, and mathematicians from around besieged Europe flocked to Sviendorog's court. Many nobles sent their children to the court in Memelgrád. The Prussian language began to flourish as it experienced a huge increase of usage outside of Prussia. In much of Europe it was becoming a language of trade and learning. Its usage throughout the Baltic was almost mandatory for any merchant wishing to make an income. Prussian ships were the life-blood of countries like Sweden and Denmark as well as to Northern Germany and even to a lesser extent pagan Finland. And where once invincible armies now marched teams of workers who laid roads and canals, transforming a poor and desolate country side into a thriving and expansive bread basket.
Major Prussian cities in 1180
February 18th, 1183
It had been only two years since Sviendorog had become King, and so far his promise of no war was so far so true. Roads expanded in all directions from Memelgrád, some as fast as three miles a day. Trade exploded now that it seemed that the Prussian borders where to be permanent and with trade went the Prussian language. Having commanded Prussia's armies for so long, Sviendorog had covered the breadth and length of the realm many times so was surprised to find how big the Kingdom was now that he had to deal with far-off Princes that he had never heard of. Strange how fast things changed. Even now it was hard to believe Gunvald was dead. For much of his life, Gunvald towered over him like some unattainable mountain top. But now, to think of him as a small pile of ash and jewel fragments sealed away in a cellar in a city a day hard-ride away, it was unreal. Eerie, really.
The biggest threat facing Sviendorog was Valikaila. In two years he and Bozislava had not borne a son. The two had not yet even borne a child and the nobles were getting restless. There was little Sviendorog could do, the church's ban and punishment for homosexuality was one of the few enforced (though almost self-inflicted) on the nobility. It was also well known that Meinekinus was unwed but supposedly picking up Valikaila's slack with Bozislava. It was all ready to explode into an unfixable mess. Before him sat a cloudy and darkened future, muddled with possibilities and choices. Each decision he made shed a foot more light into the void, but revealed more of the abyss.
"Sviendorog," the patriarch said, "In all my years I have never seen anyone play a game of chess like you." The old man's hands went about resetting the board. "I mean, I take your queen... and for what? For you to pull that check mate out of the blue?"
The King smiled devilishly, "I have a good mid game, what can I say?"
"My son recently arrived from Krakow on one of your roads. He said the scenery was dull, but that the ride was as smooth as any."
"Well it is good to hear they are getting usage. The scene is rather dull, but what can you do?"
"Maybe build some taverns? That is what the Persian Emperors did in antiquity."
"We could do that. They could double as guard posts and local law enforcement."
"Plus serving up a pint or two never hurt the local morale." The patriarch winked and then chuckled.
Sviendorog chuckled as well, lifting his mead glass in the air, "Cheers to that." He scribbled that idea down on a sheet of parchment, next to many others all ideas for centralizing Prussia and defending her from herself. Sviendorog looked out into the harbor where black, red and white banners filled the sky. As trade expanded so did copycats. The King was very worried about frauds claiming to be Prussian to avoid tariffs and the such as well as hurting the reputation of real Prussian merchants. He had made the merchant banner a necessity on all Prussian merchant ships. Each flag was made by Guard and sewn into each one was a small metal disc with the information about the flag, proving it was official. If need be it could be cut out to check the authenticity of the ship. Each flag was assigned to a ship and a captain, if either changed a new flag was required. The punishment for flying a make-shift Prussian flag was death. Being caught tampering with a Prussian flag was punishable by death. Flying an expired flag was punishable only if you had cargo or if the date of expiration was more than a month previous to being arrested. The price for a merchant flag was 10% of your income, but came with guarantees of protection and a waiving of tariffs as well as lowered costs for port usage.
"A few years ago seeing that many ships in Memelgrád meant there was a storm in the Baltic," the patriarch said. "You've done more in two years to bolster the treasury than any number of generals and their plunder."
"You have to spend money to make it," the King said calmly. He basked in the sunlight from the window. It was a warm, yellow glow that filled the room.
"Or let others spend their money, and make money off of that."
"That works as well, but it is not a way to be loved by the people. Too many Kings are called 'great' for waging war... where are the Kings who are great because they bettered their nations. Leaving them stronger, rather than just larger?"
"So you do pay attention to me."
"I do, I don't know why you would think otherwise."
"Kings and priests do not always get along so well. I hear horror stories out of Constantinople and Rome." The old man smiled. "I must be off." Sviendorog turned and nodded his head, but then returned his gaze out into the harbor. A large ship was casting off. Two sails, streaming a large merchant banner behind it. Everyone on board worked in concert to open the rigging and set sail. He tried to picture himself as the captain and Prussia as his vessel. Without thinking he turned to his table and wrote a letter requesting an architect to design a cheap, reliable building compound to be mass produced. It needed a dining room for fifty, a sleeping hall, a stables, a guard post and a small barracks. He then called in his aid and handed them the letter with his seal. He then began sketching such a compound for himself. He then called the aid back and said to expand the request to a cartographer. He needed an accurate map of Prussia.
It was a busy life, but he was going to get used to it. He could already feel Prussia's massive size shrinking at his feet. In time, he though, I shall be able to cover it with only my thumb. He would get through this and be better for it. Back at his desk he leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the table. A well deserved rest for the good King.