“-carve the smaller rootlets off flush at the tap root. That's right, gently, gently! Good. Now, if you have it, a bit of tar or sap to seal the wound, if not, crumble a bit of plant matter around them as you replant. It will keep the moisture in the soil away for a short while. Hopefully enough to prevent rot.”

  Blake moved the Pahadi’s hands away from the root for a moment and dabbed a bit of pine sap onto the cuts on the dandelion tap root. A nearly worthless, but available, stand-in for the valuable Kutki. Then demonstrated how to wrap mulch on the root surface as he carefully replanted it in the waiting crate of earth. Making a point of showing the depth, and where the root stuck partially from the piled earth to leave the stem above clean.

  “For the rootlets, make sure to remove as much earth as possible, preferably by rubbing them down with a cloth.” He demonstrated, cleaning and drying them, but without damaging the tough root skin. “It doesn’t take much effort, but leave them dirty and wet and they might rot. Get that off, and they can last for several months. But will steadily lose potency, and value, so try to get them back to me inside of a few days so I can prepare and preserve them properly.”

  Blake waved a hand and the ghostly image of a low-growing plant, its distinctive saw-toothed, purple-edged leaves on full display, dissipated. Leaving an elaborately inked ritual with a half-faded monster core at the center and a back wall covered in floor-to-ceiling unrolled scrolls. Images of over a hundred plants were on full display, many with several paragraphs of minuscule writing beneath them.

  It was a daunting sight!

  “Never mix your medicines! One plant, one pouch!” He repeated, for at least the thirtieth time. Then sighed. “It will happen. I warn and I warn, but when you see a valuable plant, and have no more pouches to use, you will try it. And when you bring it to me, I will know! Don’t think re-bagging it later will save you! I. WILL. KNOW.” He stared out at them, a naked threat in his generally genial voice. “If you don’t want to find out how angry I can get, then just bring more pouches with you. They don’t weigh much, and aren’t hard to tie to your belt! There is no excuse!”

  He stared for a few more moments, then sighed. “That will do for today. But if you want to harvest any of the more valuable plants, then I expect you to make yourself available regularly. And be prepared to demonstrate that knowledge!”

  And that was his cue. Ethan stepped into the room and walked, loudly, to the front, waving a hand absently as nearly 30 men stood and slammed hands to chest in salute. Alpine hunters and Pahadi for the most part, but with a few Princeps thrown in to spread the word.

  “Alright, alright. Calm down now. You can thank the Magister for his time in a moment. First, some words must be said. We are new to these mountains!”

  He waved his hand broadly in a wide arc then pointed to the scrolls on the wall behind him. “And even all this wealth may be but a small portion of all that is here, waiting to be found. It is exciting!”

  A rumble of agreement met him as men smiled widely and he could practically see the gold coins in their eyes.

  “That’s part of the better, but now to the bitter. This is our home, and the resources in it are mine by right of deed, title and strength.” The room became deadly quiet. “I now decree that anything on the silver and copper lists-“ He gestured to his left and to the scrolls dabbed with a bit of the aforementioned colors. Plants that ranged from valuable dyes and medicinal ingredients to the common but tasty mountain garlic and pepper grass. “-are to be considered of the commoning. Any of my subjects in good standing may harvest them, so long as you follow the Magister’s strictures. A quarter of the silver is the fiefs due, but none on the copper.” No smiles graced their faces even at that quite generous bequeathal. Ethan wasn’t surprised.

  “The gold list is different.” Yellow paint dabbed the sides of this much shorter list. He was not so improvident as to waste gold on a visual aid. “If the plants are damaged or overharvested, it is an assault on our future. An assault on your lord and yourselves. On Alfwin pass and the livelihoods of everyone who lives here. And I. Will. Not. Tolerate it.”

  He glared outward

  “Only capable harvesters, those whose skills have received the Magister’s nod, may do the picking and all proceeds must be sold to the Fief.” He could practically hear the held breaths let go. It was, of necessity, a generous offer. The value was too large, and the size too small to keep an iron grip on it. Nor was it worth the cost to morale.

  “The fiefs take will be half, but it won’t be taken for nothing. Training on what has value, an expert to apply the proper preservation methods and a safe place to sell. These are not minor benefits. Anything on the gold list can and will get a man murdered. It’s too much wealth in too small, and portable a size to be safe.”

  “For those without the skill to harvest it right, don’t worry, you will not be left out. I offer a bounty on sightings. One part in ten of the value.” Smiles were beginning to dot faces. He could practically hear their inner dialogues. He wasn’t claiming everything! They could still earn literal fortunes with a bit of luck. And indeed they could.

  “But that brings us to the final list.” He pointed to one side, where eight elegantly and artistically painted plants stood framed by two stripes of improvised imperial purple, a mix of the common red clay pigment and Gentian Blue, “This list is dangerous. For me. For you lot? It’s a death sentence! I plan to offer them to my direct Liege, the Emperor, may his light ever shine on us!”

  “-May his light ever shine on us!”

  “And I intend them to be an Imperial monopoly. Nothing on that list will be sold to anyone but Him, and to defy this decree will be to steal from the Emperor.”

  He stared out at them, forcefully trying to imprint just how serious he was onto each and everyone. He stared outward for several, silent seconds.

  “Not that it’s a chance many of you will get. They are worth obscene prices because they are dreadfully rare. The Gold list is as well, if less so. You might find a few golds over the years, but many of you will go your entire life without seeing the Purple.”

  He’d love for it to be otherwise. But then again, if they were common, they wouldn’t be worth as much!

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “But if you do, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO HARVEST IT! Bring back word, and let someone trained, and skilled do it. The bounty will not be small! A year’s wages for anything on the Purple! Three gold coins. Don’t ruin that, and your life, by getting greedy, or overconfident. You won’t survive. And it won’t just be me that ensures this is so.”

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes My Lord!” 40 somewhat hoarse, voices chorused, hands slapping to chests in salute.

  “Good! Then by all means, don’t stumble around and into a nest of beasts or monsters and get yourselves killed. But as you travel, keep your eyes open. The Lady of Fortune may smile on you!”

  ____

  “Why are so many of your most valuable plants Libidnis helpers?” Guile asked, tearing a wing from the well-roasted duck. “I get the longevity, who doesn’t want to stay young longer?“ He didn’t say live longer, Ethan noted with a small hidden grin. Typical guile. Not that he was wrong. “But why so many cures for impotence or pecker hardeners?”

  “Because humans are stupid.” Blake shot back. Sipping at his tea. “How should I know?”

  “Because coin, after a certain point, is merely a counter in a game,” Ermina supplied with a bit of red in her cheeks, “a game played most often by the elderly. Where better to spend those counters than on pleasure or a longer life?”

  “Advancement.” Conner replied, drawing the word out as he thought it through. “It’s a far more certain increase to longevity than any medicine and a bit of extra youth will go a long way to fixing the rest.”

  She shook her head softly. “No plant does more than assist, as you should well know Sir Conner. If they lack the fire to practice their skills and maximize their stats, no medicinal mix will help them.”

  Conner grunted, though the frown on his face showed he was far from convinced.

  “Just as well.” Ethan broke in before he could think of a response. “I’d be tempted to keep any of the training accelerators. These, what did you call them Ermina? Aphra-?”

  “Aphradisiacs, after the Goddess Aphrasias in her guise as the Lady of Love. It’s a more, hmm, polite term-”

  Blake raised an eyebrow at her. “- if one only used in certain circles.” She allowed.

  “Circles we want to sell to.” Ethan pointed out bluntly.

  She nodded her head in agreement.

  “Aphradisiacs they are then. Make the customer happy and they may pay more.” Blake gestured a touch and waved the issue away.

  “In the meantime,” he flicked his fingers and a Blue box opened above the council table, now liberally covered in the remains of a decent luncheon.

  “We will want to get this built rather quickly.”

  “You’ll have to upgrade it to get much use. Nothing on our gold list, and few on the silver, are Tier 0.” Ermina warned, tapping a few times, then nodding. “It requires glassware. Expensive to buy and not safe to transport. Or a large quantity of build points and really, we don’t want just a Tier 1 upgrade. To handle the expensive medicinals we’ll want at least Tier 2 and preferably 3.”

  “We don’t have the coin for 3.” Andrew pointed out. “We don’t have it for tier 2 either, for that matter. But we might be able to raise it. Not a chance for 3rd tier glasswork.”

  Reluctant nods circled the table. Including Ermina’s.

  “Not even 2.” Ethan offered, if with considerable regret. “I agree, My Lady. It is in many ways a waste to buy or build tools for a tier we hope to skip past quickly. But there are to many other competing claims on our limited coin. Just laying in sufficient grain and wine for next winter will take up the largest part of it.”

  She nodded again and with James in the background doing the same. But neither looked happy about it.

  “But it is not a waste in another way. We will still need herbalists to work the building and even at the basic level, we can get someone the class and start their training. Blake has offered to handle the more valuable herbs in the meantime.”

  “Handle them where?” He offered, though it seemed a halfhearted objection.

  Ethan flicked another finger.

  “We are getting close, my brother. Just waiting on finishing the wood shops to get you a bit better furniture, though even with that, we’ll take a quality hit on the tools. For now.”

  The glassware wasn’t just needed by the herbery and for many of the same tasks. But at least it could be replaced without a rebuild.

  “The quality is important, but just having it completed will be amazing.”

  “I’m glad you think so, but you are about to have considerably less time to play in it.” Ethan pointed out.

  “Between doing healing, concocting, offering classes on herbal recognition, harvesting and now a full herbalist trainee?” Blake counted them off on his fingers. “I’m aware. And not particularly happy about it. But it is an investment. Long term the herbalists will be able to take over much of it and I will have secured a steady stream of high-quality herbs for my work.”

  As long as he was willing, Ethan wasn’t about to complain. Moving on.

  “Did you pick out a few Decades to close the minor rifts we found Sir Conner?”

  “That I did. And the right lads for the Gobo rift too.” He offered with a dreadful smile on his face. One Ethan chose neither to comment on nor interfere with. Just so long as the rifts got closed and without undue casualties.

  “Sir James?”

  “The first load of iron is smelted and many of the tools and missing hardware are already on their way. Take a few weeks for all of it to get done, but nothing unexpected. The farms are set to break ground by the end of the week. We’ve done a pass over the pasture nodes and removed thistles and nettles, monkshood, milkweed, foxglove and a few other plants Magister Blake was kind enough to point out. Replanted three-quarters of them into a medical garden to. Amazing how many plants are both poisonous and beneficial.”

  Blake grinned. “There is a magisterial saying: Medicine or Poison is determined by dose. A bit of foxglove, prepared right, can strengthen a failing heart. But a few drops more can cause that same heart to fail. And while that might make you avoid it entirely, realize that few take such dangerous medicines if they weren’t dying already. Still, if I’m not available, make sure your Medic has a high Medicine skill.”

  James signaled his understanding and moved to the next item.

  Ethan was less convinced. As with many things, it was a bit more complex than that. Status screens were private. There was no sharing the blue box and medicine wasn’t a spear skill. You couldn’t watch a few thrusts and make a judgment.

  “-timbers are coming in quite quickly. A bumper crop this year while the Timberman set up the coppicing stumps. But we’ll get far less, and from smaller, thinner trunks next year. But it will be reliably the same amount year after year from then on.”

  “-berry patches are coming along, though it will be late spring to early summer before they start producing. –“

  “- medicinal garden node is looking like another cash crop! Though we’ve few enough seeds to fill it with. Mostly local stuff we replanted, but the potency of the mountain grown is far higher than in the lowlands.”

  “-frequent patrols are needed in the –“

  Ehan nodded along as the Quartermaster walked through the various projects and their completion dates or blockages.

  It was shaping up.

  It was shaping up quite nicely!

  ___