Chapter Eleven: The Big Deal (2)
The elegantly dressed middle-aged gentleman was Viscount Krayan from the city-state of Naples, a scholar-like man. Setting down his jade-inlaid snuffbox, he said calmly but firmly, “Duke Teyz, please forgive my bluntness, but I believe our three nations, along with your country, have reached an agreement on the number of refugees to accept. One hundred thousand is the limit our three nations can accommodate. I think there’s no need to discuss this further. This is the joint opinion of me, Baron Buhaz, and Viscount Seribas.”
Hearing this, Komer was filled with shock. Was he expected to accept 170,000 refugees? That was absolutely impossible. Ignoring Duke Teyz’s stern gaze, he raised his hand to interject, “Wait, Viscount Krayan. I think some issues need clarification. My Caucasus region cannot accept even one person beyond 100,000. Even then, I can’t guarantee that all 100,000 will survive this winter and next spring.”
170,000?! That was an utterly unmanageable number. If those refugees died in large numbers on his territory, the humanitarian pressure would force the kingdom’s court to hang him. No matter how strict Duke Teyz was or how much financial support was offered, Komer wouldn’t take such an unfounded risk.
The skeptical looks of the three representatives all turned toward the Minister of Internal Affairs. A hint of anger flashed across Duke Teyz’s face, but it vanished quickly. The coldness in his gray-blue eyes made Komer lower his head in guilt. “My lord, please forgive my rashness. The basic conditions in Caucasus are simply too poor to support these refugees through the winter…”
Before Komer could finish, the Minister of Internal Affairs waved his hand to cut him off. “Enough about the winter issue. We’ll discuss it later. Let’s settle this like this: Caucasus will accept 150,000 refugees, and the remaining 120,000 will be taken in by Naples, Media, and the Netherlands. What do you all think?”
Komer almost stood up again, but ultimately sat back down in frustration. After exchanging glances, the representatives from the three nations agreed that this was likely the maximum capacity of the Kingdom of Nicomedia. If pressured any further, that rural lord might indeed refuse outright. Viscount Krayan nodded in approval of Duke Teyz’s proposal, and the first issue finally reached a consensus, allowing Duke Teyz to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Slow down! Duke Taze, since you’ve made your decision, Komer has no choice but to obey. But I must state clearly from the start: the Caucasus is too barren. There are no reserves now, nor the financial means to build any, so it’s absolutely impossible to accommodate such a large number of refugees. I can’t guarantee food, housing, fuel, land, jobs, or any other logistical support. I bring this up first for everyone to consider. It’s not that I’m unwilling to share the burden, but the Caucasus is remote, with poor transportation and scarce resources. Even if we survive this winter, it will be extremely difficult to endure the famine next spring. I originally planned to recruit only 30,000 workers, but now that you’ve forced me into this situation with no way out, I must first clarify this crucial issue.” Only after the others had expressed their opinions did Komer calmly present his own views. The terms of the negotiation that followed were what truly mattered—whether it was 80,000, 100,000, or 150,000, he would still accept them, as it had already exceeded his expectations. By now, it was too late to back out, so it was better to ask for a large amount and try to get as much as possible.
The representatives of the three kingdoms certainly understood Komer’s intention of intervening at this point, but what he said made sense as well. To suddenly accommodate 150,000 people in the barren Caucasus—without even considering whether they had enough logistical resources—was a huge challenge. Even for the three kingdoms, housing and food were major issues, so it was reasonable for him to raise this problem.
“Baron Komer, we three kingdoms and the Kingdom of Nicosia are deeply grateful for your efforts during this refugee crisis. Due to our own circumstances, we’re unable to make significant adjustments to the number of people we can accept. However, we’ve discussed this with Duke Taze and are willing to provide you with financial support to help these refugees through the initial difficult times. It may not be much, but it should at least help in an emergency.” Speaking was Baron Buhaz, who had a somewhat arrogant posture with his belly protruding. His grayish-yellow mustaches twitched slightly as his lips moved, giving him an air of pretension.
As a wealthy city-state among the Three Kingdoms, Media not only lay at the strategic crossroads of the two major routes in the western part of the Azure Continent but also had abundant silver mines, which served as an important source of revenue for the city-state. These silver mines also contained significant amounts of magic crystal ore, renowned throughout the western Azure Continent. Such materials were essential for crafting various magical artifacts, weapons, and equipment, their value beyond measure in monetary terms. Thus, Media was one of the staunchest supporters of opposing the policy of accepting refugees, only agreeing to it under the strong protests and pressure from the Kingdom of Nicomedia.
Finally, we’ve reached the most crucial part. Komer was prepared, with a slight smile on his lips, and asked casually, “Emergency relief? Mr. Buhaz, you really know how to joke. Do you really think these refugees can survive until next year’s harvest with just temporary aid? They are human beings, and they are citizens of allied nations who paid the price of losing their countries to resist the orc attacks. To suggest abandoning them in the barren Caucasus like beggars with a few gold shields and then ignoring them completely seems unreasonable. I believe not only I and Duke Tez but also all the refugees would never agree to such a plan.”
“Yes, Baron Buhaz, your statement contains some inaccuracies. No matter how much tangible help we can provide to these refugees, we must take responsibility for their survival. Otherwise, no one will be willing to sacrifice themselves in the next orc attack.” For the sake of money, Duke Tez also joined in supporting Komer’s stance. Now that the overall situation was settled, it was time to seek benefits. Duke Tez was very satisfied with the performance of this country lord before him. He didn’t know that his personal attendant, sent early in the morning to convey his message, had not found Komer himself. At that time, Komer was still in the wilderness, so the attendant could only briefly inform Kafli about the details of the banquet, without delving into the key matter of working together with the duke to extract benefits.
However, it was clear that the representatives of the Three Kingdoms were also prepared for their tactics. Ultimately, it all came down to one thing: money. Without it, this Caucasus lord who had traveled thousands of miles would likely refuse to accept even one refugee, even under threat of a sword to his throat. And Duke Tez would have already thrown these representatives out long ago. Given the current financial situation of the Kingdom of Nicomedia, it was simply impossible to cover the costs of addressing this refugee crisis.
“Duke Taze, Baron Komer, please forgive Baron Buhaz’s grammatical mistakes. Of course, we must provide the necessary living support for the refugees. However, all three of our countries also need to accommodate over a hundred thousand refugees, and our finances are not abundant. Therefore, we can only do our best to offer support. I hope you two won’t misunderstand.” The Dutchman finally spoke up. Things had come to this point, and there was no need to argue over trivial details anymore—it was time to lay things bare. “Our idea is to provide each refugee with ten gold shields, based on the number of refugees received by the Caucasus, to cover their temporary housing, winter food and fuel, as well as later resettlement costs. What do you two think?”
“Ten gold shields? Ho ho, Mr. Seribas, you’re truly generous. One hundred and fifty thousand people would mean one million five hundred thousand gold shields—what an astronomical amount! As a countryman, I’ve never seen such a huge sum of money before. It would keep me awake for days! Don’t you think you’re being too generous?” With a face red as if struck by a venomous snake, Komer suddenly stood up and paced back and forth in the lounge, hurling sarcastic insults: “It’s truly ridiculous! The great nations of Naples, Media, and the Netherlands want to sell one hundred and fifty thousand people from allied countries who have made great sacrifices to them to a desolate, remote place for just one million five hundred thousand gold shields. I imagine the editor of the ‘Garfilo’ newspaper would be very interested to hear the details of this deal.”