He reported directly to his father upon his return. “It sounded rather dire, Father.”
“They aren’t too happy with me, I imagine.”
“No, I got the impression that they’re not.”
“Did the ambassador have any suggestions?”
Taréz shook his head. “No, but I was hoping he did. The camp is a huge expense, and a much larger project than the South Hall.”
“I know. Did he have anything else to say?”
“Well, one, there is apparently the scent of war. By a unified force. They don’t fear Gardric.”
“I suspected as much. I’ll have to order Gardric to plan a defense... and to prepare very, very discreetly. We don’t want to appear to ready to fight this out. And that was all?”
“No, though it seems somewhat inconsequential in the face of everything else. Watchers reported a less than favorable account of how I interacted with Princess Rakeynna, and her father is less than pleased, especially in light of events here.”
“That is not inconsequential. A snub to a man’s daughter, real or imagined, can very easily set him at edge. If there is talk of unifying for a war effort, he may well be the nucleus, all due to how he feels you treated his daughter.”
“Politics!” Taréz snorted.
“For what it’s worth, I thought you handled the situation well. Rakeynna doesn’t have the most favorable reputation.”
“If it weren’t for Pimber, I’d say I prefer war to a woman any time.”

It wasn’t very often that Taréz got to see the Chief of the Army out of his element, but this was one time. He had a report that Yis would normally have done: the quarterly receipts from the nobles’ taxes.
“We have received ten thousand four hundred eighty platin crowns, thirty-four thousand nineteen gold shillings, and fifty-eight thousand one hundred ninety silver marks,” he reported, “Down roughly twenty percent in each category.”
The King’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Twenty percent?! Are you sure?”
“Y— uh, no, I’m not, Your Majesty. Math was never my strong suit.”
“Let me see.” Gardric handed the parchment accounting tables to the King, seemingly glad to get rid of them. The King looked them over, and worked at them for a while. Finally, he let out a low whistle. “I liked the figures better before. If my math is correct, the figures are down thirty percent.”
Thirty percent?! “By the Great Master!” excalimed Taréz. “This situation had better resolve itself soon! May I see?” He looked at the figures again, and saw that receipts were down throughout the kingdom, and almost completely wiped out in the areas that were now depopulated (of course). “Gardric, I hope you realize that the results would be the same if we had simply evicted all the light Vle.”
“But then, we would never have to support them, as you are doing now.”
“But even if we didn’t end up with a war, we’d never get the light Vle back. We need the light Vle, Gardric. It’s all right here on this sheet of parchment.”
“Sire, their jobs can easily be refilled by us.”
“No, they cannot! Our people are too busy already.”
Just then, Stecky came into the chamber and addressed the King. “Sire, a pigeon has brought a message for you.”
“From whom?”
“Yis, Sire.” He handed the small roll to the king, who unrolled it and squinted to read the writing aloud. “Your Majesty,
I respectfully greet you, and hope all is well in the palace. I write because all is not well here. Construction is lagging far behind the arrival rate, and we badly need more laborers to help, as well as more materials. I may be able to convince some more of my people to help, but that still leaves the problem of materials! Please, Sire, send more.
Your servant, Yis.”
“Yis wants more money, Gardric,” Taréz said.
“Are you sure you can trust him?”
“Gardric! He’s only doing what he thinks best for his people! Now, let’s see what we can give him.”
“Yes, Sire.”
The three Vle pored over the accounting tables again, and found that there would actually be a shortfall that year. Which, of course, meant a shortfall for the next year as well. There simply was no money.
The King collapsed in the chamberlain’s chair, his face a blank weariness.