Chapter 16: Friends of Bamboo

Perujin Agricultural Country, a nation that boasted of having “no piece of land unfarmed,” did not possess anything even remotely close to a standing military. While there were royal guards who protected the king and his family, their numbers were dwarfed not only by the imperial army, but even the private armies of many Tearmoon nobles. Furthermore, many of their royal guards—upwards of eighty percent—were actually farmers rather than professional soldiers. So trifling was their military presence that if a war ever broke out, the only fate in store for Perujin was utter defeat.

Despite its inability to defend itself, Perujin still stood. The reason it had not suffered any invasions and could maintain its existence as a sovereign state was the widely-recognized authority of the Central Orthodox Church, as well as Perujin’s consistent stance of complete submission toward the Tearmoon Empire. The foundational moral fabric weaved through the continent by the Church and shared by all nations served as a powerful deterrent against frivolous attempts at conquest through warfare. On top of that, Perujin had the backing of Tearmoon’s military, which served to dissuade any potential opportunists.

This geopolitical reality did not, however, rob Perujin of ambition.

“Food is the vehicle through which we will conquer the continent.”

That was the grand vision proposed by an ancient Perujin monarch. Generations of royal families complied, vigorously pouring much of Perujin’s resources into the advancement of agricultural technologies. They’d effectively turned their weakness into an advantage, recognizing that their lack of military prowess also meant a lack of need. Instead of sinking funds into an army, they focused on agriculture. Their people rallied under the inspirational banner of improving Perujin’s prosperity by developing a large variety of high-quality crops. Inherent in this vision was the message that they wouldn’t always remain a vassal state. That with enough hard work, they’d one day get their payback on all the other nations. So they worked, and worked...

But their hard work never bore fruit. Why? Because their neighbor and vital source of military backing was the farmer-hating Tearmoon Empire. It was through being a vassal state of Tearmoon that Perujin had kept themselves safe, but their protector refused to recognize the value of Perujin’s strongest asset: agriculture. Instead, the empire offered only belittling glances, as if they didn’t deign to soil their eyes with the dirty sight of Perujin people working the land.

Between Perujin and Tearmoon, there lay a vast and nigh-unbridgeable gulf of culture and understanding.

“Please accept my deepest gratitude for granting me this audience, Your Majesty. It is an absolute honor to meet you.”

The King of Perujin watched as the man before him, Shalloak Cornrogue, kneeled.

“It is a majesty I bear only in name,” he said with a grimace, “as the king of a vassal state. There is no need for such excessive formality. But pray tell. What does a famed merchant like yourself seek from a country like this?”

The king was well aware that among the aristocracy, pride and deference were worth their weight in gold, but merchants sought only the gold. The only time they conformed to the protocols of nobility was when it would benefit them in a business negotiation. To merchants, kneeling was purely a means to an end.

“Ah, Your Majesty is as wise as the rumors say. I see that mere gestures and flattery will not earn me your trust.”

“‘Wise’? You speak odd words. I am but a simple man who rules a small rural country,” said the king as he waved a hand at Shalloak to take a seat.

“‘Simple’? It seems that we both indulge in odd words then. In my eyes, Your Majesty not only possesses a weapon that can slay even the mightiest of rulers in the continent, but continues to hone its edge.”

“Oh? A weapon, you say? Might you enlighten me, then, as to what weapon I possess when my country is devoid of soldiers? Do you accuse me of amassing an army in secret?”

“Your Majesty jests. Armies? Soldiers? Leave such things to the foolish empire. To maintain peace in your land, you need only appeal to Belluga. No... You have something far more fundamental. Something that can strike at the very core of human existence.” Shalloak’s lips spread into a smile. “You possess food, Your Majesty.”

The king’s brow twitched warily at Shalloak’s comment. “I see... It’s true that my country has invested a great deal of effort in our agriculture, but calling it a weapon is a tad excessive, don’t you think? I find it a rather unsettling choice of words.”

He attempted an evasive chuckle, but Shalloak refused to let him escape.

“As a nation so focused on agriculture, surely, you feel it coming. The signs are there: crops are failing, harvests are suffering—a famine is imminent. And what’s valuable during famines? Not gold, not gems. Food.” Shalloak looked the king in the eye. “Doesn’t it get under your skin, Your Majesty? How your country is referred to as a vassal state of Tearmoon? Perujin boasts such remarkable agricultural prowess, but so long as the empire stands, your country will forever be treated as a footnote.”

This statement did get under the king’s skin. In fact, it went straight to his heart and twisted the thorn already lodged there, for it touched on the cursed chains that had been binding Perujin for a long, long time.

“That will change with the people in power,” the king said. “I hear the Tearmoon princess is well-versed in matters of cuisine. Her presence will surely bring about positive changes to our position.”

“Your Majesty wishes to rely on the pity of a young princess? That sounds like...a very defeatist attitude.”

This time, the king’s whole upper body twitched. He knew that the experience and expertise Perujin had accumulated were the real deal, paid for by the sweat and blood of countless technicians and farmers. The cost was immeasurable. The value, even more so. And yet...their reward was to be a desperate reliance on the pity of a single princess? Framed that way, it was a very bitter pill to swallow.

Nevertheless, he could still swallow it if he was alone in his grievances. According to his daughters, Princess Mia was a virtuous person. She was also in the process of consolidating Tearmoon’s political power in her hands. Whatever she chose to do with it, it would undoubtedly be beneficial to Perujin.

But etched into the king’s mind were the hunched forms of his people, their backs to the searing sun, their sweat wetting the soil. He saw them whenever he closed his eyes. Some of them were no longer here; they were ghosts of past laborers who’d placed the country’s future on their shoulders.

Could he allow the seeds they’d toiled so arduously to sow bear fruit in such a fashion? To reward their sacrifice with a Perujin like this?

A voice echoed seductively in his ears. Crops were weapons. They had the potential of becoming deadly armaments that could kill the monster that was the empire. That which their ancestors had spent generations building up could be used to strike back at those who looked down on them. The king felt his heart waver at the thought.

“What exactly are you proposing? If we hold back on our crop exports, Tearmoon will be knocking on my doors within the week.”

“It’s very simple, Your Majesty. Simply raise your prices. But not by an unreasonable amount. Keep it appropriate...or perhaps just a little more than appropriate. Not enough for Tearmoon to consider sending troops down to pressure you. You just need to push the price up a tiny bit. Then, when they’ve gotten used to the new price, push it up again.” Shalloak narrowed his gaze. “By the way, Your Majesty, would you happen to know the trick to cooking alive the eight-limbed fish known as an Archdaemon’s familiar?”

The king arched an eyebrow at this sudden question.

“It’s also very simple,” explained Shalloak. “If you suddenly drop it in a pot of hot water, it will escape. Instead, you slowly heat the water. That way, by the time it realizes what’s going on, it’s too late—it will already be cooked.”

He grinned.

“What’s important is the rate at which you fan the flame. And that kind of delicate adjustment is what we merchants are best at. So how about it, Your Majesty? May I be entrusted with the task of negotiating with Tearmoon?”

“So that’s what you’re after. I understand now. Unfortunately, I cannot give you an immediate answer... Tell me, Mr. Cornrogue, will you be attending the Thanksharvest Festival?”

“I certainly will, and I plan to turn a good profit, at that.”

“In that case, I will give you your answer after the festival is over.”

So ended their talk. Neither party was aware of the princess who’d been hiding within earshot. Nor did they know that, like a pair of bamboo shoots sharing underground rhizomes, she and her Tearmoon counterpart were far more connected than they outwardly appeared.

This doesn’t sound good at all... What should I do?

Rania hid in a room next to the audience chamber, urging her quickening breaths to still. The room was familiar to her. She and her sister used to play here frequently when they were young. A crack ran along the wall separating the room from the audience chamber, and their young thirst for mischief had often led them to press their ears to it and eavesdrop. Such behavior would normally be unthinkable for someone of royal blood, but Perujin, being a smaller country, was laxer in its standards and allowed for a degree of organic spontaneity.

I mean, I doubt father will actually do what he said, but...

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t rid herself of a lingering sense of unease. What if it had been her past self listening to the man, before she’d met Mia? Would she have been able to turn his offer down? Her heart wavered.

It’s going to be a big problem if father goes along with the idea. Princess Mia needs to know. But...should I be telling her?

What her father was considering amounted to a direct act of betrayal toward Tearmoon. If things went badly, he might end up angering Mia. Nothing good could come of that. After a period of contemplation, she resolved to act immediately. She needed to get word to Mia as soon as possible.

I have to tell Princess Mia. She’ll know what to do!

The one thing that didn’t waver was her trust in Mia.