The Ceremonial Affairs Department was filled with the rustle of newspapers.
"What's this about Free City's losses? I don't recall the Chaos Cult ever going to Freedom Street."
In his office, Minister Ollie set down his newspaper and questioned the assistant standing by the door.
The assistant, a promising young man in his early thirties, replied, "They say the carriage carrying the financial statements ran into Chaos Cultists. They seized the statements and burned them."
"What a coincidence."
Minister Ollie gave a wry laugh. "The Empire's little neighbor is asking us for compensation."
His assistant understood at once. "Nothing New Under the Sun."
Whether the Champion Sorcerer received any compensation, though, was up to the Tax Collectors.
With the matter out of his hands, Minister Ollie went back to his newspapers. His expression gradually darkened.
The Thirteen High Kings drew attention wherever they went. Just as people had discussed last year's conflict between the Paem Kingdom and the Elven Royal Court, lords and politicians everywhere now had plenty to say about the Empire's troubles.
Wilhelm, as usual, paid no attention to anything beyond its borders. Most of Middle Earth offered a few comments, while the Southlands mostly resorted to mockery and sarcasm: when Barbarians stopped being barbaric, even their last shred of courage vanished.
What, you think the Southlands must have very few rat problems? That's different!
While Minister Ollie fumed over their gloating, the Finance Department next door was forced into action.
The Chaos Cult's attack had originally had nothing to do with them, but Freedom Street claimed its financial statements for April had been lost.
The Champion Sorcerer had a knack for business. Though Freedom Street was less than three years old, its monthly revenue had never fallen below thirty thousand Gold Narls. It ranked among the