Late night bickering

As Amadeo had since long left the room, the rest of the assembly had been left for arguing the past half an hour, leaving Jakub with a subtle headache. Chaos had erupted amongst the politicians as their referee had left, and Giuseppe's meagre attempts to take Amadeo's place and command calmness seemed futile.

"What do you want me to do about it?! Should I just command and pull prophets out of my ass?! I'm sure the people in Ukraine willingly will throw their lives for Russia!" The Patriarch rumbled across the round table.

"This isn't about Russia, Matviy!" Benedict shouted, flustered as he stood up with his hands plastered on the Mediterranean sea.

"Well, tell that to them! If the Russians are too proud to acknowledge any help, is it really our problem?!" Matviy sputtered.

A scoff that ruffled Benedict's moustache appeared as he shook his head.

"We must see past whose right and who is wrong and focus on what is right in the next steps forward." Another man said, with the red tuxedo standing up, no longer avoiding the spotlight.

"It's all so easy for you to say, hiding in your safe harbours and boats, far away from the hellscape. What will you do? What will you do Lehmann to help?" One of the orthodox priests said with a finger waving in the air next to Matviy. The man in the red tuxedo begrudgingly shook his head as he chewed on the saying.

"I will contribute with donations and loans to the eastern front and start by contacting the main distributing newspapers in central and western Europe." Lehmann responded.

Matviy scoffed and smiled.

"Do you hear that, Stanislav? The big rich banker will give handouts to all the noble warlords on the eastern front! Like it wouldn't be used for political games…"

"Perhaps we should bring more wine if no one wants to object?" Giuseppe said, trying to calm down the outbursts.

"Please do; we won't sleep anyways for an hour or two!" Jakub filled in from his silent and lonely position near Benedict. The men let out a round of chuckles as they seemed to agree on one thing. Perhaps I should go and fetch Yuri; things are finally getting interesting.

Giuseppe nodded as he gestured towards a waiter near the entrance.

"Any help towards the eastern front is welcomed, Lehmann, you can expect me to uphold my honour." Stanislav continued. Perhaps a vendetta from earlier engagements this evening triggered Hans to stand up from his sitting.

"How much is ze word of ein Soviet worth? Lenders need some insurance zat we are not paying for extra rounds of Vodka in ze military trenches."

Stanislav seemed almost allergic to the German as he stood up equally fast.

"How you even made it past the children's table, Hans is beyond me; your brother wouldn't even trust you to tie your own shoes, never the less letting you control any credit!"

The insult was not taken lightly as Hans pushed the chair away and began walking towards Stanislav, ready to throw a punch. The table, realising this could turn into a pub fight, erupted in shouting as Stanislav turned ready towards Hans. Multiple people flew up from the chair and began pushing Hans back.

"DU FETTER RUSSE! ich werde dich dazu bringen, diese Worte zu essen!"

A glass of red wine landed in front of Jakub as he comfortably watched Hans being held back by two men, seemingly Hungarian, whilst another two guests placed themselves in front of Stanislav.

"GENTS! GENTLEMEN! We can NOT act like this, for God's sake! We are adults! We can not squabble and bicker like dogs."

"Ze only dog I see is ze cheap Russian in front of me!" Hans spat out, still not giving up.

"I can also fight like one, kraut!"

Humanity is doomed.

Matviy cackled in the background as he saw the two go at it with insults. The room descended into an inaudible rumble as everyone began arguing and tried to settle down the fit that was between the two. Jakub sighed, reaching for the wine that the waiters had begun placing around, narrowly avoiding getting caught in the crossfire. He took the wine glass and swirled it around for a bit as a small layer of bubbles followed the whirlwind. He then placed the wineglass in front of his nose, closing his eyes and taking in the fruity aroma that travelled through his nostrils. Trying for a moment to avoid the blurry sound. He pulled the nose and then went for a sip, feeling the zesty alcohol dance around his buds. A filling taste that spread out evenly; an upswing from the abuse the knödels had put his mouth through.

"A wine taster in his element?" The voice sounded familiar as Jakub opened his eyes again. It was Lehmann, the man that had throughout the night sat observing, lurking and yet present in his red tuxedo. It was a clean-shaven man in his fifties.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we have introduced ourselves before this night." Lehmann said, holding out his hand. Jakub swallowed the wine and then grabbed the man's firm hand.

"I'm Renard Lehmann, bank director of the Zürich Swiss Bank."

"Jakub Wozniak, General of the Lukow regiment."

The man had a very warm smile as he shook Jakub's hand; the accent reminded him slightly of Hans, but it was clear that Reanard's English was leagues above with a slight tone of French. Or at least European for foreign ears.

"I thought we could perhaps stand up for a moment and talk a little bit further from the shouting. You wouldn't mind?"

Jakub almost swallowed the second wine sip down the wrong throat as he let go of Lehmann's right hand.

"Sure, can I bring the wine?"

"We are in the middle of a barfight; social etiquette is past due," Lehmann smiled. Both of them began to rise up, and Jakub could suddenly feel how the Kaiser spritzer had actually worked effect on his empty stomach as he felt out of balance trying to cramp out of the chair, following Lehmann, who had taken a lead.

They reached a corner, not too far from the rest of them in the room, but enough to keep a private conversation. Curious about what Lehmann had to say, he took another sip of his wine.

"Herr Wozniak. I'm going to be blunt about what I'm going to propose." Renard said, looking slightly over his shoulder as he turned his back towards the larger gathering.

"Amadeo is right, if the advance of Demons hastens towards the west, it forces our own hands to prepare. Either with or without the Russians."

"Isn't that what they are discussing now?" Jakub responded with a gloomy nod towards the pile of politicians.

"And how do you think that is going?"

Jakub took yet another sip, glancing for a second before returning eye contact with Renard Lehmann.

"What do you expect me to do about it? I can't convince them."

"No you can't…. And we are not the first to bicker about alliances. If it were up to me, I would avoid the east like the plague. However there is no denying, that the east will be the main focus of Europe, even more than Scandinavia if it were to fall."

Jakub took another sip of the wine, hoping that the warmth the alcohol provided would remove the cold tinge that hovered above him.

"That is true, I can't do much. But I will have talks with my own officers and discuss recruiting." Jakub responded finally.

"And how many could you recruit?"

He scratched the short stubble on his face before answering."Perhaps three-hundred, providing food and ammunition for such a company is already hard as it is."

Lehmann folded his hands, took a step backwards as he pushed the folded hands to his mouth, pondering. "Perhaps I have another solution to our problems. Before I arrived here, Amadeo had mentioned you to me in a letter. He told me about your access to Brest through the railroads. What is the scope of this access precisely?"

What is the end goal of this?

"The scope?"

"Yes, the scope. Can you enter and leave the city completely without penalty? From my understanding, you can travel and switch holdings between Lukow and Brest without opposition?"

"I mean, we don't have a base in Brest but we can travel there freely."

"But no one is ever checking your papers? Questioning your arrival?"

"No. The people of Brest rely on us for minor protection." Jakub said, leaving Lehmann with fuel for his clockwork that went around in his head.

"Well, then the railroads in those regions, are practically yours alone. No one is going to question your authority. Yes?"

My authority?

"Herr Wozniak, you are sitting on the silk road to the Russ-sphere. You might not have the biggest army, but you are independent from both the Belarusians, and If I stand correct, you don't involve yourself in Poland's own civil conflicts?"

"…Correct."

"Then, I have a proposition. In the next few years and months, the pope, along with the ruling states in Europe, will throw their resources east. Having you as an anchor for the west would spark a lucrative cash flow."

"Renard… before you continue in your grand plan. What do you expect me to do exactly?"

"… I suggest a loan." Lehmann answered with eyes analysing how Jakub would respond.

"A loan? I thought you wanted to aid the east, not build a money scheme."

"I think you are too haste in your conclusions. I will provide a smaller loan just to see what you can do with the resources at hand as collateral for future investments. Ask what you need, and I will provide it; the interest and lending time will be favourable to you in exchange."

Jakub scoffed. Greedy vultures, all of them.

"You expect me to fall for credit? To play in yet another power scheme like the rest of Europe? I'm not interested in your offer. We are playing with real lives and consequences."

"And do you expect me to give free handouts? I can't trust you just like you can't trust me; the purpose of the loan is not to be greedy but to test if you are the right man for the job. To either open more and penalty-free trade to the east through your railroads or to influence the alliances around the regions."

Jakub, looked down on his glass, swirled it around and then downed the rest of the wine down the throat.

"Why not the real power holders? Why not Stanislav? I won't oppose the usage of the railroads."

"Because Stanislav is not an independent entity, Belarus is a divided military power, and they act puppet states to the Kreml. There is no accountability beyond your railroads to enforce."

…What he asks is for me to go from protector to dictator. I do not own those cities. Let alone speak Belarus.

"…I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to decline your offer."

"…A shame… But we still have a couple of days left in here, the offer still stands, sleep on it and consider its values."