It was your solicitor who maintained the estate during the time between your father's death and your return. Naturally, you have reason to suspect that he would be the best source of any counsel regarding its continued operation.
Thankfully, it is not quite too late in the day to summon him to your study. When he arrives, it takes him only a glance at your desk to recognise precisely why you've called him to the house.
"One must understand, my lord, that there were certain matters regarding the estate over which I had no power," he reminds you when you confirm his first impression. "As his solicitor, I served as the caretaker of your lord father's interests, nothing more. My brief was to maintain things as he had left them, and this was an authority I took especial pains not to exceed."
"I understand," you reply, nodding. "But you were familiar with the functioning of the estate and its finances?"
"Oh yes, my lord, of that you might be assured," Saundersley replies. "I have knowledge enough regarding the estate and its current condition to advise you regarding most ordinary matters of administration, and if necessary, my understanding of the principles of estate management are at your disposal."
"Tell me about tenants and rents."
"My lord?" Saundersley asks, as if you'd just asked him for instructions on how to put on your own shoes.
In all fairness, you have been away for a substantial period of time. "Tenants and rents, Saundersley."
"Ah well, yes. As I am sure you are aware, my lord, tenants are the estate's primary source of income. For the rents that they pay at the end of every spring and autumn, a tenant household gains the right to live on and work in a certain portion of your estate. For the majority of tenants, this means agriculture, with the tenant in question working his assigned plot, selling his produce at market and using the proceeds to pay his rents. However, some of your tenants instead rent houses near the centre of the village and secure an income through other forms of trade: farriers, shopkeepers, that sort of thing."
You nod, Saundersley's explanation refreshing your memory. "I possess certain powers over my tenants, don't I?"
"You do, my lord," your solicitor replies. "As lord, you retain ownership of the estate itself and have the right to do as you wish to it, regardless of the occupancy or sentiments of your tenants. Likewise, you possess the right to judge minor infractions and resolve disputes betwixt your tenants, though your powers to deliver punishment remain limited. Any serious crimes—especially those which may warrant execution—must still be remanded to the Intendancy. However…" Saundersley hesitates for a moment. "However, I must advise you not to be too free with one's powers in that quarter."
"I don't intend to," you reply, with as much reassurance as you can. "I should hope that my tenants see me as a tolerant presence."
Saundersley nods approvingly. "I suspect that would be for the best. Your tenants retain the right to come and go as they please. If a lord is seen as too harsh or too uninterested in the prosperity of his lands or the happiness of his tenants, then he will be hard-pressed to keep the tenants he has—and an estate which bleeds tenants is one which is losing its income."
If that's the case, then you shall have to avoid such a reputation, or at least find a way to counteract its effects. "What about attracting new tenants?"
"That would be the surest way of increasing the estate's income, my lord," your solicitor replies. "Prospective tenants are drawn to a given fief for various reasons, but the chiefest among them are prosperity and security. If one's lands are seen as well-run and orderly, and its people are seen as industrious and successful, then one ought to quickly find new tenants flocking to his estate, especially in uncertain times such as these."
A good thing to remember.
"What about expenditures?"
"There are a great deal of them," Saundersley observes.
"Oh yes, I've noticed," you reply somewhat drily. Indeed, they had come as something of a shock. You had, of course, expected that the running of the estate would require some cost, but you certainly had not expected the hundreds upon hundreds of crown which the estate evidently requires every year.
"I dare say that they do add up, my lord," your solicitor replies as he pulls a few sheets of paper from your desk. "Between the cost of food, new clothing, pay for the staff, food and clothing for the same, the grounds, upkeep on the house, and various other amenities…"
You look over the figures which Saundersley hands you, tallying them up in your head. True, each item does seem rather modest in isolation, but combined together…
"And there may well be more, in future, of course."
Your eyebrow raises of its own volition. "More, Saundersley?"
"Yes, my lord," he replies, a little uneasily. "Should one desire to maintain a presence in the capital, a townhouse would need to be rented and staff would need to be hired for it—again, at considerable expense. Likewise, should one wish to undertake certain large projects on the estate, those may also require upkeep."
It is quite a lot to take in, you suppose. And that isn't even with the interest payments your family's debts require.
Saundersley, at least, seems to have no other complications to add. He simply smiles blandly. "Will there be anything else, my lord?"
"Have you any advice on improving the estate?"
Saundersley pauses in thought for a moment. "Well, if I must be pressed on the matter, my lord, I do believe there are certain improvements which might warrant further consideration, if the funds are available, of course."
True, there is still the debt, and other expenditures besides, yet even so. "Assume that they are, or may be sometime in future."
"I believe the house may require some extensive repair," Saundersley muses. "The outbuildings, as well. The fence too is in want of some care, I believe."
You suppose he's right. "I'll need to hire men for that sort of work."
"A great many of them, I should think, my lord," Saundersley notes. "The estate will have enough spare hands before planting and before harvest to work on one such project, but not two."
So you will have to make improvements one at a time. "Anything else?"
"Beyond that, one might wish to consider the possibility of further work, not only to the house, but to the estate as a whole," he continues. "If the roads were repaired or a covered market hall built in the village, that would encourage additional commerce. A new school might win you much gratitude amongst your tenants. If you were to refurbish your house in a more current style, that would display to any who see it that you are an involved and improving landlord, along with all that might entail."
You catch Saundersley's meaning. A lord who's seen as energetic in the maintenance and development of his estate can only raise the stature and respectability of the lands he administers.
You nod. "Is that all then?"
Your solicitor begins to nod back, but then stops himself. "There is one possibility, but it is the sort of thing which may well be far beyond our capabilities, at least in terms of cost."
That may be true, but Saundersley has your curiosity now. "Go on."
"It has been remarked upon occasion that the estate has the potential to support a project of considerable ambition," he explains. "Of course, no such undertaking has been made, such a thing would require thousands, if not tens of thousands of crown, and years of work. However, if such an enterprise were to be completed, the benefits to the estate could be quite immense."
You turn that thought around in your head for a moment. It is a tempting prospect, but it is one which you cannot allow yourself to consider viable just yet. You have barely arrived home, and to embark upon such a massive undertaking whilst you haven't yet gotten the feel of your estate would be like clambering atop an untrained and uncut stallion and spurring it to a gallop.
Of course, that doesn't mean you might yet consider the matter later…
"Explain loans and interest to me."
Saundersley pauses to think, but not for long. "I am sure your lordship is well enough acquainted with the fundamentals—that loans must be repaid and one must pay regular interest upon them until they are. I suppose that would only leave the matter of acquiring further loans."
"Further loans?" you ask half-incredulously. "This house is in debt far enough already!"
"It may be necessary, my lord," your solicitor replies apologetically. "To bring the estate to one's desired state of profitability may take considerable investment in the form of new buildings and other improving constructions. Such work would inevitably require a large initial investment in funds which may not be immediately available. Securing a new loan would be the easiest means to acquire those funds."
You suppose he has a point there. "Go on."
"Under normal circumstances, a bank maintains the power to refuse loans or demand immediate repayment at their own discretion," Saundersley continues. "However, they would only make such a decision in regards to a Gentleman of the Blood in case of the direst exigency."
"So let me see if I have you correct," you reply, putting it all together. "If a bank will neither refuse me a loan nor demand repayment, would that not mean I would effectively have access to a line of infinite credit?"
"Well, no, not quite," Saundersley replies with a rather apologetic expression. "If one borrows a great deal of money over repeated instances in a relatively short period—within five or ten years, shall we say—and the banks begin to see continued lending as a matter of somewhat increased risk, while they may be discouraged from demanding repayment, they will still attempt to mitigate that risk, usually by charging higher interest rates upon not only the newer debts, but on any previous ones as well."
So the more money you borrow, the more you will have to pay back in the end. Borrow too much, and you may end up taking on more debt solely to pay the interest on your previous debt; that could not end well. "This all seems rather mercenary," you observe.
Your solicitor answers with a rather grim expression. "Banks usually are, my lord."
"Is there no way to lower interest rates?" you ask.
"It is possible," Saundersley muses. "If one chooses the right words or may draw upon the right connections. Banks have been known to make allowances over that sort of thing, though rarely twice, and almost never thrice. Beyond that, my only counsel would be to take out multiple smaller loans when needed, rather than a single great loan all at once. Such a course of action ought to help keep interest rates as low as possible. Anything beyond that is subject to your judgement, my lord."
You suppose that's only fair. Saundersley may be qualified to offer advice, but you're still lord of the estate.
"Will that be all?"
"Have you any recommendations for improving the estate's condition?"
"At first, my lord? I would suggest a good supper and a night's rest," Saundersley replies. "Decisions such as these are rarely made well when made in haste."
You suppose he has a point. You've seen the results of rash decisions made on too little sleep before, and it's almost never pleasant. "Very well, what then?"
"Then I would recommend you first address the current decline in the fief's population."
"Decline?" That doesn't sound good. "What kind of decline are we talking about?"
Saundersley nods gravely. "It has been a matter of concern for some time. For the past ten years, we have consistently lost more tenants than we have gained. Your lord father believed it to be due to the exactions of the King's war taxes and held out hope that the end of the war in Antar would bring some relief."
"Perhaps," you reply, though not with particular confidence. "The war taxes may yet be repealed."
Your solicitor's frown deepens. "If we cannot rely upon the Cortes, then we may be in some trouble. Though we are only losing a few tenant households a year, such a rate of loss is not one we might sustain indefinitely. It may be wiser to take more direct measures."
"Such as?"
"I would recommend that improvements and repairs be made to render living here more attractive," Saundersley replies. "Repairs to the roads and the manor house to present visitors with a more pleasant impression, a market hall to bring additional commerce and create an air of prosperity. We could also take measures to improve the condition of those tenants already on your land. Repairs to the cottages or a new school might convince those who would otherwise go elsewhere to remain."
"This will cost a great deal," you note, your eyes narrowing. "Perhaps more than I have available."
"You may have to secure a loan," Saundersley advises. "It is not so shameful a thing. Many of your predecessors did. When done sparingly, it is not so terrible a burden."
Perhaps. If that is what's required to realise your ambitions for your lands, further loans might be necessary…
"My lord?" Saundersley is still there, evidently growing uneasy by your pensive silence. "Will there be anything else?"
"That will be all, thank you."
Saundersley nods. "Very good, my lord," he says as he withdraws from your study, leaving you once again alone with your notes.
It is too late now to get much business done. You call for supper and let the information that your solicitor has given you turn in your thoughts for a while before you at last go to bed.
The next day, you return to your desk and begin the work of administering your fief in earnest.
.
:embarassed: :aroused:
