"Well…"

The major seized Johann's wrist and more-or-less forced the becky into his hand. "Just give it a try," he repeated. "You can either trade it yourself on the exchanges"-from the look on the miller's face there was no chance of that happening-"or, what I personally recommend, is that you trade it back to the regiment to get whatever goods or services we can provide."

"Which would be what?" the miller asked skeptically.

Fruehauf glanced around the mill house. "Don't be stupid, Johann. I was born and raised in a village myself. Any mill house needs repair work-and I'll bet you my good name against that becky in your hand that we've got carpenters and blacksmiths in the regiment that are at least as good as any in Tetschen."

The carpenters and blacksmiths in the town wouldn't be happy to hear that, of course. But that was none of the miller's concern and Fruehauf saw no reason to explain that the regiment would probably wind up trading the miller's flour for the services of the area's carpenters and blacksmiths. Who could say? They might even wind up being used to repair the miller's equipment.

The secret of economics was ultimately simple. Just keep people working. The manner in which that was done didn't really make a big difference. Having a regiment of twelve hundred men living in the area would inevitably stimulate the economy so long as everyone was convinced that peace and stability would be maintained and that the money being circulated was of good value.

The first had already been established. General Stearns had been shrewd in choosing the Hangman to leave behind. The story of the regiment's origins and purpose had spread widely by now. Not least of all because the general's printing presses had seen to it. And Colonel Higgins made sure that his men maintained good behavior in their relations with the townfolk.