Upon realizing that the 12,000 people here also had to pay taxes, Horn felt sothing was amiss.
In fact, when calculated carefully, among the 12,000 people, there were 10,693 adults aged 15 or older, approximately 21,386 Dinars, equivalent to 178 gold pounds and 26 Dinars.
Horn could afford this, as he still had over two thousand gold pounds from the Blue Blood Orphanage.
But this money was Horn’s ergency fund, and he didn’t want to use it unless absolutely necessary.
Most importantly, for other laborers or citizens, whatever, they could manage to stay until now because they had at least saved a few coins.
But the people in this new camp had no jobs and relied solely on the City Hall’s relief grain and work-for-relief sches.
If it weren’t for Horn, their situation would be almost like beggars, and it’s not right to tax beggars.
They hadn’t even received their first week’s wages yet — only grain advances — and had no money to pay this.
After thinking it over, Horn decided to clarify the situation, so he went to Joan of Arc Castle again.
Duke Dane was a rare strong noble standing on their side, and Horn’s villagers would need his protection in the future.
It’s not worth breaking up the cooperation over a possible misunderstanding.
Upon reaching the front of the castle again, a steward regretfully inford Horn that Priest Zandebeck was responsible for tax collection, and he didn’t know the details of the situation.
Horn had no choice but to hurry from the Duke’s castle to the City Hall on the other side of the city, only to be told by a clerk at the City Hall that Priest Zandebeck wasn’t there.
But the person responsible for dividing the tax districts was Buerwelf Bishop, who managed the household registrations. Perhaps Horn could go find him.
Seeing this situation, Horn knew what was going on; he wouldn’t really go looking for Buerwelf Bishop.
If he really went, there would surely be a reply like, "The Buerwelf Bishop has gone out, why don’t you ask XXX?"
After wandering around the city square for a while, Horn then went to find Casti, but it turned out Casti was locked in his house by two guards and was not allowed to see visitors.
Horn didn’t even care about the guards’ obstruction, went to knock on the door, but got no response.
Leading the horse down the avenue, Horn looked at the sky; after several turns, it was already afternoon.
The once vibrant sunlight was now shrouded under the rising faint black smoke, like an overlay of a dark tea-colored filter.
The rooster weather vane on the rooftops spun continuously around with the black smoke.
Usually, this kind of thing would be best investigated by Qianqian, but unfortunately, he wasn’t here now.
Earlier this morning, he took money and went to the countryside to buy grain, where the grain prices were still relatively cheap.
Currently, the grain prices in Joan of Arc Castle city had quietly risen to 2.5 Dinars per gallon for wheat and rice fruit, and 1.5 Dinars per gallon for barley.
When Horn first arrived, 1 Dinar could buy 8 loaves of bread, but today, it could only buy 5, a price increase of sixty percent.
"Damn goat!" Horn spat on the ground; now, he could only return to the camp.
Passing through the sa street as before, the lively atmosphere was gone.
The streets were covered in bloodstains and fragnts of doors and windows, various clothing and furniture scattered and shattered on the ground.
The laborers sat gray-headed and filthy on the steps in front of the doors, revealing hairy arms, leaning bleakly against the doors.
The weeping won carried their babies, picking up the fragnts of ho in front of the houses.
As Horn walked past with the guards, they looked up with eyes full of numbness.
The horse’s hooves trotted on the scorched ground; it was like a small war had just been fought here.
With the Empire’s inefficient administration, tax collection was barbarically crude.
In the future, when he reached Swamp Town, he really needed to find so experts in finance regarding these tax-related affairs.
Honestly, Horn thought Qianqian was pretty good; it’s just unsure if he was willing to go to Swamp Town with him.
Considering his current talent pool, managing Swamp Town with 800 people was more than sufficient.
Whether it was Madlan, Jeanne, Armand, Chervis or Grampwen, Dass, during the long marches and struggles, they had all been trained.
Thanks to the advanced feudalism hundred-household system, if there were only one or two thousand people, Horn would be quite confident in them.
After all, hair is hard to comb, but braids are easy to catch.
On this street, not everyone was crying; after a few steps forward, Horn could still see so laborers drinking to celebrate their survival after the calamity.
These well-inford or clever-minded laborers had received intelligence or noticed abnormalities in advance and hid their money.
Otherwise, solidarity was key; the relatively strong laborers used stones and fences to block the tax collectors’ advance.
The unpaid taxes from these "difficult people" would be deducted from those who had paid their taxes.
When the lord said to collect 1 Dinar, priests and soldiers wouldn’t honestly only collect 1 Dinar. The extra tax collected, besides feeding their people, had to cover those parts where taxes weren’t successfully collected.
With a long sigh, upon reaching the outskirts, the road widened a bit, Horn simply sped up his horse and returned to the camp.
He planned to temporarily stay in the camp and address the situation when Qianqian returned.
With currently no information, Horn didn’t want to act rashly.
Sitting idly in the wooden house, Horn held his head, still not quite understanding Duke Dane’s intentions.
An abrupt war tax; could it be that the situation in Thousand River Valley had escalated again? Or had so major event occurred that he didn’t know about?
Moreover, playing this way would surely destroy the reputation accumulated earlier, wouldn’t it?
"Duvalon!" Horn called towards the outside.
"What is it, Papa?"
"Go notify Jeska to take people to check the nearby important checkpoints, then René, have him take Cheka to the surrounding villages and refugee camps to investigate the situation."
"Understood."
"Also..." Horn stood up and walked around the wooden house twice, "Tell Jeanne and her Holy Grail Knight Order to be careful, do more patrols during this period."
No matter what situation it was with the Duke’s side, it’s always better to be prepared.
......
Standing at the iron-wood door entrance, Qianqian knocked on the door, awakening Horn who was correcting the dual-entry bookkeeping assignnts of the Child Soldiers and the bishops.
Seeing Qianqian, Horn relievedly tossed the pen aside: "Co in."
"Am I not disturbing you?" Qianqian asked, looking at the account books piled in front of Horn’s desk.
Horn responded with a wry smile: "You’re not disturbing , you’re saving . I gave these account books to those guys for practice, and they calculated an average investnt return rate of 380% for these guilds."
Qianqian couldn’t help but laugh; he unclasped his shirt buttons, revealing an exquisite collarbone, and used the account book to fan himself: "It’s their first ti; given their skill level, even managing to calculate it is good enough."
Seeing Qianqian sweating profusely, Horn stood up and poured him a cup of water.
"How’s the grain situation?"
"The first batch of grain, considered as a deposit, has already been transported here." Qianqian unreservedly took the water and drank a mouthful, "The rest is still being collected by them, expected to arrive gradually tomorrow or the day after."
"Have you heard about the tax issue?"
"I was just about to talk to you about this matter." Qianqian swiftly placed down the water cup and said rapidly, "This is too unusual; at first, I thought the Duke recruited these short-haired refugees and let you consolidate them for soldier recruitnt.
At least these people dared to resist, significantly stronger than timid farrs.
Recruiting them for soldiers wouldn’t require the Duke to extensively conscript among his own realm’s people, affecting the economy and his reputation.
But now, he’s unexpectedly taxing everyone; logically speaking, taxes should be levied on residents and ard refugees used as cannon fodder.
Yet taxing these refugees is practically forcing them to flee, isn’t it?
"They can’t run." Horn shook his head with a grim expression, "Jeska checked the nearby roads, almost all castle checkpoints are sealed, not allowing entry or exit without a Duke-issued certificate."
"Certainly, sothing unknown to us must have happened." Qianqian touched his smooth chin, "Tomorrow, I’ll go to Joan of Arc Castle to ask about the situation, maybe the subordinate officials misunderstood the Duke’s intention."
"I’ll go with you."
"You should stay at the camp." Qianqian shook his head, advising against it, "This way, should anything truly happen, there’ll be a backbone there."
"Do you think sothing will happen?" Horn’s eyes were more solemn than before.
Qianqian hesitated for a mont: "I’m not entirely sure, but I sense sothing isn’t right."
User Comments
0 comments from readers