Reincarnated As A Peasant - Book 1 Chapter 48: Paying Taxes

Landar

The damage at the Lord Collectors keep had not been repaired with nearly as much skill as the Temple complex had been. Though the destruction also hadn’t been nearly as complete here.

Portions of the outer wall were still missing bricks, being upheld with wooden scaffolding that looked to have been placed years ago. Some crafters still worked here and there repairing the damage slowly, while entire sections of unused walk ways along the top of the outer wall were left in ruin. Though the rubble and falling hazards had been cleared away.

The one part of the complex that was untouched was the keep itself. The main building where my father and pledged the southern gate guards to the effort to counter attack the Blue Priesthood, was as pristine, i still as dusty, as the day I had first set eyes on it.

Men and women of all kinds milled about in the court yard waiting for entry into the keep. Most were peasants like us, or servants of high nobility that were sent with official declarations and receipts showing their house had paid their taxes to the ducal court.

Hovering around the outskirts of the courtyard were around a dozen or so members of the Lord Collectors guards. Men and women, former adventurers as far as I knew that radiated confidence and authority.

At one point there was a minor scuffle when knight in full armor cut in line in front of several peasants and craftsmen behind us. The traders were being rather vocal about their displeasure, and the knight had resorted to drawing steel.

One of the collectors guards was there in an instant. A wand glowing with a menacing red light in one hand, and a dagger in another. The woman smiled a wicked smile. “Is there a problem gentlemen?”

The knight bristled. “None that I can’t resolve. A little bit of disrespect for one of a higher station is all. Your aid is not required.” The knight dismissed her with a wave of his hand, and the woman’s grin only got wider.

“Farmer, we might need to get out of here quickly,” I whispered and the older man turned to see what I was looking at. He chuckled lightly.

“I wouldn’t be worried lad. The Auditors know how to keep order.”

As if him finishing his description was some kind of signal, the woman let loose her spell, sending the knight sprawling. Quicker then I could follow she lept atop him, straddling his armored form and pressing the red glowing dagger against his throat.

She whispered something to the knight I couldn’t here, but then she lifted her voice. “Let this be a lesson to everyone here, high born or low. Free and bound. Everyone’s coin is equal on tax day, and so are they equally vulnerable to my blade! Treat everyone with respect, don’t cause trouble, and trouble will not find you. Break this understanding . . .”

The Collector pushed her dagger down and I heard a harsh girgle followed by a distinct metal, Thunk!

“I’ve not killed you boy. But piss me off again, and I’ll do worse.” She stood, and the man’s helmet was held in one hand like a trophy. The strap was cut by her blade. A few moments later the knight stood, rubbing his throat where she had struck him. “Understood?” She pointed her want back in his direction and he nodded. Then returned to the back of the line where he had previously been.

Got it, no cuts. I thought as I fought a smile crossing my face.

“Everyone is equal, on tax day.” Farmer said, laughter in his voice.

We slowly moved up as the day wore on. Merchants and food sellers plied their trade among those who were waiting, offering food and drink to anyone at surprisingly reasonable prices. When I asked Farmer about why they hadn’t hiked their prices sky high like any enterprising merchant would given a captive audience, he explained.

“They do a bit, the prices here are on the higher end of reasonable for decent food. But the Duke pays them to keep them from price gouging. At one point they tried to mandate it, but then merchants just stopped showing up. Not worth it to be working under the scrutinizing gaze of the likes of the auditors for the same price you’d get in the day market. So the duke started giving them coin to show up, and coin again to keep their prices reasonable.”

The duke sounds like a decently intelligent ruler, I thought. But then I realized it was to his benefit. If people waiting in line had to leave that line and venture into the city for food or drink, it was likely they’d be robbed far away from the scrutinizing and deadly gaze of the auditors. Keeping everyone here on the other hand, meant the duke could ensure his taxes were safe.

Shrude is probably the right word, I thought as we grew close to the front of the line to get into the keep.

A man in a dignified robe that I would have pegged as some kind of servant walked up to us with a notepad. “Hello Goodmen. I am Shenoshal Est. Once you are inside the keep, you will be given a number. You are then free to mingle with the others around the keep until your number is called. The time should also be written on your number card. Please be ready at least five minutes before that time, so that we can keep things moving smoothly inside the court.”

“Yes sir,” Farmer said, tipping his hat to the man. The Shenoshal smiled curtly.

“Do you need instruction on how to act inside the courtroom?” The studious servant asked.

“I’ve been here almost as many years as my life sir. I think I’m alright. But my boy here might need a refresher.”

“Yes, well. Its rather simple. Don’t say anything unless instructed to. Once inside the court, take three steps in and wait for the doors to close behind you. Then bow, and walk up to where the guards are standing near the base of the stairs that lead up to the throne. Kneel, and offer your number. They’ll ask you questions, answer them honestly. The Duke will then offer you a minor boon. Do not annoy the duke with your request. I’ve seen men killed for asking the wrong boon. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “I think I got it. Thank you sir.”

Est nodded, and moved down the line to the next person repeating much the same questions and offering the same instructions as he had given to us. Eventually we found ourselves at the front. The guards took the wagon off to one side, and opened the doors for us to enter. Servants much like Est descended on the bags of gold and in-kind taxes taking careful note of everything, while the guards escorted us inside.

The doors slammed shut behind us, and we found ourselves in a large open foyer. People mingled, talked, chatted, drank and ate from the foot and water some servants were handing out to those waiting. One came up to us and handed Farmer a paper, and both of us small glasses of pure water.

“Please stay on this first floor. The rest of the keep is still under renovations and might not be safe.”

“Thank you,” Farmer said to the woman, as she retreated back into the crowed. “Come on boy, let’s find a place to wait.”

We found a place a few rooms away that was quiet, and allowed us to sit against the cool stone of the keep. The day had been a hot one, despite the onset of winter and the fact some snow had clung to the ground. “Looks like we’re number seventy six. We have about an hour to wait, according to the paper.”

We chatted quietly for a little while, before farmer covered his face with his hat, leaned back in his chair, and started to drift off into a nap.

I grew bored and decided to explore the first floor where we were given permission to be. I found a small library, really just a few small bookshelves in one of the sitting rooms, and began perusing the books. Most were books I had read, or where of not interest to me. Basic information on magical theory, or mana manipulation. Or worse, romance novels.

I held one of the larger books in my hands, trying to decide from the sparse leather cover alone if I dared to open it. I didn’t want to be suprised by another totally implausible sex scene involving a dragon, a mermaid, and a surprisingly plain, yet somehow wonderfully beautiful milk maid. Who was simultaneously the beloved bastard daughter of a high noble, while also being a lowly peasant stricken with poverty.

I sighed, and opened the book. “Gah,” yup. Dragon – milkmaid – knight having a little fun in a hayloft . . . in the middle of the nation’s capital.

“Bit into romance are you?” A male voice came from behind me. I turned and found a smirking knight in slightly glowing blue armor. “Odd to find a peasant so well read.”

I froze for a moment, I knew that face. I had seen it in my nightmares the last five years. I had seen it first hand walk through a pillar of light from somewhere else and step into Vlane.

“Commander Militant,” I bowed awkwardly as my voice cracked. Puberty was awkward.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh, you know of me?” I nodded. “Well I find myself in the presence of a true oddity. A well read peasant, who doesn’t approve of the works of Master Penman Sloss, whom the queen herself enjoys very much. Or so I hear, from very good authority, but still. Only rumors.”

My hand twitched towards my ax as my eyes tinged with rage. I covered it with an even deeper bow.

“No need to be so formal, boy.” He winked at me pleasantly. “Its tax day. All men are equal on tax day, after all.”

“Yes, thank you Commander.”

He sighed and walked up next to me and began reading the titles of the books on the shelves along with me. “Commander no longer, I’m afraid. No. After that unpleasantness a few years ago my men and me ended up staying here in Vlane. Oh, but you might not know much of that. You’re from outside the city, right?”

I nodded. “Yes. But, news travels fast. I heard the fighting was . . . intense. Many people died.”

The former commander nodded sadly as his expression fell. “Yes. And just before the war march too.” He shook his head. “It was a waste. Luckily, me and my men were able to help put an end to that confusion, and got things sorted out.”

Sorted out?! The image of him standing over my father, his sword raised, threatening my and my mothers lives, filled my vision and I nearly acted. I only stopped myself by biting my cheek until I tasted copper. Bastard.

The bag that hung at my waste seemed to hum with its intended purpose. One of my many targets on my very long list of people to visit violence upon, was standing right next to me. The items inside had been made specifically for this very moment. To even the playing field enough, that I could take my vengeance.

But not yet, I thought as I listened to the man blather on. I had missed much of what he had just said as I refocused on his words.

“-So we stayed. The High Priest imprisoned and sent to the capital for ecclesiastical trial as a traitor to the realm, and well. . . the rest is history really.”

So Sigvald is gone? That’s one potential alley off the chess board. My already short list of allies is getting shorter.

“But it isn’t all bad. I even found a bride for myself here in Vlane. A beautiful lass. She’s a solid spell caster, is a member of the Blue like I am which is always a plus in my book. Spell caster and non spell caster relationships tend to suffer from an . . . imbalance at their core. But listen to me blather on to a stranger.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose I’m just nervus.”

“What do you have to be nervous about?” I asked, legitimately curious as to what could cause someone so physically, magically, and politically powerful to sweat. Perhaps I could find a weakness.

“My beautiful bride, she’s with child. We’ve been looking for names actually. It’s why I came in here. The Lord Collector said his family kept a list of popular baby names here.”

It’s probably not Tabitha. But . . . but it could be.

“What is your wife’s name? If I might ask, sir?”

He gave me a curious look, smiled, and went back to scanning the books. “Tab-”

I heard a wolf howl in my ears, winter’s chill rose up from inside me, and the overwhelming instinct to kill someone who threatened my pack, no, my family, colored my vision red. I growled, ice formed on the windows and bookshelf, as I felt the creature who had given me my core all those years ago rise up to join its will with my own.

In that moment, for the first time since assimilating the core I felt the spirit of the she-wolf alive within me. Within my ax, and resonating within my very soul.

My ax was in my hand before I could stop myself, coated in ice, imbued with more mana then I had ever pushed into Imbued Strike before, and held by muscles that were far stronger then they had been all those years ago.

One of us was going to die today.

And I was pretty damn sure it wouldn’t be me.