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The Butcher of Gadobhra - Chapter 205

Published at 12th of February 2024 06:07:37 AM


Chapter 205: We have concerns

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Chapter 205: We have concerns

Normally, it was good to be the Duke of the North. Some nobles complained of the responsibilities, but usually, Carl enjoyed the work. But not on Petition Day.

On this day, all worthy people of the rank of Knight or higher could bring a petition to the duke for consideration. If your social status wasn't high enough, you could petition through a guild, a member of your church, or find another person to sponsor your petition. Often these people would be accompanied by witnesses, lawyers, relatives and friends, and other nobles who were also wishing for such a petition to be passed. Rarely could the duke rule immediately upon these petitions, and they would be put into a growing stack of other petitions that the duke had until the next Petition Day to investigate and make a decision.

Carl whispered to his chamberlain, "How many more to go?" His chamberlain scanned the list. "Just three..."

"Oh, excellent."

"...before your dinner break, then we have another 37 after that."

Some days it really didn't pay to be Duke of the North. Carl Greywolf had inherited the position of Duke upon the death of his father, cutting short his care free lifestyle as a bachelor and ending his time roaming his father's lands and smiting his foes along with a company of his knights. Withing a year he was married. It was a political marriage, but he had known and liked Claudia since they were in their teens. He had enough clout that he could at least choose from several daughters of the nobility.

Many people were surprised that he asked Claudia to be his wife. She was an inch taller than he and could beat him in a duel with both great hammer and lance. They'd met first as squires, where she knocked him off his feet and gave him a black eye. Later, after she was knighted, Claudia had ridden with the knightly company. One night she had knocked him off his feet and dragged him to her tent. They had had an on-again, off-again love affair going for years at the time his father passed away.

His father's advisors had been aghast when he added her name to the list of possible brides. They considered her willful, head strong, and prone to having her own opinions. Of course, this was exactly why Carl wanted her beside him on the ducal thrones.

Claudia also had a head for numbers and quite a few 'advisors' and relatives left the city before she got a look at the account books for the Dukedom. Things had run more smoothly after that, with far fewer shortages in the duke’s coffers.

"Tell me, Geoffrey, how many of those 40 odd petitions am I going to just say 'Piss Off' to?" His chamberlain handed him the 'Piss Off' list. It would be impolite to say that to anyone, but the flowery words amounted to that.This chapter was first shared on the Ñøv€lß1n platform.

"The farmers coalition complains of gophers and wishes a one silver piece bounty placed on the rodents. We sent an inquisitor disguised as a Rat Catcher to check on things. There is no problem, they just want the bounty so they can make extra money when things are slow, and several are even raising gophers in cages."

Carl sighed. Farming wasn't easy, but this was downright fraud. "Tell them no, and impose a tax on gopher farming."

"The wheelwrights union wishes a moratorium on road repairs, and the money shifted into new road construction."

"That's another no. They don't want the roads fixed because they'll sell less wheels if there are less potholes, and more bad roads means more potholes." Carl tapped his fingers idly. "What we need are better road builders."

The chamberlain flipped to the next page. "Interestingly enough, there is a report here of Baron William building roads within his lands that are superior to most of the roads in the capitol. He has completed 20 miles of roads from Gadobhra to Sedgewick and on to the Legion Fortress that ill replace Rowan Keep. He's even extended the road a few miles past that. The road builder’s union has a petition to present to you."

Ah, finally one that made sense. "Good, they wish to study his methods and adopt them?"

The chamberlain shook his head, sadly. "No, they wish you to stop him. They say he is usurping their right to build roads, and raising the expectations of merchants who are asking why all the roads can't be that good."

"Tell them to Piss Off. No flowery language involved. It's hard enough to get progress without stopping someone who does things right. Let me see the list please."

In the next five minutes Carl crossed off any petition similar to what he had denied the last month, (13), and several that were just nuisances designed to take up his time and keep him busy, (17). Some people delighted in that. That brought the list down to a manageable seven left to do. They worked through two more before dinner, and four after. The remaining one had been saved for last, when he could attend to it with a court cleared of spectators.

Claudia leaned forward. She had heard much of this before. "A familiar argument that is drug out every time the big farms want to increase control over their lands and serfs. Frankly, I think too many of those people are living miserable lives. They have to take in harvest after harvest with barely time for a festival each season. And most of the money doesn't stay with them."

Broadhat frowned. "You risk social upheaval ma'am.

Phargol stopped Broadhat from going further by stepping in front of the man and setting the sole of one his shoes on fire, causing him to hop around in panic. "Agreed, I don't think we need to rehash old problems, your graces, and we bow to your wisdom."

"What I would like to do is direct your gaze to this law, long on the books, but rarely used, that was a suggestion on how to balance the production of goods and raise money for the general welfare of the populace."

The Duke and Duchess looked at the law in question. "This is a tax? You would like us to tax farmers, and serfs who reach the second tier?"

"And contract workers, your grace. As you can see, our lawyers have looked at the wording and concluded that the law can cover them as well."

Duke Carl scowled. "Do you realize what is going to happen when every village that has gained experienced farmers is taxed suddenly? Farmer Broadhat, how many of your people are past the first tier?"

"Only 11 your grace, but I don't mind. Phargol has said they wouldn't be taxed. You have discretion over that."

Phargol winced, but nodded. "Poorly worded, but essentially true. The law allows for your interpretation of exactly which trades would be taxed. Partly why it was never implemented past being put on the books. But it does give a Duke the ability to levy a tax of 100 gold a year on Contract Workers in the second tier, and higher taxes on higher tiers."

Claudia liked the idea of more money to spend on projects around the Dukedom, but this seemed counterproductive. "Won't that simply negate the things we have deemed good? Not you lot, of course. But the Duke and I deem that plentiful food and good roads are a benefit."

"Ah, but that's just it, your grace. These corporations are making so much money, that they will gladly pay the tax. This gives you and the duke money to offset the side effects of corporate greed, and make sure things run correctly. Stipends for starving farmers and mages to produce mana become an easy thing with a new flow of taxes coming into your coffers."

The Duke and Duchess conferred for a few moments. "As much as this seems likely to enrage our new landowners, it may provide a good compromise. We'll think on it and confer with you in three days."

Carl and Claudia retired for the evening, and the plaintiffs filed out.

Broadhat barely waited until they were outside the castle gates. "That went well, but will they do it?"

Phargol nodded. "What nobleman doesn't like new gold? And we are old faces, known to him. He can play this off as taxing the rich and no one will really care."

Broadhat sneered. "Except the corporations. Especially Baron William."

Phargol nodded. "Yes, I don't see him being happy with his Duke. From our last reports, by years end he will have over 200 of his workers in the second tier, and some into the third tier. It's estimated that he will be hit for at least 30 thousand gold a year in taxes. He will not happy at all. He doesn't have a lot of money right now, what with the ongoing construction and the problems he's having."

"Problems?"

Phargol nodded and smiled. "Trust me, they should start happening right about now. Lots of problems."




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