Chapter 137 Listen up, country bumpkin
“Listen up, country bumpkin.”
Standing in front of the bright silver candlestick, the handsome young priest looked at the group of dissatisfied people in front of him with disdain. The clean one.
Most of the unclean ones were disheveled. Some were wearing pajamas with eye guano hanging from the corners of their eyes. Some even had injuries on their bodies and faces.
Just when Horn held the investiture ceremony, there was great joy.
In the City Hall of Fort Joan of Arc, an emergency meeting was being held.
Artisan representatives from various guilds, citizen representatives and city councilors were forced to attend.
The soldiers kicked open the door of their home, forcibly dragged them out of bed, stuffed them into a carriage, and arrived at the city hall.
Here, they did not see the familiar Casti, but Zanderbek, the newly appointed municipal secretary by the Duke.
The Municipal Secretary is actually the Duke's representative in the City Hall, and his authority goes far beyond the surface of his position.
Under the guidance of the servants, everyone took their seats one by one, and the light of the lights shone outside from the tic-tac-toe round window.
This night meeting attracted many nearby citizens who were still asleep. They opened the shutters of the attic and looked in the direction of the city hall.
Even the night watch guards on the street couldn't help but stop and look up, looking over there.
Citizens sat at long oak tables that have been passed down for a hundred years, with marble vaults above their heads and yellow and green Western carpets woven into the long river flag of Fort Joan of Arc under their feet.
On the six tall pillars, six statues of saints or angels are standing in the shrine, looking down at them.
At the front of the long table, Zanderbek, who spoke with a strong French accent, raised his chin proudly:
“I’ll say it again, listen up, country bumpkin.”
“ Starting tomorrow, a war tax will be levied to deal with possible threats."
"The commercial tax is one-sixth per yard of leather goods and ten per gallon of dye during customs clearance. ”
“The poll tax is 25 dinars per citizen, 10 dinars per armed peasant, and 5 dinars per public peasant.”
"There is a window tax of 5 dinars for each window in the city, 8 dinars for each stove, and 2 dinars for each refugee or laborer."
"Other than that Outside, all weapon shops in the city are closed, and all weapons are returned to the Duke's castle."
"The blacksmith shop is not allowed to make any weapons. If there are illegal weapons, the weapons will be taken back directly to the Duke."
It wasn’t until the new municipal secretary said these words that everyone present felt like they were waking up from a dream.
20 dinars per citizen is nothing to big businessmen, but it is an extremely high tax for ordinary citizens.
For big businessmen and workshop owners, the leather goods tax and dye tax are a thorn in their hearts.
Not to mention that the peasants and refugees in public records also have to pay tax, which is still 2 dinars. They can't afford to eat. Where do they get the dinars?
“This is unfair!” A citizen representative immediately protested, “We have already paid high commercial taxes and city redemption taxes this year!”
“If we have to pay such taxes We will even have to sell some of our assets.”
“We want to protest, we want to strike!” The representatives of the craftsmen’s guild stood up directly.
"An additional 2 dinars per person will be levied on the protest march!" Zanderbek sneered.
"How dare you do this? I can guarantee that if you do this, there will be no one on the dock." The citizen representatives threatened.
"Yes, Mr. Priest, you can wait and see. Even if Joan of Arc comes, you won't be able to call them out, I said so!"
"You can try. Zanderbek glared at the citizen representative, "Joan of Arc can't cry out, see if the sword can cry out!"
"But there was a big flood before and the roads were damaged. There weren't many this year." Profitable, food prices have skyrocketed, where can we get this money? ”
"Borrow, steal, mortgage, sell ditches." Zanderbek said coldly, "I don't care where your money comes from, I only care about collecting taxes."
"Then at least you Tell us what kind of war it is!”
“You idiots, can’t you see what’s going on in the Thousand River Valley?
The Norns are coming, the Leians are coming, How did Prince Condai with his imperial company treat Xiaochi City, forget it?
The workshops of Xiaochi City were closed, the city councilors were hanged, and the citizens were bankrupt, and they were bankrupt in ten years. , unable to recover in twenty years.”
"We have already paid other taxes, which include taxes to protect us."
"Then if war comes, who will make up for the missing military expenditure?" Zanderbei clenched his right hand and said Ke hammered the table so hard that even the vase on the table was knocked over.
“If you don’t pay the war tax, then I ask you, are you willing to pick up the spear, prepare your own weapons, and follow the Duke to the battlefield?”
The petals crawled on the table with the clear water. , dripping into the ground along the ancient wood grains and cracks.
The originally noisy discussion hall fell into silence. Both the city councilors and the guild representatives lowered their heads in Zanderbek's eyes.
"I would like to advise you, you think that today's wealth is earned by yourself.
But don't forget, without the duke's force to deter you, you would have been defeated by bandits, robber knights, mercenaries and even the church. Or the nobles nearby have looted it countless times.
In my hometown of Huaqiu City, there is a wise saying that I give to you - if you are being taken care of, don’t talk about freedom and independence!” “But...”
Seeing that several citizen representatives were still unconvinced, Zanderbek knocked on the table impatiently: "I don't want to debate with you, debate with you vulgar people. Losing my dignity.
You stay here, think about me and yourself, and give you one night. ”
Ignoring the comments of the citizens, Zanderbek walked directly out of the meeting hall of the city hall. The two accompanying mercenaries immediately crossed their swords with long-handled axes and sealed the door.
…………
The wind in November is colder than in the past.
The fiery red maple leaves fall on Horn’s shoulders, exuding a faint fragrance of trees.
Raising his head, Horn took a close look at Duke Dardenne's castle for the first time.
It is located next to this small canal. An artificial earth platform was built, and the moat was dug out from the digging area around the earth platform.
The moat is two to three meters deep and about 8 meters wide. A suspension bridge is pulled by hinges and suspended above the river.
Going forward from here, you can still see the gatehouse sandwiched between the two towers. The grid-like iron door is lifted up on its hinges, and you can also see the servants and soldiers running back and forth inside.
Under the blue sky and white clouds, the castle looks like a giant beast with its bloody mouth open.
"Your Excellency Horn."
A servant who had met before trotted to Horn from the suspension bridge. He first glanced at Jeanne who was wearing a mask in fear, and then whispered :
"Your Excellency, the Duke fell into the water yesterday. After being treated by a doctor, he developed a low fever and became bedridden. You'd better come back tomorrow or the day after tomorrow."
Sick?
Horn suddenly had a headache. He didn’t get sick earlier or later, so why did he get sick at this time?
"Is the Duke really that ill? Can't even see outsiders?"
"Actually, it's not that serious. After drinking medicine last night, he could still order an emergency meeting." The attendant said helplessly. He smiled and said, "It's just that our hostess is too worried about his situation and won't allow him to mess around."
"Okay."
Anyway, there are still seven days, and Horn is not So anxious.
Get on your horse and walk back from the castle.
The street trees are still the same as before, but the atmosphere of Citizen Road is far less than before.
Under the protection of several soldiers, the priests and monks hired by the Duke knocked on the door door to door. They took money scales and balances and recorded names on hemp paper with quills.
In the attic, citizens or their families gritted their teeth and stared at the priests and soldiers who were transporting taxes.
Bags of gold and silver coins were put into cloth bags and wooden boxes, and under the supervision of soldiers, they were transported towards Horn's origin - the castle of Fort Joan of Arc.
The decree was passed this morning, and the citizen representatives did not have the power or force to oppose it.
Rather than tearing apart the face, it is better to retain some warmth.
These taxes on Citizen Road are quite civilized.
In the craftsman district next door, the situation was different. Across the canal across the Fort Joan of Arc, Horn could see the smoke rising across the river.
Labourers and craftsmen erected fences and mounds of earth at important intersections in an attempt to block the courtiers who were collecting taxes.
Soldiers had to hold up their shields as refugees hurled rocks, mud and even steaming shit at them while hiding on roofs of houses or in alleys.
But this did not stop the soldiers from breaking down the doors of the houses one by one.
They rushed in, rummaging through the boxes and cabinets in an almost robbery-like manner amidst the cries of the owner of the house.
If there is a good-looking girl or woman, at least she will be taken advantage of, and at worst it will be something that cannot be said.
Many of the priests, monks or petty officials who were hired to collect taxes had bruises on their noses and faces, and were covered in dust.
As soon as they were alone, laborers and homeless people would swarm him, put a cloth bag over his head, and beat him violently.
Fortunately, both the soldiers and workers were very measured and no lives were lost.
This may be a form of protest by workers.
Returning to the camp from Castle Joan of Arc on horseback, Horn arrived at the door and saw a group of mercenary cavalry galloping away.
Dismounted, an embarrassed Armand ran from the door and talked to Horn in a low voice.
“Huh? Do we have to pay too?”
Horn's eyes widened.
(End of this chapter)