Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 342

Chapter 342: Arrival of August Chapter 342: Arrival of August The arrival of August marked a time of universal anticipation, one of the rare occasions when nobles and commoners-two groups divided by every conceivable aspect of life-shared a common joy.

To the peasantry, who toiled tirelessly in the soil, August was the reward for their labor, the culmination of months spent sowing and tending to the fields.

It was the season of the great harvest, the moment when the golden bounty of the earth, grain, would be gathered to sustain their families and communities through the year.

For the nobles, however, August was a season of prosperity of a different sort.

While the peasants rejoiced in their hard-earned yield, their lords relished the wealth it brought.

With the stroke of a quill and the weight of ancient laws, the fruits of others’ labor flowed steadily into their coffers.

Their entitlement to the harvest-typically set at 25–30%, which usually changed between lordship and lordship, represented a steady stream of grain or its worth in coin.

To the nobility, this was no mere transaction; it was a reaffirmation of their status and privilege which were gods’ given, dressed up in justifications that made their parasitic lifestyle seem not only natural but worthy of admiration.

Thus, while nobles and peasants might differ as vastly as two species of men, August united them in a fleeting harmony.

One celebrated the yield of their toil; the other rejoiced in the wealth it bestowed upon them.  Even so, there was one exception that set a different tone between lord and monarch in this case: the lands directly owned by the crown had much lighter taxation.

Here, the taxation of the harvest was capped at 15%.

This policy endeared the throne to its tenants, as it allowed them to keep more of their grain to store for leaner times or to sell in town markets without fear of starvation should the following year prove less bountiful.

There were two primary methods of taxation: one paid in kind and the other in coin.

Nobles often favored coin-based taxation for its practicality in financing wars.

Unlike grain, which required the extra step of selling to be converted into usable funds, coinage could be spent immediately.

However, both methods came with their own drawbacks.

Taxation in coin placed a significant burden on villagers, who were forced to sell their goods to raise the necessary money.

This desperation created an imbalance, as merchants, fully aware of the villagers’ plight, would exploit the situation by purchasing their products at prices far below the market value.  Furthermore, coin taxes presented an enticing opportunity for corruption; unscrupulous tax collectors could easily skim off more than they were entitled to, as coins were simple to conceal and immensely profitable.

On the other hand, taxation in kind-primarily through grain-offered its own challenges but was less prone to corruption.

Grain was cumbersome to steal and far less lucrative for those looking to pilfer.

For Alpheo, the choice was clear.

The crown’s wealth flowed abundantly from trade monopolies, providing all the coinage he required.

What he truly needed was grain.A decision that also earned him the favor of the peasants living on the crown’s lands.

For the peasantry, this system meant they could keep more of their coin and avoid the predatory practices of merchants.

Grain taxes, cumbersome though they might be, were a tangible and predictable burden, far preferable to the financial devastation wrought by coin-based levies.

Of course , the lighter taxation imposed by the crown wasn’t simply because the princess was generous and the nobles were greedy , as some in the peasantry might have assumed-particularly in lands recently transferred from noble to royal control, such as Arduronaven and Megioduroli.

The truth was more pragmatic and rooted in economic status .

While the nobles’ wealth was primarily tied to agriculture, leaving them reliant on ever-higher taxes to sustain their coffers, the crown’s economy thrived on its monopoly over trade.

For Alpheo, agriculture was less a source of silver and more a supplement for his plans  This distinction gave the crown a significant advantage.

Unlike the nobles, who saw no alternative to squeezing their peasants for revenue, the royal treasury swelled with silver from control over key trade goods and lucrative markets.

This disparity was not lost on the nobility, who watched enviously as the crown’s wealth grew with apparent ease.

Many lords dreamed of securing a piece of that profitable monopoly, their ambitions stoked by visions of silver flowing into their own coffers.

Yet, these dreams remained just that-dreams.

Alpheo’s recent military successes had proven time and again that the crown wasn’t that weak thing under Arkawatt .

The prince was undefeated on the battlefield, a fact that had sobered even the most ambitious of lords.

They understood that any rebellion aimed at wresting control of the crown’s monopoly would likely end in disaster.

After all, Alpheo had demonstrated the ability to raise an army of 1,300 men without their aid, something that succeeded in putting their foolish ambitions to rest.

Of course, no one in the realm greeted the arrival of August with more enthusiasm than the prince himself.

Sitting in his grand study, surrounded by shelves of books and maps, Alpheo hummed a jaunty tune under his breath as he leafed through a fresh report from his ministers in charge of taxation.

“Grain, grain, grain, it feeds the men, it fills the purse, From field to barn, the kingdom’s nurse!” The parchment, marked with tidy rows of figures and neatly inked seals, detailed the total number of bushels collected from the year’s grain taxation-a treasure trove that promised to swell the royal coffers.

”Grain, grain, grain, golden and fine, Nothing better than it, on this land of mine!” He tapped his fingers in rhythm against the edge of the oak table, his mood buoyed by the figures in front of him.

The scribes had outdone themselves this year in presenting the data-clear, efficient, and pleasing to the eye, just like the harvest itself.

Alpheo’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as he traced the numbers with his finger, envisioning the bounty flowing from the countryside into the granaries and royal storehouses.

Yes, this was his favorite time of the year, especially this one.

“Grain, grain, wonderful grain, Fill my coffers, grow my domain-” “What in the world has possessed you?” Jasmine interrupted, looking up at her report, staring him down as if he were a child caught raiding the pantry.

“Are you a lovesick minstrel?” Alpheo looked up from the scroll in front of him, his grin as wide as the horizon.

“Oh, not at all.

In fact, I’ve never been more in my right mind.

It’s the simple joy of seeing the warehouses bursting with grain again.

I swear treating with those merchants to get those grains during the war was even more tiring than leading it, those greedy bastards even inflated the price…

” Jasmine raised an eyebrow, leaning against the desk with a smirk.

“This is still a new level of domestic bliss for you.

What’s next?

Poetry about turnips?” Alpheo waved his hand dismissively, his grin undimmed.

“Oh, don’t scoff, my dear.

These aren’t just idle dreams.

We have plans for all this grain this winter.” He leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head as though the kingdom’s future were already secure in his grasp.

“Plans?” Jasmine repeated, arching an eyebrow.

“You’ve shared plenty of plans with me, Alpheo-some in far greater detail than I ever asked for.

So which one are you rambling about this time?” Alpheo leaned forward, his expression growing earnest.

“The expansion of the crown’s lands,” he began, gesturing with his hands to emphasize the scope of his vision.

“Right now, the amount of fertile land under cultivation is just a fraction of what we could be using.

The potential is enormous.

The problem is people-we don’t have enough peasants to establish new villages or work those fields.

But there’s a solution.” Jasmine folded her arms, a mixture of skepticism and curiosity playing on her face.

“Go on,” she said, clearly indulging him.

“We’ll bring in new settlers,” Alpheo continued.

“People willing to work the land.

Of course, simply throwing open the gates and inviting everyone would be a disaster-we’d end up with famine and chaos.

That’s where this grain comes in.

With these stockpiles, we can feed them until they’re self-sufficient, long enough for them to cultivate the fields and start producing their own harvests.

Once they do, the flow of grain into our warehouses will increase dramatically.

And more grain means more resources-more wealth for the crown, more supplies for trade, and,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “more soldiers we can raise to defend it all in case one of our neighbors tries to get smart on us.” Jasmine narrowed her eyes at Alpheo, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, I remember you talking about it to me before, yet it was just a general idea the one you showed me.

For example, where exactly do you plan to find these people?” she asked sharply.

“I trust you’re not thinking of snatching them from the vassal lords.

That would spark a rebellion faster than you could say harvest, those are after all their property.” Alpheo laughed, waving her concern away with a flourish of his hand.

“Do you take me for a fool, Jasmine?

I have no intention of undermining the nobles-at least, not like that for now.” He winked mischievously, then continued.

“No, I want people to come of their own free will.

Besides, there’s no shortage of desperate souls willing to trade their old lives for a chance at something better, maybe not here but in other places there are.” Jasmine raised an eyebrow.

“And where, exactly, are these desperate souls going to come from?” Alpheo leaned forward, his grin widening.

” I didn’t spend a fortune developing our navy just to toss silver into the sea for fun.

From now on, our interests are moving beyond these shores-to the other continent across the sea.” Jasmine’s expression froze as she processed his words.

Her eyes narrowed, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.

“The other continent?” she echoed, her tone tinged with incredulity.

” Have you lost your mind?

You want us to treat with those heretics in Azania?” Alpheo leaned back in his chair, his smile never faltering as he raised his eyebrows at her.

”Oh please I am not a fool….what could I possibly get from reaching out to the only nation able to rival the empire?Apart from the uselessness of it , If I was discovered it was certainly sour our relations with our big neighbor in the north, something that I don’t plan on doing yet.

Instead we will be taking a cut from Romelian history and have some foederati of our own…”