Volume I: Knight of the Forest Chapter 99: Negotiations

Upon entering the private suite of Baron Enshima, the local magistrate, on the second floor, Belion truly understood the meaning of the word "sumptuous." It was staggering that such a small dining area for a magistrate could be so incredibly extravagant.

The floor of the suite was covered in exquisite wool carpets imported from the Bacchus Principality, far to the east of the Vyrin Continent. After taking off his shoes and stepping onto them, one could feel a remarkable, soft comfort. One wall of the suite was draped with a wool tapestry embroidered with the Enshima family crest, while the other three walls were adorned with decorative items like deer antlers. Most startling of all was the wall facing the entrance, which featured a golden shield inlaid with various gemstones to form the family emblem of Baron Enshima.

Belion glanced around the suite, silently lamenting that this was indeed a magistrate of a wealthy region; the level of luxury was extraordinary, far surpassing that of Viscount Plum.

Shortly after Belion entered, Gamgee arrived. Gamgee himself held a title, his family was quite powerful, and he maintained business dealings with most of the people present. Upon his arrival, he was warmly welcomed by Baron Enshima, Sir Sandiman, and the young nobleman.

Once everyone was seated, introductions revealed that the young nobleman was a licensed tax farmer holding a royal warrant. His name was Olsan, the second son of a court viscount and a knight in his own right. He belonged to that class of upper-middle-class noble families in the kingdom of Brick who managed the family’s business interests.

Noticing Belion’s confusion regarding the term "tax farmer," Gamgee took the opportunity while they were visiting the restroom to provide a brief explanation.

Tax farmers were a special breed of merchants who specialized in managing estates and collecting taxes on behalf of nobles who were incompetent at handling their own lands. Naturally, these tax farmers were not benevolent figures; in the eyes of both the nobility and the commoners, they were absolute leeches. To the nobles, they skimmed at least thirty percent off the tax revenue annually, while to the common folk, they squeezed every possible penny, knowing that every coin saved for the crown was a coin added to their own pockets.

Because of this, they inflicted brutal and bloody punishments on any peasant who could not pay, who underreported their land yields or livestock numbers, or who dared to resist with force. Lords delegated their taxation authority and the power of life and death to these loathsome tax farmers, who exercised these powers to the extreme. They invented a vast array of taxes: a commoner began paying taxes from the moment they were conceived—a pregnancy tax, a birth tax, a nursing tax for infants... Marriages, funerals, and birthdays were all taxed, and even inheriting a parent’s estate was so heavily taxed that many simply chose to renounce their inheritance.

Beyond inventing these taxes, they constantly monitored the commoners, scraping for any excuse to levy fines. Gamgee shared a ludicrous story he had heard: a tax farmer's collector, unable to sleep one night, was wandering through a village and heard loud snoring coming from a house. After listening for a moment, the collector’s eyes lit up; he kicked down the door, dragged the family out of bed, and charged them a "snoring tax." This astounding discovery was actually promoted as a "best practice" in the region under that tax farmer’s jurisdiction, becoming a local laughingstock for a time.

Although Gamgee told it as a joke, Belion knew that the actions of these tax farmers were truly excessive, effectively squeezing the common people to their breaking point. When Belion asked why there was no popular resistance, Gamgee shook his head bitterly and explained, and then Belion understood.

These tax farmers were often of high noble birth with powerful backing, and they maintained private armies organized under the guise of mercenaries. When collectors went to villages, these mercenaries accompanied them; anyone who dared to resist met a grim end, and there were deaths caused by tax collectors every year. The villagers were furious but dared not speak out; they had no weapons and no leaders to organize them, leaving them helpless against these well-trained mercenaries.

Gamgee told Belion he had personally seen a village destroyed by mercenaries led by a tax collector; almost all the adult men were killed, and the women and children were sold into slavery. It was because of such tragic precedents that the farmers and serfs dared not resist.

However, Gamgee added that in the last two years, due to frequent floods and droughts, the peasants were barely surviving, yet the tax farmers continued their exploitation unabated. As a result, resistance was growing. Just at the beginning of this year, Gamgee had heard of several instances where small groups of mercenaries sent by tax farmers were surrounded and wiped out by enraged peasants.

Even so, the tax farmers failed to realize their own excessive exploitation was the cause. Instead, they blamed the lack of combat effectiveness of their mercenaries and began seeking out and recruiting fierce warriors to bolster their ranks.

At this point, Belion understood why they were pressuring Oromi to join them; the mercenaries they had on hand, who were only capable of bullying peasants, were no longer a match for the enraged and armed farmers. With this insight, Belion had a preliminary judgment of the situation, which would help him negotiate more effectively later. He knew that these men, accustomed to daily villainy, possessed no moral compass or sense of shame. They cared only for profit, so he would have to use tangible benefits to sway them.

When Belion and Gamgee returned to Baron Enshima’s suite, the meal had been reset. It seemed the Baron held him in some regard. After taking their seats and exchanging a few toasts to complete the formal pleasantries, Belion asked Lothair and Oromi to explain the situation, as he was still unclear about how they had become entangled with the tax farmer and ended up in debt.

The brothers and the mercenary squad leader under the tax farmer Olsan were not qualified to sit at the table; they stood to the side, watching the nobles eat and drink. When Belion prompted them, the two hesitated, exchanged glances, and let the elder brother, Lothair, tell the story.

Lothair had originally been a horse trader. Because his horses were high quality and his prices fair, Belion’s father, Baron Orie, had held a very high opinion of him. Almost every autumn, when Lothair passed through Frondo Town, Baron Orie would host him for a few days, both to see if there were any rare steeds and to listen to Lothair’s tales of his travels. Lothair, in turn, reciprocated by offering the Baron lower prices and gifting him a mule or two before leaving. When Belion was five, the Baron had even gifted him a pony and spent two years teaching him to ride—an experience that left a deep impression on Belion. Hearing Lothair’s name, he recognized the familiar face; he would not stand idly by while an old acquaintance suffered.

After several years of trading horses, as his band grew and the trade became less profitable, Lothair and his men began working as caravan guards and mercenaries. With over twenty men, all skilled riders and capable fighters, they were well-regarded. Within a few years, their side business had become their primary livelihood.

Last month, they accepted a job from the tax farmer Olsan, supposedly to escort a shipment of valuables. Upon arrival, however, they discovered the task was to attack a village that had been resisting the tax farmers. Being of humble origin, Lothair and his men, while afraid to offend Olsan, refused to act as accomplices to the slaughter of innocent villagers. They cited a breach of contract and left.

Olsan was furious. Once he calmed down, he decided that he would either force these warriors into his service or eliminate them. His motto was: "If you can't have it, destroy it." He demanded five times the contract price as a penalty for breach of contract, to be paid within half a month, or interest would be added. If they agreed to become his tax-collecting mercenaries, he would not only forgive the debt but pay them fifty dinars a week.

Lothair, a man of integrity, naturally ignored the venomous noble. Having grown up in a farming family, he knew the suffering of the peasants. He threw the letter aside.

What he didn't expect was that Olsan would approach Oromi, the third-in-command of their small group. Today, what Belion had witnessed was Oromi flipping the table after hearing the terms offered by Olsan’s envoy. Olsan had offered Oromi one thousand dinars to kill Lothair and defect with the rest of the men, with the added promise that Oromi’s children could become squires to Olsan’s court family, offering them a path to nobility.

It was a tempting offer—one most mercenary leaders would have accepted. In this world, a commoner’s child had almost no chance of becoming a knight’s squire unless they served a minor, impoverished knight like Belion. But Olsan had miscalculated.