Chapter 58 58: harvest time

------------------------------ If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know. Leave a comment; support is always appreciated. I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see. ------------------------------- Erntzeit 16th ,2488 IC "So, are we up to date with the work I ordered at the beginning of the year?" I asked while watching my tax collectors, who looked visibly nervous. "Yes, my lord," replied the youngest of the group. "We've parceled out the farms according to the measure you established. All the families in Reinsfeld, up to last month, are registered in the land registry. We know exactly when to begin collecting taxes for this harvest." "Also, according to the workers' reports, we have the exact amount each one earns recorded. Since you have the payrolls, we can easily determine what they owe in taxes, depending on your instructions," added another collector. "I see..." I murmured while reviewing the documents they had handed me. I immediately noticed they were printed in my own workshops. "I assume you got this from my stationery, right?" I asked, raising the papers. "Yes..." answered the youngest, though the others remained silent. "Good. Then I suppose the administrative costs should drop considerably. After all, producing paper costs me nothing..." I said, without taking my eyes off them. The tension in the room became palpable. "I asked my favorite servant to acquire certain specific books for me. I'm still waiting for the shipment of goats to arrive so I can work their leather and make my own volumes... But let's make one thing clear: here," I said, pointing to the notebooks I placed on the table, "you will record how much each of you collects, indicating the tax number assigned to each household. When a family pays, they will be given a valid receipt for the year, signed and sealed using this smaller ledger." I paused, noting that they were paying close attention. "When you're done, you'll hand over all the books to me, and I will personally review how much has actually entered the coffers. Also, you will give these other accounting books to all merchants and tradesmen who own property in Reinsfeld. In them, they must record all their income and expenses, and present them to me at the time of tax collection." I took the last of the books and placed it in the hands of the oldest collector. "This way I'll avoid anyone lying to me about their income. And remember well: tell the artisans that losing their hands over a few coins isn't worth it." I finished by handing over the records, in complete silence. "Any more questions, or are you just staring at my face?" I asked with irritation in my voice. "My lord... well... according to tradition, under your father... we had the right to one-fifteenth of everything collected as annual payment. My question is... how much will it be this year?" said the eldest of the collectors, somewhat uneasy. "Oh yes... let me see... Nothing." I placed my hands firmly on the table. "From now on, I'll pay you a fixed salary. Don't give me those faces. Ungrateful bastards... You'll still be well paid, but just so you don't feel irreplaceable: I only need to go to Altdorf, offer that same salary to anyone who can read, and I'll have dozens of applicants. And thanks to this system, your usual 'tactics' are no longer necessary to me." Their expressions twisted instantly. "And how much will that salary be?" asked the youngest, clearly afraid of the answer. "One crown a day... while the general tax collection lasts this month," I replied, crushing their hopes. "The rest of the year, just five shillings a day. Enough for you to keep working properly." They looked defeated. Clearly, they had thought about how to fill their pockets with taxes from the new merchants who had arrived in Reinsfeld since the population tripled. Perhaps they imagined charging 'special fees' to artisans, who with more orders were also getting richer. But their fantasies ended here. "So go do your job. And remember: I'm watching you. I don't want any 'irregularities'..." I smiled. "If that happens, there will be irregularities with your necks." With that meeting over, I had another place to visit—one that caught everyone's attention: the harvest fields, like almost everyone in town. Nearly all of Reinsfeld's life had moved there in the last month. Everyone was harvesting what they had been planting all year, hoping it was finally ready... and eager to pay me with a big smile. Feeding an army of over a thousand men isn't cheap. But unlike the others, I was one of the few in town who had serfs working the land for me. Although many farmers here are free men, not tied to the land, others are. And in the eyes of the law, they are my property. However, my visit wasn't to supervise them. There was something else I was interested in. On purpose, I had certain fields worked exactly like the local peasants did. No fertilizers, or steel tools. Just their traditional techniques. Entire hectares planted following the town's methods, without any improvements. Why? Because that gave me a perfect estimate of how much they had actually harvested. I had fields of wheat, barley, potatoes... almost everything grown in Reinsfeld was also present on my land. But unlike theirs, my fields were under strict observation and accounting. When they began harvesting, threshing, or digging up tubers, and the sacks piled up one after another, I had the exact weights. I could compare them to last year's figures. I knew exactly how much their fields had yielded. I'll probably become the most hated noble in the Empire when it comes to taxes. But few can surpass me in how relentless I am about making sure what's owed is paid. I'm also one of the few non-urban nobles who employs professional tax collectors instead of clumsy servants who collect once a year and pocket half of it. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. Either I make my formulas public, allow them to be copied, and lose my monopoly... or I keep everything under lock and key, constantly alternate between producing pigments and gunpowder, and preserve my advantage. And between both options, I will always prefer the monopoly.Because without competition, there is no threat. Out in the fields, I watched as my serfs worked to harvest all the grain and vegetables. With a moderately sized workforce, they finished within a few hours—very different from the free peasants, who were only just beginning their harvest. Then came the threshing of the grain and the cleaning of the vegetables, many still covered in dirt. Fortunately, manual threshers were common: the carpenter knew how to make them well. They only needed regular-sized stones set into wooden frames. You passed the wheat, barley, or oats through, and what remained were the grains. The straw was kept separately, useful for livestock or other functions in the village. All the grain was then bagged, separated by type, just like the vegetables. Then began the weighing, plot by plot. Wheat yielded just over a ton per hectare, which—compared to previous years—was a very good harvest. Barley and rye reached a ton and a half per hectare, also excellent results. Turnips exploded in yield: nearly 25 tons per hectare. No wonder it was so common to see entire fields of turnips—no one would starve, even if the taste left much to be desired. Potatoes came in at 13 tons per hectare, carrots at 15, and onions nearly 30. Legumes yielded just over one ton per hectare. As for cash crops, flax yielded one ton per hectare. We also tried to replicate some tricks from the farms of the Cult of Shallya by planting many healing herbs. But for some reason, everything went wrong. Almost the entire harvest rotted. Only about twenty kilograms of useful plants were salvaged, gathered from various fields. A total failure. These were the average yields per hectare. It wasn't a single sample: we used multiple fields in different zones to establish a reliable average. With that, the collectors would be given precise values so they could charge taxes with absolute certainty based on the harvest. This avoided clever peasants trying to hide part of the yield, not bringing it to the mill, or underreporting if they grew something other than wheat, which was easier to measure. It could be said without a doubt: this was a great harvest. There had been plenty of rain, but not so much as to drown the plants. This year would be excellent for income. But unlike previous years—when my father had to sell almost the entire harvest to merchants just to gather enough gold and keep the administration afloat—I had no such urgency. I had other sources of income besides horses. That gave me room to invest in new projects. And with winter approaching, I could expect a long period of stability and peace, where I could continue increasing production. Especially in what truly mattered: better food processing. So, very pleased with the results of this year—though I hope the next will be even better, as I plan to introduce tools, fertilizers, and new techniques to the peasants—I felt generous. Especially with the serfs, who received no pay for their work, as it was their duty to labor for me a few months each year as a form of tax. Before releasing them to harvest their own fields, I allowed them to take two sacks of whichever crop they chose. With such an abundant harvest, that meant the loss of only a tiny fraction of the total. When the news spread, I saw many smiles. I heard loud thanks—to Sigmar, to Taal, to Rhya, and even to Shallya. I mounted my horse and began the return to the village while my guards handled the organization and escort of the food transport back to Reinsfeld. I was considering experimenting with large-scale food preservation. I couldn't use cans, no matter how much I wanted to, but I could use glass jars. Though I still had to buy them from Schilderheim, as we didn't yet have a local glassblower. Perhaps I could hire one and also use him for another project: building a greenhouse. Being able to cultivate year-round would be, both logistically and militarily, one of the best investments I could make. Having a constant food supply—not subject to the seasons—would provide a freedom of movement that no other feudal lord would enjoy. While the Empire's peasants were bound to plow, sow, and harvest on strict schedules, I could wage military campaigns even in winter, knowing my people would remain supplied. And if I wanted to keep clearing the mountains of greenskins, inside or outside my domain, that would make the difference between a risky offensive and a planned victory. Given the excellent flax harvest, I wanted to see how the carpenter was progressing with my loom orders. I could soon start producing clothing—at least for military use—and standardize the garments worn by my soldiers under the armor I could provide. But as I approached the town, I noticed a crowd of peasants gathered outside the castle, while my guards were doing their best to contain them. "Oh shit," I muttered, reaching for my sword. ------------------------------ If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know. Leave a comment; support is always appreciated. I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see. -------------------------------