Chapter 205
Chapter 205
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 205
Chapter Title: Rolling the Cartwheel
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“Lieutenant General Jaeger has brought the cartwheel! It means he's going to wipe out every last one of those traitor bastards!”
“I knew that damn Ishtaven would drag us good folk down with him. But the general's making it clear he'll distinguish between us and those scum. As expected of Lieutenant General Jaeger!”
“It gets my blood boiling. Back in the day, when we caught traitors who'd betrayed their allies, we'd roll that wheel nice and slow—kill off anyone taller than it, and enslave the runts.”
Anya had told me that among the Northerners, after conquering a tribe that betrayed their trust, they'd gather all the surviving men from that traitor tribe and line them up next to the cartwheel.
Then, just like the Mongols did, they'd kill everyone taller than the wheel and enslave the shorter ones for life.
That's why rolling the cartwheel by the chieftain or warlord symbolized conquest and vengeance—or so I'd heard. But to think they'd react this intensely. Wow.
“I've heard that you Northerners have a custom of rolling the cartwheel when punishing allied tribes that betray you after forging a pact. Isn't that right?”
The chieftains affirmed it with roars so loud I worried they'd tear their throats.
“The Empire has no such custom, but these are men who dared betray His Imperial Majesty's grace and abandon their fellow countrymen. I declare here that my will aligns with yours in rolling the cartwheel before them. So, after our Northern Army triumphs in this campaign, we'll drag out the surviving traitors and their kin, and roll the wheel right in front of them. No man taller than the cartwheel will survive. The boys shorter than it, along with their wives and daughters, will be made Imperial slaves to clear the land you'll cultivate.”
By rights, we'd round up the traitor clans, roll the wheel, and distribute the captured women, children, and shorter boys as slaves to everyone.
But do that, and you'd get complaints: too few prisoners relative to merit, why does that guy get more than me, and so on.
So no one gets slaves at all. If nobody gets any—not even them—the total dissatisfaction shrinks.
Because when you can't have something, at least you won't resent others for having it too.
Besides, even if slave ownership stays with the Empire, they'll be put to work clearing land for their tribes to farm. That should satisfy them well enough.
And sure enough, no one spoke up in opposition—or agreement—to my words.
Or rather, the way their eyes sparkled, they seemed to be eagerly awaiting talk of military service permits—the first step toward equal treatment with the Empire's nobles and citizens.
“It's practically approved already, but this summer, I'll request permission for your Northern youths to serve in the military just like Imperial citizens. That'll lighten your taxes and free you from those weekly corvée drafts. How does that sound?”
At those words, one chieftain in the crowd asked cautiously.
“That would be wonderful. But even when we lived nomadically up North, you had to give something to get something. So what will the Empire demand of us in return?”
“The same duties as Imperial citizens, serving His Imperial Majesty. Attend Mass at the cathedral every Sunday and serve three years in the Imperial Army like everyone else.”
“Just that, and we'll become Imperial citizens? You won't oppress us for not following Imperial culture and customs?”
From what I'd learned of Islam during the era when the Islamic Empire existed, persecuting other cultures just for being different was usually idiotic.
Because minorities know their numbers are small, so unless you oppress them harshly, they tend to stay loyal to the state they're part of.
As long as you don't touch their reverse scale—their 'unique culture'—Islam and Christianity could coexist reasonably well.
They tolerated the faith of Christians in Arabia, Egypt, and North Africa in exchange for the poll tax called jizya.
And they eagerly adopted Western medicine, science, philosophy, and more.
As a result, nations like the Ottoman Empire housed countless races with different cultures without endless problems.
“In exchange, once they're in the army, they'll need to converse somewhat with Imperial noble officers, NCOs, and soldiers, and understand what Imperial folk are like. Northern recruits will also get basic education on what it means to be Imperial citizens afterward.”
The chieftains all nodded in satisfaction and chimed in.
“Honestly, even I struggled at first because I couldn't read Imperial script—dealing with official documents and taxes was hell. Imagine how bad it was for tribesfolk.”
“Three years back in our village, we nearly overpaid taxes by 20% because we misread the notice. The administrator adjusted it, or we'd have been sunk.”
“If the young ones learn about the Empire, things'll get easier all around. Plus, doesn't the army make you smarter anyway?”
Joining the army grants the same tax benefits as other citizens, teaches basic arithmetic and literacy—it's practically school.
That's exactly what it was. Before compulsory elementary education, armies were the perfect tool for raising national literacy.
You had to teach illiterate rural serfs letters, basic math, and military rules to turn them into obedient soldiers.
That's why some historians credit standing armies and conscription as drivers of modernization.
And on top of that, His Imperial Majesty, the Crown Prince, and I had prepared a mild dose of nationalism, Imperial history, and pride to instill loyalty.
Thus, Northerners who passed through the army would live with dual identities: Northern nomad tribe and Imperial citizens of the Empire's North.
“So now, the Empire and the Northerners officially become one. Now, raise your glasses high and shout it with me. Cheers!”
At my words, every chieftain and officer thrust their glasses skyward and bellowed cheers.
Afterward, guided by the operations officer, I headed to where Ishtaven and the twenty chieftains who'd plotted to betray the Empire were huddled separately in the banquet hall.
Until moments ago, they'd been trembling at the thought of their treachery and whispering about the new Imperial perks promised.
“Fuck, if we'd known Lieutenant General Jaeger was coming, I'd have sprinkled salt the moment that Ishtaven showed up at my place.”
“Shut your trap. At least we sided with the Empire in the end. We're becoming Imperials just like them.”
“Taxes down, no more corvée—life'll be livable. Anyone got intel to sell? Rack up some merits.”
I approached, clapped one on the shoulder, and warned them.
“The Empire knows full well you colluded with Ishtaven. But you've come to your senses now—how heartwarming.”
The chieftains froze like stone at my words.
“Lucky for you. I nearly had to watch you and your families I hold so dear stand before the cartwheel. But you snapped out of it quick and ended up on the rolling side. Truly fortunate.”
“We had a momentary lapse in judgment, Commander. Give us a chance, and we'll atone with anything.”
I only meant to scare them a bit, to motivate the other chieftains.
Oh, not like some German or Soviet penal unit, forcing them to fight to the death or anything.
“When recruitment starts this summer, get your tribe's young men enlisting en masse. Enough to make the other chieftains jealous. Then, on the battlefield, encourage them to fight with no thought of survival. War with those Stockholm bastards is coming soon. Prove your loyalty there.”
“Of course, sir. We love war. And if it's for the Empire, we wouldn't mind dying.”
“Excellent attitude. I look forward to your proof of loyalty.”
Two months after the inauguration, we began conscripting Northerners, and just as I'd said, the twenty hesitant tribes had even fortysomethings claiming they were still youths to enlist.
The other tribes, not to be outdone, sent men in their mid-to-late thirties.
But by Imperial standards for fitness and age, I culled nearly a third of applicants, conscripting only the elite recruits-to-be.