Excessive Taxes, Wheat Yield Manipulation, Tax Evasion (8)
Not long after, the trial of Marquis Geneva was convened.
As the man who had hauled him before the bench, I was of course required to attend.
It came sooner than I had expected. Perhaps the court had shortened his temporary detention precisely because he was a high-ranking noble. I had no particular complaint about the decision.
On the contrary, I welcomed it. Even the bread and soup being wasted on him in his cell felt like an extravagance I could no longer stomach.
Chief Albert spoke.
“Shall we go in, then.”
“Yes. After you, Chief.”
He was present as an observer for this trial. As chief of the 1st Division, he had said he wished to witness his newest subordinate’s first courtroom appearance with his own eyes.
Whether that was the official pretext or his genuine feeling, I could not say. I simply had no reason to refuse, and so I accepted.
Together we entered the courthouse. The atmosphere inside was rigidly tense. The corridors lay silent, and every person who passed us wore the same blank expression.
“Sir Caenderic.”
“Yes, Chief.”
“Did you settle the matter with the judge?”
“Yes. I resolved it by the most peaceful means available.”
“I see. Well done.”
When I had gone to meet Schurtken, I had reported to the chief only that I was stepping out. The fact that he already knew what I had done meant he understood precisely how this case was unfolding.
Unlike me, who had drawn on memories of a previous life to uncover the connection between marquis and judge—he had reached the same conclusion through pure ability alone.
That, in turn, meant he was competent. He might yet prove a considerable asset in setting the Empire to rights… so long as he kept his integrity intact.
Shortly thereafter, the trial of Marquis Geneva began.
The marquis stood in the center of the courtroom with both hands bound. The judge assigned to the case, Schurtken, spoke.
“In the name of the law and of the Empire, this trial shall now commence.”
I felt the air in the chamber settle. The silence was so absolute that even the sound of someone swallowing became unnaturally loud.
“Caenderic de Lichtenhaus, recite the crimes committed by Galacia de Geneva.”
“Under the preposterous pretext that the Imperial House had raised taxes, he levied excessive taxes upon the peasantry. In so doing he damaged the Imperial reputation among the common folk—an act that constitutes clear treason. Furthermore…”
I laid out every crime Marquis Geneva had committed, omitting nothing: the excessive taxation, the falsification of wheat yields, the offloading of grain onto a neighboring count in order to evade taxes…
“…And lastly, during the investigation after he was summoned to the Inspectorate, he attempted to buy me off with a bribe. This is the evidence.”
I presented the judge with a luxurious box containing a crimson jewel, along with the documents proving it belonged to Marquis Geneva.
“Understood. It will be entered as reference material.”
“Yes. That is all.”
A considerable stir ran through the courtroom. Observers murmured among themselves in low voices. A few of them muttered that such things could hardly count as treason, that anyone might do as much. I memorized their faces carefully. They, too, were parasites gnawing at the Empire. One day they would stand on this same dock and answer for it.
“Observers will maintain order. We shall continue.”
Silence returned to the chamber. Once the judge confirmed it, he resumed.
“Galacia de Geneva, do you admit the facts stated by the inspector?”
“I—I do not—! Every one of them is a fabrication cooked up by that inspector, drunk on the power of House Lichtenhaus—!”
Yes. That was exactly what I needed to hear. Any lingering scrap of pity vanished on the spot. He was, without question, a man who had to be cut out of the Empire.
I would have liked nothing better than to take his head then and there, but I forced myself to remain coldly composed. Raising a disturbance in this place could ruin everything.
“Inspector, do you have evidence?”
“Yes. Evidence, and witnesses as well.”
“Submit the evidence and have the witnesses enter.”
I handed the prepared documents to the judge, then brought in the witnesses gathered for this day. First came Count Roth, who had been forced to accept the dumped wheat against his will; next, a peasant from a rural village who had paid the crushing taxes; then the village headman, himself still under temporary detention like the marquis—and finally, the head butler who had long served House Geneva.
“Wh-why are you here…?”
Apparently he had never imagined the butler would appear. Bewilderment spread across the marquis’s face. The butler merely glanced sidelong at his former master and continued walking. In all, four witnesses stood before the judge.
“Witnesses will give their testimony in order.”
At the judge’s word, they began to recount what they knew. Count Roth spoke first.
“Marquis Geneva foisted his harvested wheat upon me. Because of that, I was forced to pay unjust taxes.”
“Do you have evidence of this?”
“Yes. The inspector will already have presented it to Your Honor.”
I could hear the effort it cost him to keep his voice level. No one had longed for this moment more desperately than he. I could not fully grasp the weight of what he had endured, but I understood that it had been hard.
After examining the documents, the judge nodded.
“The next witness may speak.”
“I work in a small rural village within the Geneva Marquisate…”
The testimonies continued without pause. Until now, Marquis Geneva had no doubt believed that voices like theirs held no power. Perhaps that had once been true. No—it had been true.
The voice of a mere commoner could never have forced a marquis to pay for his crimes. The Empire, already rotten to the core, had always favored the powerful over right and wrong.
But from this day forward, that would change. It was the only path by which the Empire could survive.
“Very well. The witnesses’ testimonies are accepted as valid evidence.”
“What?! What is the meaning of—! Your Honor, do you truly intend to believe the words of such people?!”
“You appear not to grasp your own position. Be silent.”
“Th-this is absurd…”
The knight standing behind the marquis drew his sword halfway from its scabbard. It was a silent threat: cause no further disturbance in this court. The marquis had no choice but to close his mouth.
“I shall now deliver the verdict. Galacia de Geneva manipulated wheat yields in order to evade taxes, and foisting that burden upon another is no different from extorting property. Furthermore, by levying excessive taxes he made the lives of his people a misery, and in the process the honor of the great Imperial House was brought into disrepute—”
The marquis’s eyes flew wide. Bewilderment and fear warred across his face.
“This constitutes the crime of treason, and the sentence is death. In addition, the marquis’s title is hereby stripped, and all assets of his house are confiscated.”
“Just once—! Spare me just once—! If you only let me live, I will spend the rest of my days repenting—!”
“This court is adjourned.”
Compared with what he had done, the sentence was remarkably light. Ordinarily, treason meant death not only for the offender but for his entire bloodline. In his own way, Schurtken had shown the marquis a measure of consideration. Well, this was enough. Wanting more would simply be greed.
I inclined my head briefly to Schurtken and left the courtroom.
The day after the trial, posters went up on every street corner of the Imperial Capital.
New Inspector Caenderic de Lichtenhaus Rights Corruption—!
Galacia de Geneva, head of House Geneva, committed every manner of corruption and graft…
Something about the blood of Lichtenhaus, and so on. The posters praised what I had done while thoroughly vilifying Marquis Geneva. How had such information leaked so quickly?
Rumor truly traveled at astonishing speed. Perhaps it was the work of the rebel faction Lidia had once belonged to in my previous life. From their perspective, what I had done might have looked like a signal of change.
Speaking of which—what on earth was Lidia doing now? Surely she had not chosen to stand with them again in this life.
I pushed those worries aside and kept walking. Later, back in the offices of the 1st Division, I found Chief Albert. He took a sip from his teacup and said,
“I watched the trial yesterday. Clean work. Not a single loose end.”
“I’m glad it appeared that way. I take it your evaluation of me has ended favorably.”
“Evaluation? Forgive me if it came across that way. But I know myself well enough. I am not the sort of man who has the right to evaluate you.”
He gave a hollow little laugh. Looking at him, a thought suddenly crossed my mind: might he, too, have been one of the rebels? Of course I had no way to prove it, so it remained pure speculation.
A little more time passed, and evening fell. When I finished my work at the Inspectorate and returned home, the head butler handed me a letter.
It had arrived from my fiancée, Lidia.