Non-Humans and the Poll Tax (1)
“Uuuugh. My head….”
The instant Elena opened her eyes, the hangover she had been dreading crashed over her. She flailed weakly atop the bed.
As if on cue, the door swung open and the head maid stepped into the bedroom, a cup of water in hand.
“You’re awake, my lady.”
“Mmmmh….”
Elena sat up at once on the edge of the mattress, accepted the cup, and gulped down the cold water inside in greedy swallows.
“Perhaps it would be wiser to keep a little more distance from the bottle.”
“Why? Because it’s embarrassing in front of other people?”
“That is a concern for the head of the house. I speak only out of worry for your health, my lady.”
“Yes, yes. Of course you do.”
As if the hangover weren’t bad enough, she had to put up with lectures first thing in the morning. Elena stuck out her lower lip and shot the maid a sulky glare.
“What will you do about breakfast this morning? You haven’t attended in several weeks already, and the master—”
“Breakfast? I’m busy today.”
“Even so, I believe you really must attend today.”
“Why?”
Elena shoved herself upright to go wash, staggering as she started across the room. Her reply came out curt. The head maid slid smoothly into her path and spoke in a calm, even voice.
“Last night… do you not remember?”
“......!”
At the maid’s next words, the events of the previous night flashed through Elena’s mind in rapid, jagged fragments.
I don’t wanna do thiiis! Marry meee! That’s an ordeeer!
Whoa! For real?! Heheh! Dragon! Where’s the dragon!
Marriaaage! Let’s get maaarrieeed!
Oh, gods above—what in the world did I do…!
As the shattered memories surfaced one by one, Elena could only stare in horror before her legs gave out and she sank to the floor.
“N-no. Th-this is a dream. It’s a dream!”
“It is not a dream.”
“N-no! Tell me it isn’t! Please! Please!”
“Haa….”
Faced with the head maid’s pitying gaze, Elena clutched at her hair and whimpered. Then, as if things weren’t already bad enough, another image blazed across her mind—Rohan carrying her on his back out of the tavern.
Panic seized her. She grabbed desperately at the maid’s skirt.
“W-wait—when you said I should attend breakfast, you don’t mean….”
“Yes. Exactly what you are thinking.”
The confirmation finished her. Elena squeezed her eyes shut and drove her forehead into the floorboards.
Rohan had carried her home on his back while she was dead drunk.
And everyone had seen her like that.
I’m finished. Finished. Finished.
What am I supposed to do about this?
“My lady, is this because of the master… or because of the man you brought home as a marriage prospect?”
“M-marriage prospect?”
“This is serious. Not only did you ride in on that gentleman Rohan’s back last night shouting at the top of your lungs that you were going to marry him—loud enough to wake the capital—the moment you stepped inside the manor you latched onto the master and sobbed that he simply had to give his blessing….”
“D-don’t be ridiculous! I would never—!”
She was still shrieking her denials when a voice carried in from beyond the door.
“Ahem. Elena. You’re awake, I trust. There is something rather important I need to discuss with you….”
“Kyaaaaah!!”
At the sound of her father’s voice, Elena finally let out a full-throated scream and collapsed in a heap.
“Haa. This isn’t going to be easy.”
I let out a low sigh as I reviewed the detailed materials on the non-human races.
A poll tax was exactly what it sounded like—a tax levied per head. Before any real collection could begin, we had to establish who lived where, and with whom.
And yet…
I had never once imagined that so many non-humans lived both inside and outside the capital.
The variety of races was staggering as well.
Elves, dwarves, beastkin—even orcs.
Naturally, the paperwork that came with them was mountainous.
At this point I was starting to wonder whether it was even right to collect taxes from beings who weren’t human in the first place.
So the Minister didn’t dump this on me for no reason.
The more I thought about it, the more it seemed Elena had engineered the whole thing so the job would land on my desk. Playing drunk, spouting nonsense about marriage just to put me in an awkward position—maybe the entire performance had been designed to make sure I couldn’t refuse.
For all I know, even the drinking itself was part of the plan rather than an act.
A perfectly reasonable suspicion, but it wasn’t what mattered right now. I shoved the previous night’s encounter with the Minister out of my head and returned to the documents.
“Um… Special Tax Collector…?”
Across from me, Rhea had been leafing through papers of her own. She tilted her head and called out. I set down what I was reading and looked up. After a moment’s hesitation she rose and came over to my desk.
“I’ve been going through the materials the Tax Collection Bureau sent over, and there are a few things I don’t quite understand….”
Rhea fidgeted, watching my face, then laid several sheets stamped with the Bureau’s seal on my desk.
“These are receipts for taxes the non-humans have paid over the past several years.”
“They’ve been paying taxes?”
“Yes. But if you look closely, you’ll notice there isn’t a single receipt for the poll tax.”
“So they pay everything else without issue, and only the poll tax is missing?”
I narrowed my eyes. Rhea swallowed hard and simply nodded.
Well now. Look at that.
The very idea of “non-humans” was a catch-all category humans had invented for their own convenience—a word used to separate intelligent beings who were not human from those who were. A thoroughly human-centric term, if you wanted to put it that way.
Which meant the races lumped together under that label were as different from one another as oil and water. Culture, lifestyle, temperament—everything diverged.
And yet every last one of them had failed to pay only the poll tax?
Something was clearly wrong with the poll tax itself.
“Could they have felt the tax was unfair and decided on collective action?”
“Unfair….”
“Non-humans live in tribal societies, unlike us. When the poll tax is assessed, the entire tribe is treated as a single unit, so the amount due all at once becomes enormous. That builds resentment. The orcs especially have large populations….”
“It’s a plausible theory, but I don’t think that’s it.”
“I-I’m sorry!”
“No need to apologize.”
I had merely stated an opinion, yet Rhea snapped into a rigid posture and bowed her head as if she’d been dressed down. This wasn’t the military. Anyone watching would think I browbeat her on a daily basis.
I stared at her blankly for a second, then shifted my gaze back to the receipts and continued.
“I’m not saying your guess is wrong. Only that my own thinking runs a little differently.”
“Sir?! Wh-what do you mean…?”
“It does look as though the non-humans have coordinated their actions. But claiming they refused the poll tax out of a sense of unfairness doesn’t add up—not when these receipts are sitting right here as evidence.”
“Ah! You’re right! I wasn’t thinking far enough ahead.”
“My guess is that something went wrong during the actual collection of the poll tax.”
From the non-humans’ perspective, taxes had always been an unfair imposition. They weren’t human, after all. On top of that, they had their own hierarchies—chieftains, elders, and the like. Unlike human nobles, who enjoyed various exemptions, the law simply bundled every non-human race together under one label and forced them to pay every tax at the same rate as commoners.
Of course they harbored grievances against the tax system. Rhea’s theory wasn’t baseless.
But if that were the case, they should have stopped paying the other taxes as well.
Why single out the poll tax and default on that alone?
Well, strictly speaking, that’s not my problem….
I folded my arms and sank into thought.
The proper procedure would be to determine why the non-humans had resorted to collective action in the first place. That meant starting with a thorough internal audit of the Tax Collection Bureau to see whether anything had gone wrong during collection.
My goal, however, was to cause just enough chaos to stay inside the letter of the law.
To what end?
My resignation.
Bluntly put, this incident was a gift from the heavens. The imperial court was extremely sensitive about anything involving the non-human races. With the Kingdom Coalition already sitting outside the borders as an enemy, turning the non-humans into enemies as well and sparking internal strife would be a disaster with no way out.
There was a reason the Minister had handed this to me.
So if I carefully stayed within bounds and still managed to botch the whole affair?
This damned Special Tax Collector post would be passed to someone else.
“Rhea. Issue a summons to every racial representative on the list. A good number of them live outside the walls, so we’ll meet them outside this time.”
“Sir?! S-Special Tax Collector, if I may be so bold—isn’t this case no different from the Barton affair? If there was a problem during collection, shouldn’t we begin with an internal investigation first…?”
“Whatever their reasons, they still live on imperial soil, coexist with humans, and belong to the Empire. Collective action and tax delinquency of this sort cannot be tolerated.”
“B-but….”
“I don’t know whether you’re aware, but they enjoy freedom of residence and a certain degree of autonomy. They even have the option of leaving the Empire whenever they wish. Call it consideration from those in high places who would rather avoid conflict with them.”
“......”
“In other words, the non-humans who settled on imperial land chose to live here of their own free will. Each of them may have their own circumstances, but those are none of our concern. All we need to do is collect the back taxes they rightfully owe.”
At my explanation, Rhea’s shoulders slumped. In a tiny voice she answered, “Yes, sir.”
Honestly—when a superior takes the time to explain things this patiently, shouldn’t you be grateful? She was sharp at her work, but maybe the lack of real-world experience was the problem. One word from me and she wilted every time.
Haa. Nothing for it, I suppose.
“4th Grade Senior Secretariat Rhea. I have not the slightest doubt that you are an outstanding secretariat officer. So lift your chin, square your shoulders, and carry out your duties as a secretariat officer should.”
The moment I forced out a word of encouragement, Rhea’s face lit up and her back straightened like a rod.
“Yes sir! 4th Grade Senior Secretariat Rhea! I will give it my utmost!”
She even threw in a crisp military salute—where she had picked that up, I had no idea—then bolted out the door.
Looking at the way she carries herself, you’d think she was about to cause a disaster any second. So why won’t she just cause one already?
Rhea, please, just screw something up for once.
No—forget it. You go ahead and enjoy a long, stable civil-service career.
I’ll raise a little hell with our non-human friends this time and then resign.