Chapter 40
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: The Fake Baron
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This is the genuine article.
"Call for the baron, Your Excellency? This little brat... Fine. If that's your wish, I'll summon him."
The gatekeeper summoned his superior with puffed-up bravado. The fact that he could call for him suggested the man held a decent position after all.
The fellow who appeared was rotund. His belly led the way, with the rest of him trailing behind.
Typical build for a third-rate villain, I thought.
"What is it? Who called for me?"
His voice dripped with irritation.
The gatekeeper pointed at me.
"That kid over there. He demanded to see you, Your Excellency."
The fat man's gaze turned my way.
"A kid called me?"
Kuuruk's hand drifted toward his waist. I stopped him with a glance.
"You're the baron, right?"
"That's right. I'm Baron Baros, in charge of this district."
"Then where's your baronial crest?"
"What?"
"Nobles are supposed to have one. I don't see it."
The man's eyes narrowed.
"What does a kid like you know?"
"According to imperial law, title holders must wear their crest while performing official duties. Violators are punished for impersonation."
"What?"
"And lords can impose only up to fifteen new taxes at their discretion. Import duties on herbs aren't on the list."
"You little... "
"Oh, and one more thing."
I tilted my head.
"This is a county's territory. Not a barony. It's the count's direct holding. I haven't heard anything about him appointing a baron."
Silence fell.
The gatekeepers' eyes wavered.
They exchanged uneasy glances.
They probably had no idea.
That their "baron" was nothing but a self-proclaimed fraud.
The other merchants waiting for inspection began murmuring too.
"You. Where are you from?"
"I told you. A merchant from the North."
"A merchant reciting laws from memory?"
"Why not? I grew up in a house full of books."
A forced smile crept onto the man's face. It looked painfully artificial.
"Must be a misunderstanding. I've been busy lately."
"Misunderstanding?"
"Yeah. The herb import tax... It hasn't been implemented yet. The gatekeepers must've gotten confused."
The gatekeepers' faces twisted. They seemed about to protest but clamped their mouths shut.
"So here's what we'll do."
The man stepped closer. His voice dropped low.
"Ten silver coins. And I'll let you through clean."
Keeping up appearances in front of his men, I suppose.
But.
"I refuse."
"What?"
"No reason to pay an illegal levy."
The man's smile vanished.
"Hey."
His tone changed. The pretense was gone.
"Don't you get the situation here?"
"Situation?"
"This is my turf. You can spout all the laws you want—around here, my word is what counts."
With a gesture, the gatekeepers raised their spears and surrounded the carriage.
Even so, their expressions were hesitant.
"I'm seizing this carriage. Suspicion of smuggling."
"Smuggling?"
"Yeah. Trying to bring in unidentified herbs illegally. Evidence? I'll make it up."
Should I drop the family name?
Krushtein. That would hit like a hammer.
But I didn't want to escalate things that far.
"Bring the documents."
The escort knight fetched the document case.
"What's that?"
"See for yourself."
I opened the case.
Gold gleamed.
The man's eyes locked on. The imperial eagle crest engraved inside.
"This..."
"It's a record of dealings with the imperial house."
I pulled out the bill of lading and held it to the light. The imperial seal shone clearly.
"These herbs are bound for the palace. Levying illegal taxes on imperial goods? That's defrauding the throne itself, self-proclaimed baron."
The man's face drained of color. The flush fled in an instant. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came.
"Th-that..."
"What do you think the count would say if I reported this?"
"..."
"No, forget the count. What about the palace?"
In the end, things wrapped up smoothly.
The fake baron apologized profusely and even slipped us hush money.
I wasn't thrilled about it, but it wasn't my jurisdiction—and not even Krushtein lands.
"What a mess."
"Less a mess and more the norm."
The escort knight said curtly.
"In Krushtein territory, I travel openly with my status, so you don't get the full picture?"
"Something like that, sure. But you'll feel it on the road: Krushtein is exceptionally well-run."
"This isn't a vacation. It's business."
Tired of riding, I climbed into the carriage.
Scenery flowed past the window. It was worlds apart from Krushtein lands.
On horseback, I hadn't noticed, but the roads were noticeably poor. Potholes everywhere, the carriage jolting with every bump, cargo shifting inside.
"The roads are a disaster."
"No budget for repairs, probably. Or it's diverted elsewhere. You think that pig and his crew are the only ones?"
I nodded.
Taxes collected, roads neglected. The difference fills someone's pockets.
"How much longer do these awful roads go on?"
"All the way to the capital."
How much time passed like that? We finally reached the imperial capital.
A fifth of the shipment went to the palace as promised. I couldn't jack up the price any higher, but I couldn't break my word either.
Breaching trust with the palace is a long-term loss.
The official inspected the goods and let out a relieved sigh.
"You saved my skin, young master."
"You're too kind."
"No exaggeration."
His tone was dead serious.
"We'd have been in deep trouble without these herbs. The bosses were hounding me daily."
The palace folks use it often too, huh.
I swallowed the words before they escaped. One slip and it'd be lese-majeste.
"Glad we made it in time."
"Truly grateful. Looking forward to the next batch."
Once the paperwork was done, the official offered tea. Fragrant steam rose from the cup.
"First time in the capital, I hear. What do you think?"
"Road maintenance is on another level. Felt it coming in."
The official shrugged.
"The palace oversees it directly. Can't compare to the provinces. How's it stack up to Krushtein?"
Time for the diplomatic nod.
"Naturally, the capital's leagues ahead. Bigger in every way."
"Haha, kind words."
Diplomacy, not flattery.
"Take time to tour the capital if you can. Plenty to see."
After parting with the official, inside the carriage.
Kuuruk spoke first.
"The capital's impressive, no doubt. But honestly, those outskirts roads... not great."
"I noticed too."
The escort knight nodded.
"Perfect inside the gates, but stray a bit and it drops off a cliff. Ours seem better."
I didn't reply. Gazed out the window.
The 'capital' proper dwarfed anywhere in Krushtein.
Building scale. Population density. Commercial buzz. All overwhelming.
But include the outskirts...
Infrastructure exists, but maintenance lags.
Even the capital's fringes go neglected.
We arrived at the inn.
Is studying at the capital academy even worth it like this?
I kept it to myself.
"Will this country be okay?"
The escort knight muttered, peering out the window.
"Seems worse than last time I was here."
"Eh, His Majesty and his advisors will handle it."
I pulled documents from the luggage.
"Anyway, to business. We handed a fifth to the palace. Need to offload the remaining eighty percent."
"Same price as before?"
Kuuruk asked.
"No. Selling high. Supply's wrecked—market sets the price now. Stravb Mountain burned two months ago. Stocks are dry."
"How high?"
"Double at least. Triple if we negotiate well."
Next morning, we hit the capital's biggest herb dealer.
Shown to a reception room. Soon, the owner appeared.
Middle-aged man. Polite despite my youth.
"Heard you came from afar."
"From the North."
"The North, eh? Been hearing it's rowdy up there."
"Brought good goods thanks to it."
I produced a sample. Opened the box lid, and a distinctive scent wafted out. Sweet yet bitter—the signature aroma of blue-red herb.
The merchant leaned in.
"Oh, blue-red herb. Rare these days. How much?"
"Plenty."
He reached out, picked up a sample.
Sniffed it, rubbed leaves between fingers to draw sap. Checked color, held to light.
His hand paused.
"Hold on."
"Yes?"
"This isn't from Stravb Mountain."
"Quality's identical. You checked yourself."
"Where's it from?"
"Northern Krushtein territory."
"Northern? Never heard of blue-red herb from there."
"Newly discovered patch. Same effects."
"Not about effects. Customers want Stravb Mountain. 'Stravb blue-red herb,' they say. Northern stuff? What's that? Gets treated like fake."
"Once they see results, minds change."
"They won't buy to find out. No name, no sale. Can't do your price. Half, maybe—and that's generous."
Other dealers were the same. Even mentioning palace supply didn't help; they tried haggling down from standard rates.
Obviously, no sale at those prices.
Leaving the third shop, the escort knight shook his head.
"All saying the same. Effects are identical—why?"
"Branding."
"Pardon?"
"Not quality. The name."
Stravb Mountain name. Centuries of trust. Without it, prime goods get called fakes.
"Time to change tactics."