Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: The Exploited Land, Windheim (2)
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Zachry's house truly had nothing in it when we arrived.
It seemed like they had given us their best room, but even that only had two beds laid out with straw mats.
Ah, the blanket was a thin rag stitched together from a gunnysack that looked about ten years old, and the pillow was...
Just some hay pulled from a pile and tied up with string.
And in one corner of the room was a hearth against the wall, a central fire pit for cooking meals, and a ladle for serving food.
The room was so shabby that for a moment, I wanted to take back what I'd said and just camp outside instead.
But if I couldn't gather proper information here, I might lose this hard-earned opportunity.
And considering the serf Zachry's sincerity in cleaning up as best he could in just thirty minutes after I announced my arrival and offering us his best room, it was probably better to just stay.
As a master's degree holder in history—or at least someone who played one—I could think of this as fieldwork experiencing medieval life firsthand and gather intel that way.
With that resolve in mind, Zachry brought food and drink just as I'd instructed.
From what he carried in, along with what the coachman had brought earlier, there were thirteen chickens, bread mixed from rye and wheat, soup, boiled beans, and cooled beer.
It looked far better than what we'd eaten at the inn, so this must have been the finest food available in the village.
That explained why Baldt was nodding with a reasonably satisfied expression.
After setting down the food, Zachry and the coachman handed me some money.
"Here it is. And this is four silver coins in change."
"Thanks."
"Thank you, sir."
Then I turned to Baldt.
"So, Baldt. Is this enough? If it's short, say so. I'll have them get more."
"More than enough, Young Master! By the way, you're really going to share some with the coachman and Zachry's family too?"
Normally, there'd be no need to share the food I'd bought with my own money with them while staying here.
But right now, Baldt and I needed to build as close a rapport as possible with Zachry to pry information about Bailiff Mars...
Inviting Zachry and the coachman to eat together would be more advantageous for achieving our goal.
Dignity and such could wait—accomplishing the objective came first.
"Of course. I came all this way to hear their stories; I can't skimp on food for that. Besides, meals like this taste better when shared with everyone."
Baldt knew he couldn't sway me, so he gave a resigned look.
"We couldn't eat all that ourselves anyway. Understood."
Hearing that, the coachman and Zachry lit up with anticipation at the unexpected chance to eat such fine food.
"Hooray!"
"It's been ages since we had meat! Thank you, Young Master!"
"Oh, Young Master, thank you... To think you'd give meat to a lowly serf woman like me..."
And so, sharing the same food, we warmed the atmosphere and drew information out of Zachry.
Once the alcohol kicked in, Baldt went beyond resignation and started acting fairly friendly with Zachry himself.
"You've had it rough, haven't you? That bailiff... barely scraping by on one bowl of gruel a day... I lived like that as a serf too..."
"Really? I heard you were a knight who won a tournament, so I figured you were nobility from the start—worlds apart from trash like me."
"My family all starved to death, so I became a mercenary. Got lucky entering a tournament by chance and won. That's how I ended up serving the Young Master. So I get the pain of hungry folks like you... Tell me, what has that bailiff been up to? Vent if you need to."
That was how Baldt successfully coaxed all sorts of info out of Zachry naturally.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Through Zachry's tales, I learned in detail about the brutal lives of serfs in this era.
In serf villages, unless there was a bumper crop, about one in a hundred people died of starvation every winter.
Usually children or the elderly, but if the head of household starved in a bad year, the whole family ended up on the streets.
Men became beggars or criminals in the slums, women turned to prostitution.
To survive, a family needed at least 500 kilos of wheat or rye per year, and with current agricultural output, a serf household (about five or six people) produced around 800 kilos.
That sounds fine at first glance, but taxes took 60% of the harvest, leaving them short by about 180 kilos every year.
In other words, they'd starve even under normal taxation.
Add corruption, and serfs were doomed to die hungry.
Bailiff Mars exploited them far worse than I'd imagined.
First, he partnered with the watermill operator, enforcing an outdated custom to skim 10% of every batch of grain processed.
Tool rentals were supposed to be free, but the esteemed bailiff charged a 3% tax.
On top of that, he dug up archaic clauses long obsolete in our territory to levy all sorts of miscellaneous taxes.
Death duties claiming an ox when a serf died, marriage taxes under common rights, and so on.
As a result, each household was left with barely 200 kilos of grain.
That explained why some fled to become low laborers like the ones at the inn.
Stay put, and you'd die.
Facing this reality, I vented a bit of my anger by kicking an innocent stone nearby.
"Damn it all. With messes like this, no wonder the territory's people face survival crises and abandon their homes and lords!"
Anyway, now I finally understood why the Kroitel barony had collapsed.
Externally, it was because their liege count was incompetent, dragging them down too. Internally, though, they failed to root out corruption among underlings and just let administration drift.
That kind of governance was worse than none at all.
Still, I'd sniffed out the rot that the baron and his officials missed... so I could claim to have some of the insight needed for a ruler.
Their negligence had become my fortune. Now then...
"Young Master, why are you moping around kicking stones?"
Baldt stood there in the direction the voice came from.
"Baldt, I've proven my capabilities, sure... but how can a bailiff get away with this? Just thinking about it pisses me off."
Baldt chuckled wryly before replying.
"But Young Master, you succeeded in rooting out the bad apples."
"Who doesn't know that? The issue is why this was left to fester like this. Even if Father or I rule wisely and aid the serfs, it won't matter if those lunatics skim it all."
Just like if I wired 100,000 won from a Korean bank to Mom but typed the account wrong or it failed for some reason—she wouldn't get it, no matter the excuse.
A lord could cut taxes and treat people humanely, but if officials pocketed it all midway, it meant nothing.
As good as doing zilch.
"Not quite. Or rather, think of it the other way."
"The other way?"
Baldt's face grew serious.
"You found it now, so warn the bailiffs: do this and you won't get away with it. Punish and ban it. Then no more serfs starving to death."
For a moment, I couldn't process his words.
What? After hearing about this insane corruption killing people...
"Even in other territories, they skim similar amounts, just varying degrees. In my old village, farming got you 80% of the harvest taken for one excuse or another."
Baldt's face as he said it was the dark opposite of his usual lively vigor.
Like someone who'd lost family miserably, recalling the old tragedy.
"We worked day and night, but a bad year starved my family too. Everyone but kid-me: Mom and Dad both. Damn, that day I came home with armfuls of wild berries and fruit, thinking how lucky—"
"..."
"Anyway, don't get too down, Young Master. Zachry's looking for you too. Says he's making his secret family soup for breakfast. Must like you. Never dreamed serfs would serve their morning meal as-is. Couldn't imagine it back then."
"Sounds tasty. Let's go eat."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The next morning, after eating the breakfast Zachry prepared, I readied to depart.
That's when Zachry handed me three wooden boxes as I was leaving.
"Young Master, a gift from me. I don't know where you're headed, but eat it on the way. My wife made these lunchboxes before dawn."
"Thanks, Zachry."
Taking the lunchboxes from Zachry, I set off—having exposed the bailiff's corruption to prove my worth.
While harboring fury toward the bailiff who exploited Windheim's people to death by starvation.