The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 43: The Whistling Duck Seneschal

Up at the castle:

The day after the Lantern Festival marked the end of the holidays, Anasius the whistling duck spirit carried his account books into Baron Claymouth's study for their yearly review of barony finances.

"We're doing well, my lord," reported the seneschal. "If you would like, we could even increase the capitation tax by a copper."

For the past few years, the weather had been good, and the peasants had produced a surplus of rice and wheat to sell to other fiefs.

"Mmmm," said the baron. He traced his finger down the page as he pored over the numbers, balancing his needs against his peasants' inevitable complaints. "That's acceptable. Do it."

Anasius made a note for himself, then went through each of the categories of taxes, tolls, rents, fees, and fines in turn. Barony revenue came not just from the capitation tax levied on every adult resident, but also from property and inheritance taxes; tolls on bridges and roads; rents on homes, shops, and market stalls; fees for using the official mill, well, oven, brewhouse, and bull; licenses to peddle goods; mandatory festival gifts presented to the baron by his vassals; and more. Fines for offenses such as public drunkenness and disorderliness added up, too.

Annoyingly, even though the baron owned the pasture, woodland, and meadow, tradition allowed the peasants to use it practically for free. Anasius hadn't come up with a way to raise that fee yet without alienating everyone – which was never a safe option. But that didn't mean he didn't track their usage patterns.

"Timber exploitation went up last year," he informed the baron.

"Oh? Did Master Gravitas expand his business?"

Anasius shook his head. "No, although there's talk of him taking an apprentice this year. The second Jek boy."

The baron raised his eyebrows. "The Jeks haven't applied for permission to apprentice their son to the carpenter, have they?"

Anasius consulted his records. "No, although last year they did apply to apprentice him to Master Gian the basket maker. Apparently that contract fell through. I'll keep an eye out for a new application." And the special fee that the baron charged for registering new contracts. "But in fact...it appears that it was the Jeks who increased their use of the woodlands last year."

"So their son could practice woodworking before they approached Master Gravitas?" The baron looked more perplexed than displeased.

Anasius consulted the reports he'd received. "For...property improvements, actually. Apparently they built...a pigsty and a chicken coop? And...new furniture?"

"So they were having their son practice woodworking to improve his chances of getting the apprenticeship!"

"Perhaps," agreed Anasius, "but why a chicken coop?"

The whistling duck spirit was old enough to remember when chicken coops were necessary to protect hens and their eggs from foxes. But the pests hadn't been a problem in the humans' living memory.

The baron frowned as he tried to remember who all his peasants were. "The Jeks...the Jeks...that sounds familiar. Aha! Mistress Jek was born a Lom, wasn't she?"

Although he was the Loms' lord, his forefathers had learned not to tangle with the sharp-tongued, eccentric family. Let them have their delusions of grandeur about their supposed connection to the long-defunct imperial family. So long as they paid their taxes, tolls, rents, fees, and fines on time, and didn't incite their neighbors to revolt, he got what he needed.