Chapter 399: Cleverer Than Their Father

Nikolaus clearly wasn’t happy about it, but in the end he agreed to transfer the case to a secular trial. He had wanted results as acting judge of a religious trial, and this absurd conclusion left him with nothing but anger and disappointment.

"My lord, this religious trial is now concluded. The punishment of those sinners falls to you. This is no longer a matter for us of the Church to interfere in."

"Thank you, Chief Monk. I’m deeply relieved it ended well."

With the special trial effectively over, Nikolaus left then and there with his small retinue, without so much as a word to me. Word has it he’ll travel down the Main River and cross over into Tyrol.

Hmm. Here’s hoping he runs into bandits.

At any rate, the trial had now passed into secular hands.

"As lord of Rosenheim and vassal of the Duchy of Beren, I shall carry out the sacred duty entrusted to me. Dressel and the remaining three not only slandered an innocent villager with false charges of witchcraft, they also destroyed the harmony between the Boeven settlers and Feuzen, and they deceived the rightful ruler of Feuzen."

Naturally, I left Norman out of it. What’s more, he had sidestepped the blasphemy itself; the clever man had artfully hidden behind the truth, unlike the others, who swore oaths and then lied outright.

"They schemed to divide this domain, and that is nothing short of treason. Therefore I sentence these criminals to death, and I hereby order that they be executed by firing squad one week from today."

"Firing squad? What’s a firing squad?"

"Does that mean shooting them dead with guns?"

"Oh, now that will be a sight worth seeing!"

The concept of a firing squad had not yet taken root, so the audience and the villagers were baffled by the unfamiliar method, though clearly intrigued. Better to use it as live-fire practice for my gunners than to hand the job to an executioner.

Unlike a beheading, a shooting did not particularly repulse the people of this medieval era. Though I suppose the executioners I put out of work might hold a grudge against me.

"Furthermore, Wiegen, representative of Feuzen, who protected the villainous Dressel on the grounds of kinship, shall have all his property confiscated and shall be permanently banished from Rosenheim. And Freman, the tavern keeper, though not directly involved, played his part behind the scenes, and is hereby fined 100 silver coins."

"A-a hundred silver coins?! Hrk, urk!"

"The greedy swine fainted dead away. Ptooey! Filthy money-grubber!"

"We knew what you were the moment you started selling us cheap booze at a premium!"

The tavern keeper who had thrown in with Wiegen to make a little money was utterly ruined. To me, 100 silver coins is pocket change, but it is a staggering sum even for an ordinary noble. The sentence amounted to an order to give up his tavern.

And even if he skips out without paying, a wanted notice will go up across all of Rosenheim, and fleeing with a whole family in tow is no easy feat. He would be better off becoming a serf.

I wonder how Wiegen, currently rotting in jail, will react when he hears the news. Foam at the mouth and keel over, maybe? I admit I’m curious. He has lost everything he owns and faces banishment, though he isn’t worth an ounce of pity.

"Honorable lord! What of Norman Hennings’s punishment?"

At someone’s question, every gaze turned to Norman, who stood there serenely. The eyes of the two lovers clouded with anxiety. Personally, I had no desire to punish Norman, but there was no way around it.

"For the crime of bringing great turmoil upon the once-peaceful Feuzen, Hennings shall be banished from Rosenheim."

He had devised his scheme to save his brother and his brother’s beloved, but the result was an enormous uproar. So I settled the matter by having him take responsibility for the disturbance with banishment. Banishment is a heavier sentence than it sounds.

Cast out alone in the dead of winter, a man has little ahead of him but freezing to death or being set upon by brigands. With luck, he might cross beyond Rosenheim and settle in another village, but would the locals welcome an outsider? One look at the strife between Boeven and Feuzen tells you the answer.

"I know you did not request the religious trial out of malice. I fully understand your desire to save Frau Erika and your brother, but someone must bear the responsibility."

"I submit to your wise judgment, my lord. Please, look after my brother."

"Your brother joined my standing army, which makes him as good as my own retainer. Don’t worry."

Norman smiled quietly. It seemed the shadow had finally lifted from his face. Erich and Erika burst into tears, and the Boeven settlers, who had known nothing of the circumstances, at last understood Norman’s heart and grew solemn.

Dressel, unable to accept any of it, shrieked like a man in his death throes.

"This cannot be! My lord! Why do you side with the Boeven rabble?! My family is an old and distinguished house that has lived in Feuzen for generations! Since before the Streit family ever set foot in this land!"

Hmm, now I see why he tormented the Boeven folk.

A local supremacist rotten to the core with delusions of chosen blood.

Naturally, that last remark was an insult to me as well. The faces of my retainers and my men twisted with fury. But Dressel, perhaps because he was a dead man walking anyway, showed no fear at all.

"Do you know that your eldest and second sons have fled?"

"Wh-what? Th-that’s impossible!"

"Clever boys, cleverer than their father, at least. They must have judged that whatever the trial’s outcome, I would never let them go, so they bolted at once. Abandoning their father, no less."

"My sons... abandoned me and ran...?"

An old and distinguished house? Don’t make me laugh.

The dumbstruck Dressel and his cronies were dragged off to jail.

As the trial neared its end, I called the restless audience to attention. I still had one last surprise to announce. I had the bewildered Erich and Erika stand at the center of the courtroom.

"As ruler of Rosenheim, I hereby grant permission for the marriage of Frau Erika, settler of Boeven, and Erich Hennings, villager of Feuzen and member of the standing army. Father Andreas, would you give them your blessing?"

"Ho ho ho, of course! There is no more rewarding duty than blessing a husband and wife."

The sudden announcement left the couple utterly flustered. And an awkward energy seemed to weave back and forth between the Boeven settlers and the Feuzen villagers. For the sake of both communities, these two would have to serve as the bridge joining them.

Their marriage will bring harmony to Boeven and Feuzen.

Harmony may be difficult right now, but given time, blood inevitably mingles. The men who sowed division have been dealt with by the stern judgment of their lord, so no obstacles remain.

But Erich was squirming like a puppy caught making a mess.

"M-my lord! I’m grateful for your permission, but there’s a serious problem!"

At the newly minted groom’s objection, the audience, which had been delighting in the birth of a new couple, went instantly cold. Erika stared at Erich as if she could not believe her ears.

Hmm, so this is what they call killing the mood.

"I haven’t saved up any money yet, so I can’t pay the marriage tax!"

"The marriage tax? Ah, right. That’s a serious matter."

"It’d be terrible not to pay the lord his tax."

"Damn it all, I forgot about the marriage tax!"

This touches on one of those mistaken bits of common knowledge about the medieval era, the so-called prima nocta. The story goes that a peasant who could not pay the marriage tax offered his wife to the tax collector instead, but nobles, at bottom, live and die by their dignity.

In the distant past, perhaps, who knows. These days, though, any noble who tried to exercise something like prima nocta would be treated as the maddest of madmen. And the Church would tear him to shreds.

Come to think of it, there was one brave soul who tried something similar. The ’lecher’ Count of Baschurten of the Geerhilt family, the one who stabbed the Western Lords’ Army in the back. Prince or not, he got raked over the coals for it.

As I understand it, the marriage tax was introduced to curb runaway population growth within a domain, but at this stage I need every extra head I can get, so there was no real reason for me to collect it.

In that case, time to lift the burden from our brave gunner’s shoulders.

"The marriage tax of Rosenheim is hereby abolished, entirely and everywhere."

Praise for their lord rang out across Feuzen.

And soon, it spread through every corner of Rosenheim.