Chapter 5

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So, what can I use?

I was not going to infringe on the money collected by the municipality, although, in principle, I could. But it was easier and smarter to earn my own money. Technically, of course, I am the lord of this town and the surrounding lands. As long as there is no duke. And I am considered the lord of the decision of just these people. But it's one thing to be considered, and quite another to use the rights accidentally obtained. They may remember that not so far away from here the peasant army once quite successfully defeated the knight's army. And even invite a new baron... because of the natural loss of the old one.

That is, here I am like the president at home. Nominally the most important and the most terrible, and the laws are all for me, and everyone bows to me. But if anything happens, only five percent of the decrees will be executed. Well, adjusted for mentality, maybe more, but only if they have nothing to do with money and too much to do with local life. So...

I stopped at the window, gazed out at the city rooftops, and suddenly remembered Mitrich's admonition.

"I'm thinking, Egelbert, shouldn't we make it compulsory for townspeople to do sex work, say, on Saturdays?"

"Uh... Uh... " As tolerant a European as my manager was, I could now see that in his poor head the gears of thought were losing touch with reality, spinning idly. I had to take pity:

"And allow not to fulfill it for a small penalty."

"Оh!" The gears were instantly clutching and turning in their proper rhythm. "Actually, many rulers have passed similar laws, though not so radical. But I'm afraid it will cause unnecessary tension in society. I think we should look for something less unaccustomed."

"Yeah, I guess... Then again, what if someone doesn't want to pay off? Hire specialists, prepare premises, make lists, keep records... Screw it, Egilbert, we'll do it the traditional way."

"A very wise decision, Mr. Baron!"

Damn. How do you instill in him a sense of humor? I mean, human a sense of humor, not European?

"Then let's think about how we can make money for operational expenses. By the way, I need a badge with a specific symbol. Where would I get one?" The manager immediately called somewhere in town. "And while we're waiting, let's figure out how much we need."

It turned out that relatively not much was needed. Only the options for earning money were even less.

The castle, as the old man assured me, cannot be mortgaged. It is not worth squeezing money out of the townspeople - my problems, I should be the one to solve them. I sadly put aside the idea of raising the rent of the IT company that rents the space. The lease was for several years, and von Schnitze had already taken out a loan for something under this contract. So I've seen only one solution so far: tourists. "Breakfast at the Grave" is the first the day after tomorrow, boxes of "traditional snacks" are ready, but it's pennies, the manager didn't get his money for nothing. Everything that can be done has already been done. Something else is needed!

"Egelbert, how could my predecessor have gotten money eight hundred years ago? By legal means?"

"How about a knighthood?"

'Shield money', the words from the book I was reading flashed in my head. Well, that's more interesting!

"And why would a normal person want to become a knight?"

"First, the title. Secondly, knights do not pay taxes."

"How.... at all?!"

"Yes, Mr. Baron."

"I'm gonna be a billionaire!"

"I'm afraid this is only an imaginary benefit. It is unlikely that the governments of other countries..."

"Egelbert! Imagine how many people there are who would do anything to be able to say, I, by right of noble birth, don't have to pay taxes'. - and who cares if they don't pay taxes just here."

"There is, however, a condition - only the sons of knights can become knights!"

"No way!" I was already flipping through the cherished book. "Here it is: 'Accepted for valor and the habit of fighting', which means that the choice of candidates is not so short."

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"But in Melfi's Constitutions."

"Canceled a month ago?"

"Goddamn, this referendum!"

"I agree. Nevertheless, I can bestow knighthood quite unequivocally. In addition, here is "devoted must be the owner of a noble land". That is, whoever has land that entitles him to nobility, I am simply obliged to knight him. I'll cut off a piece of mine..."

"Impossible! All the space is already being used!"

"Von Schnitzel, don't make me angry! Is there no free land here?"

"There is. By the castle itself, a little over half an acre."

"That's enough. We'll cut it into two-by-two-meter plots, they'll be a fief."

"A fief should provide for the knight!"

"If a knight can't survive on four square meters - I don't need such a vassal!"

"And yet I must insist! According to the law... no, don't laugh, Mr. Baron, it's a very clever law and it's worth listening to!"

"Well, tell me."

"I propose to cut four hundred square meters - this is the minimum size of a garden plot in the federation."

"Okay, I agree. Then they'll become normal cottagers. Oh, here it is: "demanding from applicants an income of not less than twenty pounds a year from the land he owns". So you earn thirty euros a year, you're good to go. They put up one greenhouse with strawberries and the formality is fulfilled."

"This rule is seven centuries old. Inflation has to be taken into account!"

"I don't know, no such "inflation" is mentioned here."

We argued for another hour or so. We each flipped through our copies of "Life of a Feudal lord" or snatched them out of our opponent's hands. Finally, we agreed that the six applicants to the "Knight" cottage community were all right for me, by all accounts. Two candidates were scored at once - the head of the city police, that is, the baronial guard. And the local mayor. First, once they become my lien holders, everything they say will go as if from me, which will facilitate their work in the new conditions (relieving me of the need to pry into the daily grind). Secondly, the gift is weighty, it costs me nothing, and the locals will be pleased that my first knights are Esks.

Besides, I remembered well that "a vassal must not raise his hand against his liege lord or at all malign him. And one must have reliable men in all environments. It is also good for the image, so far I have ordinary servants, but it is not enough. Von Schnitze and his family are not my vassals, and are more concerned with ideology than real politics.

I wonder how gold spurs would look on modern shoes?

They can also have a coat of arms... hell, I wish someone would draw it for me.

While I was pondering whether halberds and swords should be made compulsory in the local police uniform, the steward brought the item I had ordered.

"Well, well..." I twirled the badge in my hands, figuring out how it would look. "Is there a picture of me on the website?"

"I couldn't without your permission."

"Great! Let's do it," I dressed formally, pinned my badge to my lapel, and stood in front of the mirror. I had to work hard to get the right expression on my face, alternately forcing my muscles into a position somewhere between "no money," "hey, you jackass, where did you go?" and "oh, I wish I could hit you".

The desired effect was achieved by combining all three faces, adding "you make my teeth hurt!", slouching and standing against the unplastered wall.

"Shooting... Done. Why do you need this particular badge?"

"Magic, Egelbert. Very powerful magic!"

"I thought you were going to wear Eskenlandish, or Romanian."

"It's too, but later." Another picture, but in a polo shirt, sitting upside down in an ancient carved chair, no badge, and with a distinctively Romanian expression of "yes, I drank a little, but I love you all anyway. "Now this one," I pointed to the first one. "Don't mix it up! Put it on the barony's website."

"What about the other one?"

"Keep it, for now, I'll tell you later. When you post it, send information about it and a link to the site... Well, for example, to the office of the guys who informed you about freezing the account. By the way, what was their reasoning?"

"That the employee sent for confirmation did not return in time and accordingly they blocked all of our accounts as suspicious."

"Yes? Fine, then. I bet you'll find out later that it's impossible to send a new inspector to us because the budget for the overseas travel has been exhausted. Or because going to a medieval prison prohibits the union... never mind. Place an ad, here's the text." I quickly sketched out the ad.

"And yet, Mr. Baron..."

"Egelbert! First of all, we'll charge everyone who wants it as if it were the best survival course. Second, we'll have a hundred or two, along with parents and friends, free promoters talking about the museum every day. Third, we'll have competitions and a real tournament!"

"Where to get so many participants?"

"The most important thing is the audience, and we'll find the participants somehow!"

The manager, not completely convinced, but no longer arguing, left without removing the expression of the deepest doubt from his face. I tossed up a badge with a North Korean flag on it. The one I wore for the first photo and put it in the drawer of my desk. We are all adults here, and we understand that we will have to answer for our words, especially in such an ambiguous political situation. But what prevents us from avoiding words? For those who understand the hints, a couple of pictures will be enough. If they don't, they'll have to go further ... like hanging the flags of every country that conquered the Esks over the tower. And forget about the federation flag.

Whistling, he descended the stairs, running down the flights of stairs automatically. He only bragged when he realized that he had already gone a few too many. This seemed to be the entrance to the torture chamber. I took a step to the side, leaning against the wall...

The last thought of the baron flying off somewhere after the fallen stones were: "Now the castle will be haunted!"

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"This summer only! An incredible chance to send your son into the age of chivalry and adventure! The Barony of Gravstein announces the recruitment of squires! Consecration as a squire with a certificate from the owner of the oldest barony of the Duchy of Eskenland! Full training lasts six weeks, at the end of the training, the best graduates will be knighted by the Baron himself!

Hurry up, places are limited!"

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