Chapter 10

Chapter 10. Arms Dealer Jacques (3)

Jacques rubbed his forehead as if the subject was difficult to speak about.

“Well. It was a very long time ago, but as I remember it......”

He searched his memories, then sighed and spoke in a choked voice.

“Many people speak ill of him, but in my memory, he was a good man. He was honest and trustworthy.”

Perhaps memories of Alexei I were coming back to him one by one, because he wore a complicated expression and could not continue for a moment.

“He didn’t treat my clerks carelessly just because they were beneath him. He respected them. He was humble and kind to everyone.”

As emotion welled up from memories he had forgotten for many years, his voice grew hoarse, and he began speaking more and more quickly.

“When he bought weapons and left the shop, a beggar on the street held out his hand to him and asked for help. Then he took money from his pocket, gave it to the man, looked into his eyes, held his hand tightly, and told him to please stay healthy. When I asked why he would go so far for a beggar, he said he did not know what kind of person that man had been in a past life, but perhaps he had appeared before him because they had a bond in the past. He also said he did not know what kind of person the man would reincarnate as in the next life, but if they formed a good bond in this life, would they not meet again as a good bond in the next?”

Before long, his eyes were bloodshot.

“He was the finest man I knew.”

Even without Jacques saying it, Aslaf felt as though he understood his heart. Thinking of the long years Jacques must have spent burying it in his chest, unable to say aloud that the king he respected had been killed and unjustly smeared with a false disgrace, even as he burned with anger over people pointing fingers at him, made Aslaf’s heart ache.

“If that man were alive, I would have introduced you to him. Since he is no longer here, I suppose I should take responsibility.”

Jacques looked at Aslaf and Iwan with a warm gaze that had changed completely.

“Work at our shop for the time being. I can only pay you a small wage, but I can feed you and give you a place to sleep.”

“Thank you.”

Aslaf and Iwan’s faces brightened with joy, and they bowed deeply.

Jacques had them sleep in the storage room attached to the back of the shop building. He told them to learn the work while cleaning the shop and organizing and carrying weapons.

After filling their stomachs for the first time in a long while with the warm milk and bread Jacques gave them, sleep came gently. They gathered the straw in the storage room to make a soft sleeping place, covered themselves with blankets, and prepared to sleep comfortably for the first time in ages.

“It’s nice sleeping somewhere with a roof.”

“Right. There’s no wind, and we won’t get hit by drizzle at dawn.”

“I like that the floor isn’t damp.”

Aslaf and Iwan enjoyed the touch of the dry, fluffy straw and tried to sleep in the cozy storage room.

“But how did you block that knight’s sword? You really looked like a knight who’d learned swordsmanship.”

Iwan, whom Aslaf had thought was asleep because he had been quiet, asked.

“I learned a little while wandering as a gypsy.”

Aslaf covered it up with a lie. Even to Iwan, Aslaf’s swordsmanship seemed to have looked unusual.

However, even if he knew swordsmanship, his status did not allow him to swing a sword against nobles. Unless he became a noble or a knight, his swordsmanship could only be used for driving away troublesome customers.

After they spent several days cleaning the shop thoroughly, organizing the weapons well, and proving that they were diligent and kind boys, Jacques allowed them to stay in the attic at the top of the building instead of the storage room. That was possible because he trusted that they would not steal weapons and run away. Rather, it was good for Jacques as well, since they would help keep thieves from breaking into the shop.

A few days later, Aslaf heard customers who had come to the shop talking with Jacques. They said the knight he had faced had died.

“How did he die?”

Aslaf asked, dumbfounded by the sudden news.

“It seems the shallow cut from the sword got infected, and he died.”

Apparently, the knight had thought little of the wound Aslaf had given him and left it untreated, but it must have become infected. His fever had risen, the wound had swollen, and then he had died.

“That’s why he should’ve drunk in moderation.”

The customers clicked their tongues as they talked about how the knight had died.

“He said it was the money from refunding the sword, bought a lot of liquor, and drank it all down like a man being chased by something. In the end, it caught up with him.”

“He looked frightened. It seemed a little strange.”

“I heard he was rambling before he died, saying Alexei I had come for revenge.”

“And after he bragged so loudly that he killed him?”

“Exactly.”

Aslaf silently listened to their conversation while wiping the displayed swords with an oil-soaked cloth.

The Empire’s religion taught karmic retribution as a doctrine, saying that each person reaped what they had done. No one was certain whether it was true, and beliefs differed by sect, but that was generally what people believed.

If so, perhaps that knight too had ultimately been crushed by his own karma for killing Alexei I and lost his life.

The customers left, and evening came. They closed the shop and recorded the goods sold that day in the ledger.

“Three suits of leather armor, one helmet, five spears, two swords.”

Aslaf clicked his tongue.

‘Is this all again today?’

The shop’s exterior looked similar to how it had in the past, but the number of customers had decreased greatly.

According to Jacques, he had once supplied weapons to Alexei I’s army, but when Alexei I died, not only had he lost Alexei as a regular customer, but he had lost other customers along with him. Since Alexei I had been branded a traitor, Jacques, who had supplied him with weapons, had also been lumped together with him and condemned as an immoral merchant.

For a time, Jacques had agonized over closing the shop and looking for other work. But as several years passed and some customers returned, he had barely been able to keep the shop running.

‘So that’s why he couldn’t readily hire me.’

The shop’s situation was so poor that he had hesitated to hire Aslaf, a boy whose wages would barely cost him anything.

As he recorded the ledger, the shop’s situation naturally came into view at a glance.

Because capital was lacking, the goods they handled were mainly inexpensive items. In the past, they had traded large quantities of top-quality products produced in the Empire to royal families and nobles. Now, they sold cheap goods little by little to knights and ordinary soldiers.

The only reason the shop was holding on was that demand for weapons remained steady because of the war.

The Rong tribe frequently invaded the border, and the Empire had been at sporadic war with the Yeon tribe for fifteen years. Even within the Empire, riots occasionally broke out due to heavy taxes and poverty.

An army was needed for war and suppressing riots, and that was why weapons continued to sell steadily.

Before closing the shop, Aslaf cleaned it together with Iwan. As they were wiping the floor, the door opened, and the owner of the neighboring spice shop entered. He was someone who sometimes came over to chat with Jacques.

“How was today?”

The spice shop owner asked Jacques.

“Nothing special. Did you sell much?”

When Jacques asked in return, he shook his head.

“Who would cook with expensive spices in wartime like this?”

He sat down in a chair and sighed.

“To think the war would go on for fifteen years.”

Jacques brought out tea and served it to him. He thanked him and stirred the tea with a spoon.

“Ah, thank you. These days, even tea can’t be drunk as commonly as before. Everything has gone up in price because of the war. Those damned Yeon bastards.”

He blew on the hot tea and sipped it.

“Everything has become a mess because of the Yeon tribe. Before that, everything was abundant.”

“I don’t even remember well what peaceful times were like anymore.”

At Jacques’s words, the man sighed and nodded.

“Life was truly good when there was no war. Thinking back on it now, the days of Alexei I were good.”

The spice shop owner grew more and more agitated as he spoke and grumbled.

“They say Alexei I was a traitor who colluded with the barbarians, but anyway, back then, our relations with the Yeon tribe were good, there was no war, and everything was abundant.”

Aslaf was curious about what he thought of Alexei I, so he subtly cut in and asked,

“I heard Alexei I was a tyrant. Even so, was it good to live back then?”

“I don’t know what kind of person he was personally, but I liked that business was good then. Now the trade routes are blocked because of the Yeon tribe, importing spices is difficult, and people are struggling to make a living, so they don’t sell well either. On top of that, taxes have increased several times over. Marquis Sigrid does nothing but squeeze taxes out of us and throw everyone who opposes him into prison.”

He spoke excitedly, then suddenly stopped. He turned his body, stretched his neck, and looked around outside the window.

“No one’s listening, are they? A few days ago, I heard the owner of the cloth shop cursed Marquis Sigrid, got dragged away, was beaten until his bones broke, then paid a fine before being released.”

Pordis, which had been part of Alexei I’s territory, was now ruled by Marquis Sigrid.

‘That bastard Sigrid.’

Aslaf bit his lip. Marquis Sigrid, together with Marquis Georg, had helped bring down Alexei I by attacking him from both sides.

After Alexei I’s death, the Duchy of Azure had been divided and annexed, with the south going to the Duchy of Gironde ruled by Marquis Sigrid and the north going to the Duchy of Galleon ruled by Marquis Georg.

It was regrettable that the Duchy of Azure had been divided and vanished, but if the people were living well, the affairs of his past life did not matter much.

However, both from what Aslaf saw and what others felt, the people of the Duchy of Azure were living far worse than before. They were crushed under a reign of terror where anyone who voiced dissatisfaction was dragged away, so people could not trust one another or speak openly. Beggars roamed the streets in swarms, something that had rarely been seen in Alexei I’s time, when there had been many jobs and relief projects had been well run.

‘If they were greedy enough to take my land, they should at least rule it well. What kind of mess have they made?’

Aslaf clenched his fist without realizing it.

‘Do they know how much effort I put into building the Duchy of Azure?’

The Duchy of Azure was a borderland, facing the Yeon tribe to the east and the Rong tribe to the north. In such a barren and harsh place, Alexei I had used his own private fortune to lay stone-paved roads so carriages could travel, and he had repaired wells. He had reduced taxes to promote trade, enforced public order strictly so thieves would not run rampant, and run tirelessly in every direction, even waging several wars to secure trade routes, to develop it.

But Marquis Georg of the Duchy of Galleon and Marquis Sigrid of the Duchy of Gironde had invaded at the same time, killed him, and divided and annexed the Duchy of Azure.

“Those days were good. We ate turkey sprinkled generously with cumin, thyme, and dozens of spices.”

The spice shop owner muttered with a gloomy expression.

“When Alexei I collected the war tax, the Merchant Association opposed it. We shouldn’t have done that.”

At those words, Jacques lowered the teacup he had been about to lift, as if surprised.

“You opposed it then, didn’t you?”

The spice shop owner raised his voice with an embarrassed expression.

“I didn’t know it would turn out like this. If we had properly paid the war tax, Alexei I might not have died. Back then, everyone opposed it, asking why he was collecting taxes. But now, Marquis Sigrid collects several times more in taxes, and no one can even open their mouths because they’re afraid. If you miss even one day of taxes, they drag you away, torture you, and confiscate all your property.”

Hearing his words, Aslaf smiled bitterly.

‘That’s right. The Merchant Association, the Artisan Guild, and the Council all came every day to protest, saying they couldn’t pay taxes for the war.’

For Alexei I, collecting taxes had been harder than war itself. Every time he had to fight invading enemies or wage war to secure safe trade routes, he needed war funds.

Whenever he persuaded the influential families and merchants of his domain to pay taxes, they would make one excuse or another to evade or oppose it. If he won the war, they would enjoy the benefits, and if he lost, everyone would suffer, yet they refused to bear the cost.

“Taxes have increased compared to back then, but we’re suffering even more from war. Just as you said back then, Jacques, we should have supported Alexei I.”

At the regretful words of the spice shop owner, Jacques poured the remaining tea into his cup.

“Didn’t you say it didn’t matter which noble ruled? That nobles were all the same bastards?”

When Georg and Sigrid invaded as well, the Merchant Association had refused to pay the war tax.

Only now did they regret inwardly that they should have cooperated with Alexei I.

Only after suffering tremendous losses under Sigrid’s rule did the merchants of Pordis realize reality.

“I didn’t know Marquis Sigrid was this kind of person. Truly, this is too much no matter how you look at it. I thought all nobles were generous like Alexei I.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t know? Pordis was originally Marquis Sigrid’s territory, wasn’t it? Then Alexei I won the war, and it was ceded to his territory for several years before returning to Marquis Sigrid again. You all knew. You just didn’t want to bear the war tax.”

At Jacques’s point, he scratched his head and blushed awkwardly.

“You’re right. People’s hearts are truly cunning, aren’t they? Even though I knew what kind of person Marquis Sigrid was, when Alexei I treated us well, I didn’t know how to be grateful. If I could go back to that time, I really would do anything Alexei I asked.”

“You really are something......”

When Jacques laughed heartily as if dumbfounded, the spice shop owner pouted and emptied his teacup.

“I mean it. All the merchants around me say the same thing.”