…Maurs brought you a cup of @{irddrink water|cider|wine|ale|canewine} when you first came in, then left to attend to the harvesters helping with the inn’s own autumn crop.
So you’re the only one there when Telone Baldassare and the runaway Dorn step simultaneously into the caskroom.
The ${erretsin} taxman’s eyes go at once to the newcomer. “Another traveler? What are you called, man?”
“Dorn, kurios.” The haggard runaway tries to smile and makes a clumsy bow, but there’s something in his haunted eyes that recalls a bird entranced by a snake.
Baldassare spots it as clearly as you do, and his own eyes narrow. “What business brings you to Irduin, then, goodman Dorn?” When there’s no immediate answer, the Telone nods toward the wall that bears the motto on its far side. “And remember: speak no lie.”
With no one else present, you realize you’ll need to catch and hold the Telone’s attention yourself to prevent him questioning the fugitive. “Kurios Baldassare?” Heart pounding, you stagger toward him, feigning a drunkenness you more than half-wish was real. “In the spirit of that caskroom motto…there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
*fake_choice
#“Why are you always so bloody obsessed with numbers and letters and records?”
*gosub baldconf
“You’re always after everyone about their records, their maps, their deed-writs, and Angels-know-what-else. Now, I don’t know how it is in the cities or in ${errets}, but out here, scarcely one in seven people might know their alphabeta in the first place! To satisfy you, every merchant and farmer would have to spend as much time writing about their livelihood as they do actually earning it.” You lean forward,
*gosub dornhope
“Just levy a reasonable tax, man! Rather than making folk feel like fools, and then punishing them, for not doing something that most of them lack the skill for anyway.”
*gosub baldlist
"Good${woman} ${ird_name}…taxes feed the soldiers and helots whose blood defends us. They pay for roads and canals and bridges, for ships and steelworks, for everything that makes us greater than our humble forebears.
"And yet the Thaumatarch’s servants are forced to collect them half-blind! Numbers and records are our eyes–as are uniform rules. Yet we find them everywhere in so poor and inconsistent a condition that we must spend our time laboriously feeling over the shape of all we cannot see. Levy a reasonable tax, you say…but how can a blind man reasonably apportion anything?
“And so we are continually leaving great wealth untouched in one corner of a district, while pressing others to bear a burden that is beyond their means. Yes, yes: some of the things they hate us for are truths, not excuses. But without better records, we cannot know which until the damage is done!” For a moment, Baldassare almost sounds forlorn. “The folk of the realm are like a book written in ten thousand different languages. Outsiders can only understand a few pages. They must be translated into Koine, one language, one way, before we can truly be strong. The folk of Irduin think me a thief; but what I truly am is a translator.”
#“Do you truly believe you’re going to leave the Hegemony with a stronger hold on Irduin?”
*gosub baldconf
“Does it truly benefit the Hegemony when you squeeze every last grain and drachem of tax out of a district–if by doing it you turn the whole district against you?” You lean forward,
*gosub dornhope
“How much more silver do you think all your hounding will scare out of Irduin, Telone, above what your predecessor was able to find? Enough to pay for another two Alastors, or ten, or twenty? You’ll lose them, and more, if you turn this quiet corner into something like the Rimhart! Where’s the benefit to anyone in that?”
*gosub baldlist
“It is not just a matter of silver, ${girl}. It is a matter of law, and respect for the law.” He presses his fingers for a moment to his brows, as if his head is hurting him. "The Hegemony makes so many laws–constantly emerging from the councils of the priests and the writ of the Archons, explaining and interpreting and ornamenting the Canon of Xthonos. It could be argued that they make too many. Even the most diligent subject can struggle to stay apprised of them all.
“But when the local power-holders do not even try? When they treat the law as some faraway game, that should not be allowed to disrupt the way they have always arranged matters for themselves?” Baldassare gives a firm shake of his head, eyes blazing. “Without law there is no order, young ${fname}. There may be some kind of balance, there may even be peace for a time, but nothing worthy of the name of order–nothing firm enough to be relied upon. The true reason folk hate me is not that I take more of their silver, but that I force them to respect the law.”
“And if that should send Irduin onto the path of the Rim?” you press him.
“Without respect for the law, there is no Hegemony anyway. Just the illusion of one.”
#“Why are you such an utter bastard to everyone?”
*gosub baldconf
“Why are you so Xthon’damned rude to everyone, Telone? Everyone! Whether they’re trying to hide things from you or trying to cooperate with you.” You throw your hands up in the air,
*gosub dornhope
“Don’t you think you might make fewer enemies–for yourself and the order of the Hegemony–by not treating everyone like they’re your enemies?”
*gosub baldlist
“I do not ask questions as a friend, because I am not a friend. I cannot be a friend; it would go against my sworn duty. I will not lie about that, nor will I give anyone the least reason to think otherwise.”
“It’s one thing to not try to make friends in your work, Telone. But to constantly be hostile…?”
“Hostile questioning reaches the truth far faster than softness or politeness. In cases where there is nothing to hide and matters are well-managed, we will find out quickly, and I can start turning over new stones. They hate me after, yes. But they will hate me anyway.” Baldassare’s voice is cool and matter-of-fact. "This is where Alastor Korren and the lady Alasais are so fundamentally mistaken. They think they must first be loved, and order will follow. They do not understand this truth: no one loves to be ruled. No one ever truly loves their rulers.
“But rulers we must have, if we’re to have any order in this world. And so taxes we must have. And truth–even when digging it up makes folk hate us and call us names.” He’s still glaring at you, but there’s something fearlessly impersonal about his ire.
*fake_choice
#The man’s so used to justifying his work that he just can’t stop doing it, however starkly he’s shown his errors.
But you’ll at least give him credit for not just punishing your boldness.
#He’s not all wrong, actually. I find myself almost agreeing despite myself.
You nod slowly, letting your surprise show in your expression.
#All I’m thinking is: $!{oath}, why hasn’t bloody Dorn escaped yet?
Maybe a compliment will win you the Telone’s attention for a little longer.
“Even in this caskroom, I don’t think many would have answered as forthrightly as you just did, Telone.” Your pulse is still hammering madly in your throat.
Baldassare just shrugs and says curtly, “Whatever else folk might say of me, all my life I’ve kept to goodman Maurs’s rule.”
“My what?” To your vast relief, Maurs briskly reenters the room on his hand-stilts. “How now, kurioi? All looking very serious.”
“Young ${kuria} ${alias} here has been giving me a piece of ${his} mind. Perhaps in ${him}, I’ve found one more person in this backwater who understands the value of honesty untrammeled by politeness.” Baldassare offers you an unsmiling nod before turning back to the innkeeper. “Speaking of which, goodman Maurs: I was seeking an introduction to your new guest.”
“What, Dorn? He’s a friend’s friend from down in the Aldyer valley. With it getting so hard to live by farming, he’s on his way to try his luck in the city. Supposed to be more work there.” Maurs throws the Telone an easy grin. “He’s also a shy one. Aren’t you, Dorn my brother?”
The fugitive bobs his head. Baldassare looks him up and down carefully. “What’s your trade, man?”
“I’m hoping to help at an inn, kurios,” Dorn says, hoarse-voiced.
“As likely, you’ll be impressed into the Phalangites.” The Telone turns away at last. “If you’re not Harrowed on the road by some fool who thinks shyness makes you a helot. Watch yourself, goodman.”
[…]
*label baldconf
Baldassare’s jaw sags in furious disbelief. “How do you dare…such seditious impertinence…?”
“Sedition?” You cut him off with equal heat in your voice. “I escaped here from the Rim Commotion, man! I’ve seen the threat you only rant about. If I tell you that what you’re doing is hastening revolt on, rather than fending it off…you should thank me, not threaten me!”
He doesn’t try to outshout you, to your surprise. (And disappointment; you’d hoped it would bring one of the Innkeeps in, sooner rather than later.) Instead, his voice drops: cold, curious, entirely level. “Speak whatever you think you see, then, ${ird_name}.”
*return
*label baldlist
Again to your surprise, Baldassare listens without trying to cut you off. He’s visibly angry, but takes a moment to consider your words before answering.
*return
*label dornhope
hoping to give Dorn a chance to slip away.
*return
