EFB Chapter 86: Marriage Tax
Chapter 86: Marriage Tax
The hospital was filled with the mingled smells of herbs and blood.
Lillie hung the freshly washed linen on a bamboo pole in the corridor to dry, and directed the other female nurses, who had learned basic wound cleaning techniques, to check on the other patients.
After all, this is the first time the hospital has received so many patients.
Russell was placed in the innermost bed of the ward. His thigh was wrapped in clean linen bandages, and his back was supported by two pillows stuffed with rags. He was half-lying down talking to an old mercenary with a broken arm in the next bed.
The mercenary in the next bed was among the first prisoners to be wounded by catapult shrapnel. He was carrying a ladder and charging toward the city wall when a fist-sized boulder smashed his left forearm. The ladder collapsed, and he was crushed beneath it and passed out. He was still alive when the militia clearing the battlefield pulled him out of the pile of corpses.
Lillie amputated his left arm and used a branding iron to stop the bleeding; he didn't utter a sound the whole time.
Ivan sat on the bed by the window, obediently keeping his head down, listening to old John tell Russell about his arrest.
"You're both stupid and lucky," Russell said first after hearing the story.
Ivan was filled with shame and also somewhat confused.
Russell asked, "Old John, you should have learned about this territory these past few days. What are your thoughts?"
"We're desperately short-staffed here, especially men!"
"Are there many women and few men?" Russell asked with a strange expression.
Old John's eyes were full of expectation as he said this: "There are less than a thousand men in this territory, but there are eight thousand women. The Women's Bureau contacted me this morning. If I am willing to stay in the territory, they will give me a wife and a house. I won't have to live on the edge of a knife anymore."
Russell remained silent and did not answer. Regardless of the time or era, getting married and having children is the most difficult thing for men at the bottom of society to accomplish in their lifetime.
This is the cycle of despair for serfs, who make up more than 90% of the population, and whose marriages are completely controlled by their lords.
Want to get married? You have to pay a marriage tax to the lord, because the lord considers the wives and children of serfs to be his "property".
A poor serf might never be able to save up this much money in his entire life.
Even after getting married, the land he rented was barely enough to feed himself; having another mouth to feed meant an increased risk of starvation.
Late marriage and remaining single are the norm. Because men in the lower classes of the kingdom need to first work as apprentices or long-term laborers to accumulate some savings, such as a small house or tools, they generally have to wait until their 20s or even 30s to get married.
Many men from the lower classes remained unmarried throughout their lives, becoming drifting laborers, mercenaries, or vagrants.
There is also a huge gender imbalance crisis here.
Frequent wars among nobles, but what truly exacerbated the difficulty of marriage for the lower classes was the large number of women entering convents.
On the one hand, for political alliances, and on the other hand, for family interests, many families send their daughters to become nuns, which reduces the supply of women in the marriage market.
This is why Russell fell silent after hearing about the allocation of wives.
After a long pause, Russell finally asked, "Even if you were given wives, could you afford to support them?"
Old John's eyes lit up when he got to this point.
"Captain, this lord is simply a genius! This territory operates on a work-point system. You earn work points every day, and those points can be exchanged for food. If both husband and wife work together, they can easily support each other. If they have a child, with some effort and more work points, they can barely support the child. Once the child is older and can also earn work points, they can support themselves." Old John said, his face full of anticipation, "Then we can have a second child."
After hearing this, Russell wanted to ask sarcastically, "Old man, once your first child grows up, are you old enough to have a second one?"
Russell finally asked, "What are your plans?"
Old John couldn't help but lower his head; the past two days had made him fond of this territory.
It is more vibrant and energetic than Gorubek Fortress; at least here, he has the opportunity to achieve things that were only possible in his dreams before.
"I want to stay here!"
After a long while, old John finally spoke.
Russell sighed slightly, then nodded: "Then let's do as you say. Tell the surviving guys to stay here. But since we all came together, we should stick together and support each other so that we can survive better in this territory."
Old John was overjoyed, then laughed and cursed, "You bastard, you wanted to stay too, didn't you? Why are you asking me so many questions on purpose?"
These words made Russell somewhat embarrassed, but he nodded generously.
"I heard some news today: tomorrow the territory will begin setting up a knightly camp to train new knight apprentices." As soon as Old John finished speaking, Russell immediately put his arm around Ivan's shoulder and said, "This kid is my godson; he'll be living with me from now on."
Old John immediately retorted, "You wish! Ivan is all our child!"
Ivan laughed as he watched their actions.
That's why he likes Captain America and Old John.
"Our newly recruited prisoners may not even be selected; this matter must be handled properly," Russell interrupted old John's rant.
The ward door was suddenly pushed open, and Lillie looked at Russell and the other two with an unfriendly expression.
"If you continue to make noise in the ward, I will have the Knights Guard throw you out."
Russell immediately bowed his head and admitted his mistake.
He knew very well that, apart from the lord, this woman held the highest power and prestige in this hospital.
"Sorry, we'll speak more quietly."
………………
Meanwhile, Haaland's cavalry returned to the territory, bringing with them a large amount of supplies.
Haaland, riding his black horse, looked up at the soldiers on the barbican wall, his eyes slightly narrowed.
He could see that the soldiers in Ashwood Territory now all had their weapons made of iron, instead of the bone weapons they used to have.
Most importantly, most soldiers have already started putting on their armor.
The kind of scale armor he had never seen before.
"Every time I come here, your city walls always surprise me." Harland tossed the reins to Grayson behind him. "How about that armor?"
Ron said irritably, "Are you here to look at the city walls or to talk business?"
"I want them both." Harland walked up to Ron. "Name your price for the ballista blueprints."
"I'm not selling the blueprints. I can sell you ballistae directly, and I guarantee it'll be cheaper than what you build."
Haaland squinted. "How much cheaper?"
"It's 30% cheaper than if you bought it elsewhere."
"I want ten doors."
"No, a maximum of six doors, delivery in six months."
"Eight Gates".
"Six doors, take it or leave it. I can only let you come and get one door per month at most, I need to use it myself too."
There are also a dozen or so carpenters in the territory, which is perfect for him to practice his skills.
Haaland stared at him for a few seconds, then reached out his hand.
Ron reached out and shook hands.
Both hands were released at the same time. There was no high five, no contract, only an unspoken understanding between the old fox and himself that didn't need to be written down.
"Then take me to see the ballistae."