Chapter 157: The Price of Being Legal
Aria stared at the tax assessment.
Then she looked at the government official.
Then back at the paper.
She slowly lowered it.
"How?"
The official blinked.
"How what?"
"How is this number legal?"
The man looked at the document.
"It is a tax assessment."
"I know what it is."
"Then you understand."
"No."
Aria shoved the paper toward him.
"This is more money than we made."
The official looked at the settlement behind her.
"You have registered land, agricultural activity, commercial production, housing, workers, and a recognized settlement."
"Yes."
"And therefore—"
"Taxes."
"Yes."
Aria’s eye twitched.
Kelme leaned over her shoulder again.
"How much did you say the bowls made?"
Aria whispered the number.
"And the taxes?"
She whispered again.
Kelme’s expression became strangely thoughtful.
"So..."
Aria looked at him.
"If we had stayed criminals, we’d have kept more money."
Aria’s face became completely expressionless.
"Don’t."
"I didn’t say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was making an observation."
"You were about to suggest going back to crime."
"I was considering the economic efficiency of crime."
"Kelme."
"Yes?"
"Stop helping."
He nodded.
"Understood."
The government official cleared his throat.
"There is also a filing requirement."
Aria looked at him.
"Of course there is."
"You’ll need to report your income, expenses, employment numbers, land usage, production, and commercial transactions."
Aria stared at him.
"Every month?"
"Some records are monthly."
"And the others?"
"Quarterly."
Aria closed her eyes.
She had fought monsters.
She had fought armies.
She had fought people who wanted to control her.
None of them had ever told her she needed to organize receipts.
She opened her eyes again.
"Can we pay later?"
"The assessment is due according to the schedule listed here."
Aria looked at the paper.
Her eyes moved across the numbers.
Then stopped.
"Wait."
She pointed.
"This says we’re being charged based on projected activity."
"Yes."
"But we haven’t made most of that."
"The settlement has been assessed according to its registered economic potential."
Aria slowly turned toward Kelme.
"Economic potential."
Kelme nodded.
"You have potential."
"I hate potential."
The official almost smiled.
"Your settlement has attracted attention."
That made Aria stop.
"What kind of attention?"
"Commercial."
He looked toward the pottery workshop.
"You have already sold your first production to a merchant."
"Martha."
"Yes."
"She bought twenty-three."
"I know."
Aria frowned.
"You know?"
"The government keeps records of registered commercial transactions."
She looked at the document again.
The paper suddenly felt much heavier.
"So everything we do gets recorded?"
"Anything involving registered commerce, yes."
Kelme whispered:
"That sounds uncomfortable."
Aria nodded.
"It is."
The official adjusted the papers in his hand.
"There is one advantage."
Aria looked up.
"What?"
"Registered businesses can apply for deductions and commercial classifications."
Aria’s eyes narrowed.
"What deductions?"
"Production costs. Certain materials. Transportation. Equipment maintenance. Wages."
Aria froze.
"Wages?"
"Yes."
"Equipment?"
"Yes."
"Materials?"
"Yes."
Aria looked at Kelme.
Then at the official.
Then at the settlement.
"Why didn’t you start with that?"
The official looked genuinely confused.
"You didn’t ask."
Aria stared at him.
For several seconds, nobody said anything.
Then Kelme whispered:
"I think you just discovered the secret power of bureaucracy."
Aria slowly folded the paper.
"Don’t call it a secret power."
"What should I call it?"
"A trap with instructions."
---
The official left after explaining what documents they needed.
Aria watched his horse disappear down the road.
Then she turned toward the settlement.
Everyone was staring at her.
Forty-seven people.
Forty-seven people who had somehow decided that she knew what she was doing.
Aria hated that.
She raised the tax paper.
"Everyone!"
The settlement slowly gathered.
Kelme stood beside her.
The Duke was there as well, having arrived earlier with several soldiers to inspect the settlement and help with the transition into lawful employment.
Martha remained near the pottery workshop.
Aria looked at all of them.
"We have a problem."
Someone immediately raised a hand.
"Is it the tax?"
Aria lowered the paper.
"How did you know?"
"The way you’re holding it."
She looked at the paper.
Apparently she was holding it like it had personally insulted her.
"Yes."
A murmur spread through the crowd.
"How much?"
Aria told them.
The reaction was immediate.
People started talking.
"That much?"
"We can’t afford that."
"What happens if we don’t pay?"
"Will they take the houses?"
"Will they take the food?"
"Are we going to lose the settlement?"
Aria raised both hands.
"Stop."
The noise continued.
"Stop!"
This time everyone became quiet.
Aria took a breath.
"No one is taking your homes."
The Duke nodded.
"Correct."
The crowd relaxed slightly.
Aria looked at him.
"You’re sure?"
"I’ll make sure the law is followed."
"That wasn’t the answer I wanted."
"It was the answer you asked for."
Aria sighed.
Fine.
She turned back to the settlement.
"We have a tax problem."
One of the workers raised a hand.
"Can we just make more bowls?"
Aria stared at him.
"Yes."
He smiled.
"Then what’s the problem?"
Aria pointed at the pottery workshop.
"We can’t make enough."
Silence.
Then Kelme spoke.
"We could make two hundred."
Aria turned toward him.
"With what?"
"More people."
"We don’t have enough trained potters."
"Then train them."
"We don’t have enough clay."
"Buy more."
"We don’t have enough kiln space."
"Build another kiln."
Aria stared at him.
Kelme shrugged.
"You’re welcome."
She hated how reasonable that sounded.
Martha stepped forward.
"He’s right."
Aria looked at her.
Martha pointed toward the bowls.
"You’ve just proven there is demand."
She picked one up.
"You made twenty-three."
"I know."
"I bought twenty-three."
"I know."
"And I could sell more."
Aria blinked.
"You could?"
Martha smiled.
"I could sell far more."
Aria’s expression changed.
"How many?"
"I don’t know yet."
"That isn’t an answer."
"Because I haven’t tested the market."
Martha placed the bowl down.
"That’s what merchants do. We test demand."
Aria slowly nodded.
That made sense.
"So if we increase production..."
"You can sell more."
"And if we sell more..."
"You make more money."
"And if we make more money..."
Kelme leaned in.
"Taxes."
Aria’s eye twitched.
"Yes."
Martha smiled.
"Welcome to business."
Aria looked toward the sky.
"I preferred crime."
Kelme nodded.
"Honestly, me too."
The Duke frowned.
Aria immediately corrected herself.
"I mean metaphorically."
"You should probably stop talking."
"Yes."
---
By noon, Aria had turned the settlement into something that vaguely resembled a company.
She hated it.
There were lists everywhere.
Names.
Skills.
Materials.
Production targets.
Food requirements.
Construction plans.
Orders.
Expenses.
Taxes.
She wrote everything down on a wooden board because they didn’t have enough paper.
At the top, she wrote:
NEW BEGINNING — CURRENT WORK
Underneath it:
POTTERY
FOOD
LEATHER
ROPE
WOODWORK
HERBAL MEDICINE
CONSTRUCTION
Kelme stared at the board.
"You forgot something."
"What?"
"Sugar."
Aria immediately erased the space beneath the board.
"Good."
She looked at him.
"If you ever say that word again, I’m throwing you into the river."
Kelme nodded.
"Understood."
A pause.
"Sweet—"
Aria raised her hand.
He stopped.
"Right."
The Duke approached.
"You’re organizing everyone."
"Yes."
"You’re putting people into groups."
"Yes."
"Based on their skills."
"Yes."
"That is sensible."
Aria looked suspicious.
"You’re complimenting me."
"I am making an observation."
"Don’t."
The Duke almost smiled.
"You should also keep track of who wants to work and who doesn’t."
Aria looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because freedom means people can refuse."
Aria blinked.
She hadn’t considered that.
Someone could simply say no.
Not because they were lazy.
Not because they were disobedient.
Because they were free.
She looked across the settlement.
That mattered.
She turned back to the board.
"Fine."
She added another category.
VOLUNTARY WORK
Kelme watched her write.
"You’re really serious about this."
Aria paused.
"About what?"
"Making sure nobody here becomes what they escaped from."
Aria looked at the people around them.
Some were working.
Some were talking.
Some were resting.
Some were learning.
Nobody was standing behind them with a whip.
Nobody was ordering them around.
She remembered the people they had freed.
The ones who had asked what they were supposed to do.
The ones who had been terrified of making choices.
She remembered how she had initially wanted to leave them behind.
Now they had houses.
Jobs.
Names.
A settlement.
And taxes.
Aria sighed.
"Yeah."
She looked at the board.
"I guess I am."
---
That afternoon, the first problem appeared.
One of the workers approached Aria.
"We have a disagreement."
Aria immediately became suspicious.
"About?"
"Wages."
She froze.
"Wages?"
"Yes."
Two workers stood behind him.
One looked annoyed.
The other looked embarrassed.
Aria looked at Kelme.
He raised his hands.
"Don’t look at me."
"What happened?"
The first worker explained.
They had both worked on the pottery.
One had prepared clay.
The other had shaped the bowls.
They had been given the same payment.
One thought that was unfair because the shaping required more skill.
The other thought everyone should be paid equally because they were all part of the same production.
Aria stared at them.
This was exactly the kind of problem she had never expected.
She sat down.
"Okay."
Everyone waited.
Aria thought.
Then she said:
"We’re not solving this by arguing about who’s more important."
The two workers looked at each other.
"Then how?"
"By figuring out what we’re actually paying for."
She pointed at the pottery workshop.
"If one person works longer, they should be compensated for their time."
She pointed toward the kiln.
"If someone has specialized skills, that matters too."
Then she looked around.
"But we also need to make sure nobody is left with nothing because their work is less visible."
Kelme nodded.
"That sounds reasonable."
Aria looked at him.
"Don’t encourage me."
"Sorry."
She thought for another moment.
"We’ll have a base wage."
Everyone listened.
"Then skilled positions can receive additional pay."
The workers considered it.
"And if someone trains another worker?"
Aria looked at them.
"They get a training bonus."
The two workers exchanged glances.
The disagreement seemed to disappear almost immediately.
Aria wrote the idea down.
Kelme stared.
"You just created a wage system."
Aria frowned.
"I did?"
"Yes."
She looked at the board.
There were now more rules than she had expected.
She suddenly understood why large businesses had so much paperwork.
Every decision created another decision.
Every solution created another problem.
Every problem needed another solution.
She looked exhausted.
"I understand now."
Kelme waited.
"Understand what?"
"Why rich people have assistants."
Kelme smiled.
"Because they’re lazy?"
"No."
Aria pointed at the board.
"Because this is horrible."
---
By evening, Martha returned.
She carried a leather bag.
Aria looked at it suspiciously.
"What is that?"
"An opportunity."
Aria immediately became cautious.
"That sounds expensive."
Martha laughed.
"It isn’t."
She opened the bag.
Inside was a collection of small objects.
Wooden cups.
Small plates.
Clay samples.
A few pieces of decorated pottery.
Aria picked one up.
"What’s this?"
"A competitor’s work."
She examined it.
It was beautifully decorated.
Better than their bowls.
Aria frowned.
"Who made this?"
"A workshop in the southern market."
"They’re better than us."
"Yes."
Aria looked offended.
Martha laughed.
"You’re allowed to admit that."
"I don’t like it."
"You don’t have to."
Aria examined the piece again.
"How much do they sell for?"
Martha told her.
Aria nearly dropped it.
"That much?"
"They’re decorated."
"So?"
"People pay for things that look nice."
Aria stared at the pottery.
Then at the settlement.
Then at the people working outside.
She suddenly understood something.
They didn’t have to compete by making the cheapest thing.
They could make something people wanted.
She placed the cup down.
"We need decoration."
Martha smiled.
"I thought you’d say that."
Aria looked at the settlement.
"Who can draw?"
Three hands went up.
"Who can carve?"
Two more.
"Who can paint?"
Another hand.
Aria smiled.
For the first time that day, the paperwork didn’t seem quite so terrible.
They had resources.
They had people.
They had skills.
They had customers.
They had a market.
They even had someone willing to teach them how the market worked.
Maybe the taxes weren’t going to destroy them.
Maybe they were simply forcing New Beginning to grow faster.
Aria looked at Martha.
"You said you could sell more."
"I can."
"How much more?"
Martha smiled.
"Enough that you’ll need more than one kiln."
Aria stared at her.
Then she looked toward the tiny kiln they had struggled to build.
She sighed.
"Of course."
---
That night, Aria sat beside the fire.
Kelme sat across from her.
The settlement was quiet.
For once, nobody was shouting.
No soldiers were arriving.
No criminals were chasing them.
No one was trying to kill anyone.
Just fire.
People talking.
Children laughing.
The sound of hammers in the distance as the builders worked late.
Aria looked around.
"This is strange."
Kelme smiled.
"What?"
"We’re just... living."
He nodded.
"Yeah."
She looked at the tax document beside her.
Then at the money Martha had paid.
Then at the production list.
Then at the settlement.
"We’re going to need a lot more money."
"Yes."
"A lot."
"Yes."
"And we’re going to have to work."
"Yes."
"Hard."
"Yes."
Aria looked at him.
"You’re agreeing too much."
Kelme smiled.
"You’re finally learning."
Aria threw a small piece of wood at him.
He caught it.
Then they heard footsteps.
Both turned.
A man approached from the road.
He wore a merchant’s cloak.
He stopped at the edge of the settlement.
"Martha?"
Aria stood.
"Martha isn’t here."
The merchant looked at her.
"Then you must be Aria."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Who are you?"
The man reached into his cloak.
Aria immediately tensed.
Kelme stood as well.
The merchant slowly pulled out a sealed letter.
"I’m a representative of a regional merchants’ association."
Aria didn’t relax.
"What do you want?"
He held out the letter.
"A proposal."
Aria didn’t take it.
"For what?"
The merchant smiled.
"Your pottery."
Aria stared at him.
"Our pottery?"
"Yes."
"We barely started."
"We know."
"How?"
The merchant glanced toward the settlement.
"Because Martha sold twenty-three bowls in the southern market."
Aria’s expression changed.
Already?
The merchant continued.
"And apparently, people liked them."
Kelme whispered:
"That sounds good."
Aria didn’t answer.
The merchant smiled.
"We would like to discuss purchasing your pottery in bulk."
Aria finally took the letter.
"How much?"
The merchant’s smile widened.
"Five hundred pieces."
Silence.
Aria looked at the letter.
Then at Kelme.
Then at the single kiln.
Her face went blank.
Kelme slowly looked toward the kiln too.
"Five hundred?"
The merchant nodded.
Aria whispered:
"We have one kiln."
Kelme nodded.
"One very tired kiln."
Aria closed her eyes.
She could already imagine the paperwork.
The clay.
The fuel.
The workers.
The wages.
The second kiln.
The third kiln.
The fourth kiln.
And, somewhere at the end of it all—
Taxes.
She opened her eyes.
The merchant was still smiling.
Aria looked at the settlement.
Then at the order.
Then at the tiny kiln.
Finally, she smiled.
Not because she was happy.
Because she had just realized something terrifying.
New Beginning had stopped trying to survive.
It had started becoming a business.
And now the world had noticed.