"Sara Douglass - Redemption 1 - Sinner" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

to inform you of the measures that must be taken."
Roscic exchanged a glance with Goldman, then spoke very carefully. "Sir
Prince, perhaps it might be best if you talked this over with StarSon Cae -"
"I will inform Caelum of my decision, Roscic!"
The Chamberlain subsided. He had already said too much, considering that
his very position relied on Askam's goodwill. Goldman, however, had no such
qualms.
 "These taxes are so grievous, Sir Prince, that perhaps they should be
discussed with -"
"StarMan Axis SunSoar himself gave my father the right to tax the West as he
willed, Master Goldman! I will inform StarSon Caelum, but I have every right to
impose these taxes without his assent. Is that understood?" The four bowed
their heads.
Askam looked at them a moment, then resumed. "There is one other thing.
Over the past eighteen months, if not more, over two thousand men have moved
their families north of the Azle."
Askam shrugged a little. "If they want to subject their families to the northern
winters, then so be it, but the fact remains that most of those two thousand
have been men skilled in their crafts, professional businessmen, or successful
farmers. They have left a considerable gap in the West's resources - no wonder I
have so much trouble trying to meet debt repayments."
No, no, Goldman pleaded silently, don't do it! Don't -
"In order to stem the tide I have instructed the border guards at the Azle and
Jervois Landing to exact the equivalent of ten thousand gold pieces from each
family that intends to leave for the North."
But that is ten times my annual income, Goldman thought. How will an
ordinary craftsman pay it?
"That should go some way towards balancing the loss of their skills," Askam
said. "That is all, gentlemen, you have my permission to leave."
That evening Goldman called more than a score of men to his townhouse in
upper Carlon, all of them leading citizens and tradesmen, and there he spoke
volubly about the new taxes and their implications.
"I will be ruined!" cried Netherem Pumster, Master Bell-Maker. "How else can
I transport my bells if not by riverboat?"
"And I!" said Karl Hurst, one of the leading wool traders in Tencendor. "As
will most of the peasants in the West! All rely on transporting their wool bales
across the roadways of the West to the Icarü markets in the Minaret Peaks!"
His voice was joined by a dozen others, all increasingly angry and indignant
as the implications of the tax sank in.
"As will everyone eventually be ruined," Goldman said quietly into the
hubbub. He held up his hands. "Gentlemen, please…"
Men slowly subsided into their seats, worry replacing anger.
"I should have moved north last year, when my brother went," Hurst said as
he sat down. "The North may be further from the markets that I'd like, but at
least Zared wouldn't try to take my soul to put meat on his table."
"More like," put in a stout silversmith, "he'd give his soul if he thought it
might put meat on your table."
Goldman nodded to himself, pleased with the direction the conversation had
taken, content now to sit back and let the treason take its course.
Treason? he asked himself. Nay, natural justice, more like.