Snippet #2579090

Orders and cries shouted across the fields outside the grand city of Maslona. Hundreds of new recruits were gathered on the fields to do drills while being supervised by senior commanders. The duke himself was overlooking the training. He stood on top of a wooden platform made specifically to overseer the fields. At the table in which Vaiven sat at, he debated with his advisers over the coarse of the future budget for the Duchy.

"If the army continues to increase in size, then we must cut other expenditures or at least raise taxes." Marco, the treasurer of Maslona suggested to his lord. "I say that we raise taxes on prostitution, grain, trade, and tariffs."

Vaiven looked through the financial logs with a puzzled look on his face. Their were numbers missing. Fifty thousand silvers over the coarse of the decade to be exact. Marcus' work as always. "I could always raise taxes or cut expenses, but..." His dagger came down on the man's hand with force. "I would rather cut you out of the picture entirely. Take him to dungeons to rot away." He told the guards, who hauled the screaming man away. The duke planned to give the man's property to the citizens of Maslona as a stimulus and without Marcus laundering money the funds would have room for more recruits. He wanted at least ten thousand by the end of the year.