I turned my thoughts to the issue of governance. Towns in this world were similar to those of medieval Europe in some ways, while different in others. The most pertinent similarity in this case was the existence of communes. If you considered me, the deputy, to be like the mayor, the commune was the town council, though they weren’t appointed democratically.
To explain it roughly, let’s say a guild is like a corporation. The head of the guild is the CEO, and normally, the CEO does his best to increase his company’s sales and make a profit.
The commune was a collection of guildleaders, similar to a chamber of commerce. In medieval times, this organization would also act as town council. As the members of this organization represented their guilds in collectively pledging loyalty to the king, the group was known as a commune, from the Latin word “communis” meaning “common” or “shared.”
For example, if someone in the town submitted a claim to the commune that a nearby bridge had grown rickety with age and needed to be fixed, the commune and deputy would discuss whether the project was necessary, how much of the expenses could be taken from the town’s coffers, and whether they should temporarily raise taxes in order to cover the construction costs. This tax wasn’t always monetary either; it often came in the form of forced labor.
The members of the commune would form small committees, each one with particular responsibilities, such as taxes, economic affairs, the courts, etc. If any crimes took place, two council members and four governmental officials would act as judges, create a judicial committee, and carry out a trial.
These city officials worked for these committees of council members and could be considered mid-level management, perhaps obvious considering they also fulfilled the role of the police in my old world. The system of the capital was more intricate, but this was largely how it worked in cities out in the provinces.
The scale of the commune differed by town, and the atmosphere of the city gave you a good idea of what their commune would be like. In towns near the mines, the head of their commune might be someone from the Miners’ Guild, while in more agricultural towns, the commune might not have a representative from the miners at all.
Just like what you might expect from this world, the one constant in every town’s commune was the presence of the leader of the Adventurers’ Guild. Of course, there was no such thing in the real Middle Ages.
One question I always had when reading light novels was just what in the hell the leader of the Adventurers’ Guild was actually doing. Turns out they did things like letting the head of the Lodgers’ Guild know when adventurers complained of dirty inns, or discussing with the Apothecaries’ Guild when the latter wanted to get more eyes on their quests to gather medicinal herbs.
I bet some of them also had to apologize to the guilds whose members their adventures slighted. If your adventurer failed in their duties as a guard to a traveling band of merchants, the Merchants’ Guild also suffered a loss.
The kind of power that came from being the head of the commune was probably quite important to the Adventurers’ Guild, especially when it came to making reparations to protect their reputation. While it seems possible that the head of the Adventurers’ Guild could be on the tax committee and collect taxes from the farming villages around the town’s outskirts, I had a hard time imagining that actually happening.
On the other hand, the biggest discrepancy with the medieval ages was the position of the church. In Europe, there might be multiple churches in a single town. It wasn’t like all the townsfolk could gather in just one building for weekly service after all, and there were also different orders like the Dominicans or the Jesuits. This meant that the head of each order had a seat on the commune, and it wasn’t unusual to find multiple religious heads on the council.
But in this world, there was only one religion. While I had heard rumors of rival factions, each backing some high priest or another, there was no formal distinction. From an outsider’s perspective, they remained unified.
Plus, in most towns, there was only one church. It really was kinda strange that this in particular was consistent with most games. In general, it meant that you could only find one priest in any commune.
For one, the church watched after the sick and injured. Being in charge of both medicine and faith might give them more sway in this world. Though personally, I hoped they would remain neutral.
Putting all that aside, there was something I couldn’t quite grasp—I just had the vague sense that something was off, and it had only grown more persistent as I glanced around the hall earlier. I would have to explore further, but it couldn’t take priority just yet.
My head already felt like it was about to explode just with having to deal with a new member of our enemies’ management team—to say nothing of his mysterious absence in the game, which meant I had no prior knowledge to lever against him. Seriously, they’re asking me to somehow hold down the fort until the knight brigade arrives without even Mazel being around when we’re up against an enemy as strong as the one we fought in Finoy. Could this get any more impossible?
“I hear that you slew some rabble of bandits.”
“I thought it would be best to do what we could now.”
“We at the Merchants’ Guild are thankful that you are working toward restoring public order. I hear you will execute their leaders.”
“That’s right. The others we’ll use as laborers.”
Having been addressed, I had no choice but to return to the matter at hand and respond. “Laborers” was a nice way of putting it, though as you might guess, they’d basically be prisoners forced into labor. They typically served out here in the provinces rather than around the capital.
Out here, we did have prisons, but they weren’t large enough to hold inmates for long periods of time, and there weren’t enough people to run them. Unlike in my old world, transferring prisoners elsewhere took considerable time and resources, meaning that unless the crime was incredibly serious, criminals were all dealt with locally.
As a result, there were only two options: Throw them in the town’s dungeon long-term or clap them in irons and put them to work. There was no industrial machinery in this world, meaning everything had to be done by hand. Executing them would mean less manpower, and as uncouth as that was, it was an important reason to keep them alive and working.
This world treated their forced laborers comparatively well; unless they volunteered, it was quite rare they were pressed into hard labor. Laborers were probably closer in position to the slaves of my old world. Still, they were often released early depending on the quality of their work, making it more correct to describe them as criminals sentenced to penal servitude, rather than slaves. Working in the mines was only a sentence given to criminals under supervision of the state, meaning the laborers in the provinces didn’t get such a raw deal.
Not to say this would be a walk in the park for them. The work they were assigned to could sometimes shorten their lifespans. Monsters would appear around the towns even before the Demon Lord had returned, so working long hours in those conditions, without weapons to protect yourself, was a punishment in its own right.
Incidentally, there was no law dictating how long a laborer would serve before being released. Anyone pressed into service would only be freed once the commune’s disciplinary committee decided, “Yeah, I think it’s about time we let him go.” I supposed there was an advantage to not prescribing lengths to sentences, since it prevented those who had yet to reform from reentering society. Of course, in some cases, the king granted pardon, or the deputy released a laborer. For the most part, though, it all depended on the whims of the commune—though that was all assuming it was peacetime.
“And how should we allot these laborers?”
“I shall leave that decision to you honorable men.”
“My, my. I see…”
That answer garnered some looks of gratitude, as well as stares that seemed to be piercing a hole into my intentions.
Blatantly, laborers only had to be fed. Besides that, they only worked. There were many guilds who coveted them, and in certain province towns, the commune only employed their garrison for the sake of capturing more hands. In the light novels of my old world, a bandit captured by the main character may have been forced into dangerous work outside of town just like this.
If a commune decided to suppress bandits, they often would decide how many of the prisoners would go to each guild beforehand. In this case, however, I’d acted on my own. And because I hadn’t used any of the town’s resources to do so, I would have had free rein to decide how to allot them. But instead, I decided to leave it entirely in their hands.
“There is still much I have to learn regarding the administration in this town. I’d like you to discuss amongst yourselves and bring me the most salient documents in order of precedence. I shall leave that order to you.”
There were a few who made their displeasure clear. How could someone so ignorant of affairs here be appointed deputy? But since I had asked the commune to bring me the necessary documents, they couldn’t sway the conversation toward their own guild’s interests. There was really no letting my guard down around these guys, nor were there any chinks in their armor.
“I’d like to review the documents regarding governance of the Anheim region. That is my only concern for today, but are there any other urgent matters to discuss?”
“No, there are not. I thank you for your consideration, Lord Werner.”
The old man who seemed to hold the highest rank bowed his head, bringing the meeting to a close. I nodded as well and decided to return to my office. Maybe it was just because they were also trying to size up the situation, but it seemed like things were going in my favor. The first round went to me.
Best to move on to the next order of business before they could rally for a comeback and decide to teach this youngster a lesson.