Ch.245Prisoner

“Hurrah! Long live His Majesty the King!”

“Hurrah!!”

“Ugh…”

After everything was settled, Dijon naturally went wild. Or rather, one could say it had been this way even before things were settled.

Many Imperial soldiers had either become natural fertilizer or been captured and brought to Dijon, so the overwhelming victory couldn’t be hidden. Moreover, they had brought not just soldiers but even the Emperor himself, turning Dijon into a place of frenzy early on.

Then shortly after, the capture of the King of Albion was announced with such fanfare that it might as well have been an advertisement. The achievements of this war became so famous that not only the citizens of Dijon but even the peasants of Lotharing and Caroling knew about them.

[Your Majesty, please issue a decree ordering the cessation of festivities. If this situation continues, it could seriously disrupt agricultural work.]

‘…Haha.’

The provincial officials sent throughout the kingdom were wailing daily that the villagers were so excited that it was interfering with farming.

The officials wanted to urge the farmers to focus on their work, but since the reason for their excitement was celebrating the victory and praising me, the officials couldn’t properly stop them. Apparently, if they tried to send the farmers back to their fields, they would be criticized for not reading the room or be called traitors who weren’t happy about His Majesty’s victory.

The fact that the reports didn’t just suggest options but insisted this was the only choice showed how crazy things must be on the ground…

“Indeed, I’d like things to calm down a bit now.”

I understand everyone’s joy at a victory they’ve only read about in history books, but this can’t continue.

Above all, we’ll soon have to repatriate all the prisoners to the Empire, and Dijon is already overcrowded with its high population density. In this chaos, accidents are bound to happen, so I should issue a decree ordering people to disperse. Enjoying themselves is fine, but safety is important too.

……….

According to the treaty with the Holy Empire, they had to pay a certain price to get their prisoners back.

Of course, it’s customary to receive payment when returning prisoners even without a treaty, but there’s no harm in documenting it, so we included provisions about prisoners in the treaty.

But… what’s this?

“Why are the prisoners still here?”

The Imperial prisoners were still in the detention camp outside Dijon. It was certainly less crowded than when we first captured the Imperial soldiers nine months ago, but the camp still boasted a high population density.

I heard the prisoners were still largely in the camp, which sounded absurd, so I came to see… and it’s quite a sight.

“…All the high-ranking prisoners are gone.”

While many of the common prisoners who made up 99% of the Imperial forces still remained, the top 1% of high-ranking prisoners had all disappeared. The cells where they were kept had been empty for a long time.

Well, I understand that much. Nobles are several times more valuable than the common soldiers who are as numerous as pebbles, so paying ransoms for nobles would naturally be the higher priority.

But… shouldn’t they have paid the ransoms for the soldiers after paying for the nobles?

No matter how expensive a noble’s ransom might be, it’s still low compared to their wealth. Even after paying the ransom, they wouldn’t have lost all their assets, so they could use the remaining wealth to pay for common prisoners.

Moreover, it’s been roughly nine months since they were captured. Surely they’ve had enough time to gather the ransom money.

“…”

I notice the official managing the detention camp sweating profusely beside me.

…Is he watching my reaction?

Why? No matter what happens, it’s the Imperial bastards who are at fault, so there’s no reason for me to be angry at the official.

“You seem to know something. Speak.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

The official swallowed once, then began explaining what had happened as if making a confession, and the words and sentences from his mouth were quite shocking.

Those Imperial bastards found it more profitable to abandon their prisoners rather than pay their ransoms.

For example, assuming the ransom for one conscripted serf was 100, and the annual profit that serf generated by farming was only 5, the nobles thought it wasn’t worth paying 20 years’ worth of profit and simply abandoned the serfs here.

Of course, compared to when the camp was first established, about half the prisoners have returned, so not all nobles thought this way, but it’s still absurd that about half of them did.

It’s like seeing the CEO of that logistics company who didn’t install air conditioning at the worksite because calling an ambulance for collapsed workers was cheaper than running the AC.

“Sigh… How’s the nutritional state of the prisoners?”

“We’re providing just enough rations to keep them alive so they don’t riot. Above all, we can’t spend precious tax money on enemy soldiers.”

“Yes… that’s right.”

…I was trying to be satisfied with the free labor we received, but even that seems difficult. Nine months of meager rations have left the prisoners unable to perform physical labor.

Moreover, they were all just serfs to begin with, so they were already in poor nutritional condition before arriving here. It will undoubtedly take considerable effort to restore their health.

“I need to write a letter. Do we have records of all their lords?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Good. Since they’ll all contain the same content, have my letter copied and sent to all their lords.”

It should be sufficient to write that since more than nine months have passed since the end of the war and they still haven’t retrieved their prisoners, we’ll consider this as abandoning ownership of the prisoners. If they wish to maintain ownership, they should either pay the ransom immediately or express their willingness to pay.

Of course, proper etiquette in correspondence between nobles requires all sorts of flowery language including full names, titles, and greetings, but these are foreign nobles without enough power or prestige for me to care about, so I decided to ignore that. Besides, I don’t feel like being courteous to people who came up with such an idea.

……….

“Sigh…”

‘Well, I didn’t expect much anyway.’

The wait was very short.

Except for a few minor nobles who were gradually paying ransoms one by one, everyone else sent replies saying they couldn’t pay because it was too expensive and would therefore relinquish ownership of the prisoners. Of course, there were also minor complaints about my lack of courtesy, but that wasn’t important so I ignored it.

“Select the prisoners whose ownership has been relinquished and give them regular meals. We need to restore their health and deploy them as serfs in the direct territories.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Roughly 30,000 men.

That’s an extremely large number for medieval times, but since their original owners were nearly 600 nobles of the Empire, if we divide by that number, each noble abandoned about 50 subjects on average.

…I understand even less now. For a noble who owns territory, the ransom for 50 conscripted serfs should be affordable, so why didn’t they pay? Did they really not buy them back because they thought it was too expensive?

Moreover, most of them lost conscripts in the war, so labor must be very scarce in their territories, so why… ah, never mind. The ownership has been completely transferred, so we’re strangers now. I shouldn’t worry about it.

“Ellen, how long does it take for a starving adult male to regain his health? About two weeks?”

“At least a month… no, two months are necessary. If you suddenly feed good bread and fatty meat to someone who has been starving for a long time, their body won’t be able to handle it, causing internal damage and possibly death. First, we need to slowly build them up with a very thin porridge made with a 1:10 ratio of grain to water.”

“…Ah, right. Let’s restore the prisoners’ health over two months, then decide where to deploy them.”

“Yes.”

I’ve been in this world for so long that I momentarily forgot, but Ellen is right.

When starvation continues for a long time, the liver depletes all its glycogen, and if a large amount of calories suddenly comes in, the liver tries to regenerate all the glycogen it has consumed and breaks down from overwork, causing the person to die. I remember finding this interesting when I was studying.

…I miss those days.

I don’t have many memories—just studying as a student, then working as a black agent for about two years before being captured and committing suicide—and not many good memories either, but I do sometimes miss modern conveniences. For example, games or TV— oops!

“Ahem, I’ll be going now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Suddenly realizing others were around, I looked around to find the attendant and Ellen staring at me with strange looks. The official just had an expression that said His Majesty had suddenly gone weird, but Ellen had a face full of curiosity.

Ugh… how embarrassing.

To prevent any unfortunate incidents like strange words slipping out, I had never thought about my past self in front of others until now, but as time passed, that vigilance had greatly diminished. I need to stay alert.