The midday sun shines on the floating fields, allowing new shoots of corn to grow. The cool breeze blows across the lake, bringing the moist smell of earth. The three of them took a small boat and traveled through the waterways of Chinampa. Shulot was wearing an ordinary priest's robe, and Gillim was wearing a simple cloth. Bertard wore unpatterned leather armor and carried a longbow.
Seeing the three people, the farmers on Chinampa bowed their heads and saluted. They expressed their sincere respect for Shulot's status as a low-level priest, and then continued their work, planting flowers in the gaps of the floating fields. There is never enough work to do on Chinampa.
"The Texcoco Lake District is the foundation of the alliance's governing tribes. Within one or two hundred miles from the capital, there are 1.5 million people in the lake district. They are only three to five days away from the capital, so they are Tightly controlled. There are 50,000 warriors directly under the royal family, and the other seven states have about the same number. Only by relying on the superior strength of the warriors directly under the royal family can we suppress the entire alliance city-state."
Gillim spoke solemnly about the current situation, with a trace of solemnity between his brows.
"Since the other seven countries can gather 50,000 warriors, then their combined population should also be 1.5 million?"
Shulot asked thoughtfully.
"The population of the other seven states should be slightly more than 1.5 million, and there are still unsubordinated savage tribes in the mountains and forests. After all, the Lake District is richer, with a higher proportion of warriors and better equipment. However, the land in the Lake District has been developed To the limit, the canals are complete and the population has reached its peak. But the other seven states still have large areas of uncultivated land, and canals can be built along the Tampen and Leman rivers and Chinampa can be built."
Gillim recalled the relevant information seriously. As long as sufficient investment is made, the population of the other seven states can grow further. However, the center has no incentive to develop the place.
"Outside the four capital states, the great nobles and priests will replace the royal family and princes, occupy most of the land, and become local rulers. The proportion of small nobles and civilian warriors will basically remain unchanged."
Shulot pondered slightly. He thought about his family's land holdings in Teotihuacan and made a mental calculation.
"The large nobles of each city-state occupy 55% of the land, the priests 20%, the small nobles 15%, and the civilian warriors 10%. The influence is roughly estimated at 55%, 30%, 10%, 5%, and the military strength is 20,000 The private army of the big nobles, the five thousand temple guards, the private army of ten thousand small nobles, and the eleven thousand civilian warriors."
"According to the combined population of three million, the influence of the royal family and the government in the alliance is only 18%, the prince 5%, the great nobles 40%, the priests 22%, the small nobles 10%, and the common people 5%."
Shulot was secretly shocked. These specific numbers don't mean much; they are just rough estimates. But behind the numbers can reflect the current situation of the Mexican Federation: it is similar to an aristocratic feudal state without strict hierarchical relationships, or a loose tribal alliance on the Eurasian grasslands.
The influence of the great nobles is astonishingly high, they are completely autonomous, and their loyalty is wavering. And the small nobles often took orders from the local big nobles. If you want to suppress the aristocratic forces in various places, you can only expand the power of the royal family, unite priests and civilian warriors, and compete for the support of small nobles. If we want to promote metal tools in the future, we must also prioritize direct territory and enhance core strength.
The atmosphere became dull for a moment. After a while, Gilliam spoke.
"Not far to the west is the village of Tlacopan. Villages are the foundation of Mexica society. We might as well go there and have a look. The Prince of Tlacopan has handed over the land there, and I also want to learn about the local people. Development."
Shulot nodded happily. He also wanted to know more about the lowest level village community. The boat then drew a light arc and quickly headed towards the west bank of the lake.
The outermost edge of the west bank is also the neatly divided Chinampa, which belongs to the nobility or royal family. Along the spectacular Prepecha Highland Water Canal, there are villages dotted on both sides and continuous farmland.
Looking at the vast farmland, Gilliam smiled again. In the eyes of the Mexicans of this era, they have developed the valley to the extreme.
Slash-and-burn milpas dot the plains of the valley. Relying on high-yielding American crops, each hectare of milpa can feed three to five people, and the yield is even higher than that of Spain's rough dryland farmland. Although this cannot be compared with Chinampa, which had twenty people per hectare, it was already a great achievement in the Stone Age.
Shulot sighed slightly. He was not satisfied with this. There are huge flaws in current agricultural production. The limited river mud and manure must be supplied to the Chinampa floating fields first, so Milpa cannot be cultivated continuously and must be left fallow in rotation to maintain fertility.
And more importantly, without metal tools and large livestock, the most basic and important deep farming of ancient agriculture would not be possible. Animal power replaced human power, iron plows replaced wooden plows, and scythes replaced sickles. This was the first cross-era progress in the history of agriculture, and its significance is even equivalent to the first industrial revolution. Likewise, this was the basis for the development of the Great Plains of North America, where grass has deep roots.
The boat docked on the shore. The three of them walked ashore, followed by four or five warriors. Not far away is a village. In the village community with mud walls and thatched roofs, Shulot actually saw Baishi's solid warehouse and shrine from a distance. It was obvious that this village was quite prosperous. He went to the village center.
Most of the villages in Mexica are still in the stage of communal communal ownership. A group of four is responsible for village affairs and builds a collective storage warehouse and priest's temple. There is usually one team leader for every two hundred people, who is responsible for the team's food distribution, work allocation and accommodation arrangements. The leader of the team is also richer and can support his own warriors to intimidate and manage the villagers.
The busy farming periods are from April to June and August to October each year, requiring village collective stone work. The remaining time is the off-farm period, which requires making stone tools, spinning cotton cloth, grinding corn flour, collecting wood, repairing houses and warehouses, digging river mud for the lord, building canals and buildings for the alliance, transporting food and serving as battlefield militia during war .
All in all, in this era, the lives of farmers are always endlessly busy, and there is no pastoral leisure at all. Their lives don't belong to them either.
Before anyone could get close, fierce noises could be heard in the distance, as well as the sound of long sticks hitting shields. Bertard's expression changed. He quickly stepped forward and blocked Shulot behind him. Gilliam also looked solemn.
The three of them passed through the hut and saw a tax warrior wearing a family pattern leather armor in the center of the village, shouting something loudly. An old village elder knelt at his feet, and beside him stood a village priest in white who looked anxious and kept arguing.
Nearly a hundred cotton-armored warriors were plundering the warehouse in the center of the village and nearby houses, seemingly collecting tribute. Some of them were carrying tortillas, some were carrying cotton cloth, some were dragging turkeys, rabbits and domestic dogs, and some were even carrying various pottery and stone tools. From time to time, warriors wielded war clubs and shields to intimidate villagers who tried to obstruct them. The rest of the people were busy happily and smiling.
On the periphery, less than ten civilian warriors led hundreds of village men, holding simple weapons, gathered together in fear and anger.
Shulot quickly counted and found that there were four groups of cotton-armored warriors present, totaling eighty people. This is a force that a single village cannot resist. Even with the richness of the lake area, after paying the tribute, a village of a thousand people could only support less than ten full-time warriors. Together with hundreds of village strongmen, it could resist the attack of forty warriors at most.
Therefore, the tax collection team of each city-state generally ranges from forty to sixty people. A tax collection team of eighty people is generally rare, because the warriors will always obtain additional profits and cause damage to the wealth of the village, which is equivalent to harming the interests of the lord.
Shulot glanced at Bertard, and the warrior commander nodded slightly. He walked forward quickly towards the leading tax warrior.
"...The noble Prince of Tlacopan will collect this year's tribute! Everyone must obey the orders of the Alliance! As the village priest, you must also obey the lord of the village, the great Prince of Tlacopan!"
The tax warrior looked fierce. He struck his shield with his war club, intimidating the village priest who was still struggling with himself. This kind of priest from this village has always been troublesome, and his status is special, so it is difficult to do it directly. As for the village elders who were prostrate and begging at his feet, he didn't even bother to look at them.
"Sir Samurai. Every year our tribute is paid according to the alliance's standards. Why is there so much more this year! The village really can't afford it. I beg you to reduce it!"
The white-clothed priest lowered his head deeply, grabbed the taxing warrior's arm forcefully, and begged in a low voice.
The taxing warrior frowned. He pushed the white-clothed priest away impatiently and shouted casually.
"That's because the benevolent prince has always been tolerant in the past, and you have already owed a lot of debts. This year is the last tax collection, and it must be paid in full! The laws of the alliance have always been like this, and the nobles of Tracopan follow this Standard! Huh? If you don’t believe it, you can go to Tlacopan and ask now!”
There are no words or decrees, and it is not up to the nobles to decide how much to charge. How could the priest in white leave now? He could only plead again and again, hoping in the non-existent kindness of the taxing samurai.
Bertard strode forward. He looked calm, with suppressed anger in his eyes, and asked in a deep voice.
"The New Year has not started yet. The date for the alliance to collect tribute has not come yet, why are you collecting taxes now?!"
The tax warrior looked up and down at Bertard's simple attire and didn't care at first. Then seeing his charging posture while walking, his pupils suddenly shrank. Finally, the long bow on his back stayed for a moment, and finally his face showed contempt.
"Huh? Where do these wild warriors come from and use despicable weapons like bows and arrows! Of course Prince Tlacopan has the final say on when to collect taxes. Can you doubt the prince's orders? Get out of here!"
As he spoke, he waved his war stick, and several warriors quickly gathered around him, semi-surrounding Bertard in the center.
Bertard's expression remained unchanged. He continued to question solemnly.
"This land and village will soon be handed over to the royal family. If you take away the excess taxes in advance now, are you giving it to the alliance? When the new year begins and the royal family officially collects taxes, what will these villagers pay?"
Hearing this, the village leader who was kneeling on the ground suddenly raised his head and looked at the taxing warrior in disbelief. The priest in white also took a few steps back in shock, and then quickly told the news to the warriors and strong men in the village.
The village samurai who were trying to be patient could no longer bear it. They shouted loudly, and the armed men became excited. Everyone waved their weapons, daring each other to step forward and approach the cotton-armored warriors who were also brandishing weapons. Seeing that the conflict was about to break out.
The taxing warrior's eyes flashed fiercely. He gestured to the left and right, and then approached Bertard with murderous intent.
Shulot had been watching calmly, and then he nodded to his followers and then moved forward boldly. One of the followers took out a rare horn given by the elder and blew it loudly. The deep and deep voice resounded throughout the world, and everyone immediately paused and looked at it.
Shulot's expression was majestic, with the unique aura of a superior person. He calmly walked to the center of the crowd, stared into the eyes of the taxing warrior, and yelled:
"Warriors of Tlacopan, you have collected more taxes than the Alliance stipulates. Prince Tlacopan is a sensible person and will never stand on the opposite side of the Alliance. His original intention was just to collect one more tax in the end. Tax, but you took this opportunity to exploit and drive the village to a dead end. How stupid!"
The taxing warrior was stunned when he heard this. Captured by Shulot's momentum, he took a slight step back and waved his hand to stop the warrior who was about to attack. Then, he carefully looked up and down at the young man in front of him. Although he was wearing the robe of a low-level priest, he had a majestic and delicate face, as well as an inexplicable temperament.
He was slightly frightened and asked hesitantly: "Excuse me, who are you?"
Shulot ignored it and just continued to scold: "Who can you hide this kind of thing from? Once the alliance and the prince confront each other, have you ever thought about the consequences?! Are you prepared to use your own head to calm the anger of the royal family? ?!"
Upon hearing this, the taxing warrior's face turned blue and white. With this tone and knowledge, he was sure that the person in front of him was a big shot. Immediately, he looked at the young man's age again and recalled the venerable man of this age. After a moment, he finally remembered something in shock.
He quickly looked at the young man again, and then glanced at the long bow behind Bertard, then no longer hesitated and quickly asked the warriors to put away their weapons. Then, he knelt down on his knees in front of Shulot and bowed to the ground respectfully.
"It is the great and wise His Highness the Divine Enlightenment who is here! I was really blind just now and did not recognize His Highness's true face. Being able to hear His Highness's teachings with my own ears is as honored as meeting a god!"
Shulot was slightly startled, "God-enlightened one"? Where did this title come from? He had no time to think about it, he just looked at the taxing warrior in front of him coldly.
"You recognize me?"
"Reporting to Your Highness, when you and the priests and elders bid farewell to the prince at Changqiao not long ago, I happened to be accompanying you. It is a great honor to be able to see your flower-like face from a distance!"
This time, the taxing samurai admired him sincerely.
Shulot's face darkened. However, in this era, people did like to use flowers to praise samurai. In people's hearts, flowers are the beauty of both men and women, and they are more inclined to strong men.
Shulot said no more. He imitated the elder's emotionless gaze.
"Since you can accompany the prince, you should know the pros and cons. Go back!"
The taxing warrior took another step back due to the glare. But he hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Your Highness, you don't need anything else. But the tortillas and cotton cloth are the prince's responsibility. I have to take them back to deliver."
Shulot looked at the taxing warrior with majestic eyes. He pressed his eyes for a moment before speaking again.
Gillim suddenly stepped forward at this time. He has been watching all this with a smile from behind. Until he saw some young cotton-armor warriors. After hearing the conversation, he took out his war stick again in dissatisfaction.
"Okay. You can go." Gillim smiled slightly, but took a deep look at the taxing warrior and took note of his face.
Immediately, the chief intelligence officer turned to look at Shulot and whispered.
"Prince Tlacopan just surrendered to the royal family not long ago, so there is no need to start disputes over these trivial matters. I will reduce or reduce the tribute from this village this year."
Shulot nodded slightly, and then waved his hand majestically to the taxing warrior.
The taxing warrior paid homage once again, and then hurriedly led the angry taxing team and fled without looking back. They took away the same number of corn tortillas and cotton cloth as in previous years. But this time twice as many people came, and most of the cotton-armored warriors did not get the expected harvest.
The village priest then pulled the village elder forward and bowed respectfully to say hello.
Shulot comforted the village elder. Just now I asked the village priest seriously.
"Behind you is the priesthood of the Alliance, the supreme divine power. Why are you so weak against these taxing teams?"
The village priest replied with a wry smile.
"Dear priests. Although the priesthood's divine power is powerful, it can't help much in this village. The tax collection team of the local nobles is lawless, and the lords are the kings of the village.
If I push too hard, I will have to sacrifice myself to the gods here. At that time, the villagers in the village should not dare to tell the truth. And if the nobles reported that they fell into the water or were attacked by coyotes, the matter would be over. "
Shulot was paused upon hearing this. He fell into deep thought. Obviously, his previous assumptions were too simple. If the village priest wants to compete with the local nobles for control of the village, he cannot do so without the support of force.
Most village priests are selected from their own villages, and their attitude is indeed in opposition to the local nobles. But if they want them to play a practical role, they must provide some weapons and equipment and personnel guidance, and mobilize, train and control the militia. Let them have the most basic force support at the local level.
Then, established temple guards should be placed at key nodes to support village priests in a timely manner and intimidate surrounding nobles. The initial run is the hardest. Once the whole system is truly functioning, the power of the priests will continue to increase, while the power of the nobles will gradually weaken until a new balance is established.
Shulot nodded slowly. He asked in a deep voice.
"That makes sense. Very clever. What's your name?"
The white-clothed priest smiled in surprise, revealing the weathered face of a middle-aged man.
"Dear Priest, I am Bravo of Tlacopan, and I am willing to serve you."
Obviously, a village priest of this age must be a commoner.
Shulot nodded slowly. He didn't say anything else, he just silently wrote down Bravo's name, and with the slightly disappointed look in his eyes, he and Gillim returned. After returning, he will investigate the situation of this priest.
The sun has set in the west. The group did not stay in the village, but with the village leader's gratitude, they boarded the boat and headed for the capital city on the lake.
When boating on Lake Texcoco, the sun is brilliant golden and the lake is full of gorgeous waves. Shulot looked at the capital in the lake from a distance, but found that the majesty of the capital was just a faint ripple here, and could not shine like sunlight on the valley.
Just like the power of the royal family, it stops outside the fiefdom of the nobles.
Shulot looked carefully at the distant capital city in the lake light for a while, and then slowly looked at Gillim.
"What privileges do the nobles of the Alliance have?"
Gilliam looked solemn. He thought for a moment before answering seriously.
"The hereditary nobles are completely autonomous, and the fiefs are hereditary. The population of the fiefs does not pay taxes and does not bear corvee services. Tributes are provided once a year, and the king needs to give back. In wartime, private armies are provided, but the children of the great nobles serve as military officers. The fiefdom merchants are levied independently. Taxes and private foreign trade are allowed. Except for the fact that the great nobles have no diplomatic power, they are almost the king of the fiefdom. The royal nobles are equivalent to the hereditary nobles, but the king is the elder of the royal family and has natural management rights."
"The small nobles with military merits are partially autonomous, and the fief can only inherit part of it. The population of the fief is partly responsible for taxes and corvees, and a tribute is paid once a year. Whether to give back depends on the king's preference. In wartime, he participates in military service and at least serves as a grassroots officer. The fief does not include cities and has no business. Taxes are also allowed for foreign trade, with priority given to royal caravans. The greatest control the royal family has over minor nobles is the inheritance of fiefdoms."
"The royal family needs to know that it is easy for small nobles to be promoted, but it is difficult for large nobles to be demoted. Hereditary rewards must be given with caution!"
Finally, Gillim looked solemn, bowed his head in salute, and recited a royal injunction.
Shulot nodded slightly and returned the gift seriously. He said nothing. Gilliam also stopped talking. The two watched the capital city in the lake getting closer. Under the shining of the setting sun, the white stone city is so majestic, and the twin temples are so majestic and tall!
The young man's eyes gradually glowed with light, and his thoughts followed the light, crossing time and space.
Royal power and divine power are quietly standing in the capital of the Mexica people. They are waiting and looking forward to the future that is destined to shine in the world!
"Even though the road is still long, I am there."
