Aztec Eternals

The noon sun shines down on the floating fields, allowing the new sprouts of corn to grow. The cool breeze blows across the lake, bringing the moist atmosphere of the soil. The three of them took a small boat and walked through the waterways of Chinanampa. Shulot was wearing ordinary sacrificial robes, and Gilliam was wearing plain clothes. Berthard wore leather armor without patterns and carried a longbow on his back.

Seeing the three of them, the farmers on Chinanpa bowed their heads and saluted. They expressed their sincere respect to Shulot's status as a low-level priest, and then continued their work, planting flowers in the gaps in the floating fields. There was never enough work to be done on Chinanampa.

"The Texcoco Lake District is the foundation of the alliance's governing ministries. Within one or two hundred miles from the capital, there are 1.5 million people living in the Lake District. They are only three to five days away from the capital, so they are called Strict control. There are 50,000 warriors directly under the royal family, and about the same number in the other seven states. Only by relying on the superior strength of the warriors directly under us can we suppress the city-states of the entire alliance."

Gilliam talked about the status quo solemnly, with a trace of solemnity between his brows.

"Since the other seven states can gather 50,000 warriors, then their combined population should 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 unrequited savage tribes in the mountains and forests. After all, the lake area is richer, with a higher proportion of warriors and better equipment. However, the land in the lake area has been developed At the limit, the aqueducts are complete and the population has reached the peak. However, the other seven states still have large tracts of uncultivated land, and canals can be built along the Tampen River and the Leman River to build Chinampa.”

Gilliam seriously recalled the relevant information. As long as the investment is sufficient, the population of the other seven states can grow further. However, the center does not have the motivation 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 the local rulers. The proportion of minor nobles and civilian warriors will basically remain the same."

Shulot pondered slightly. He thought of his family's landholdings in Teotihuacan and made calculations in his mind.

"The big nobles in each city-state occupy 55% of the land, the priests 20%, the minor nobles 15%, and the civilian warriors 10%. The influence is roughly estimated to be 55%, 30%, 10%, 5%, and the force is 20,000. The private army of the great nobles, five thousand temple guards, ten thousand private troops of the minor nobles, and eleven thousand commoner warriors."

"According to the integration of three million people, the influence of the royal family and the government in the alliance is only 18%, the prince 5%, the nobles 40%, the priests 22%, the minor nobles 10%, and the common people 5%."

Shulot was secretly startled. These specific numbers don't mean much, they're just rough estimates. But behind the numbers can reflect the current status of the Mexica Alliance: it is similar to a noble enfeoffment country without a strict hierarchical relationship, or a loose tribal alliance on the Eurasian grassland.

The great aristocrats are surprisingly influential, completely autonomous, and their loyalty fluctuates. And the small nobles often take orders from the local big nobles. In order to suppress the power of nobles in various places, the only way is to expand the power of the royal family, unite priests and commoner warriors, and compete for the support of minor nobles. In order to promote metal tools in the future, we must also give priority to directly subordinate territories and strengthen our core strength.

The atmosphere became dull for a moment. After a while, Gilliam just spoke.

"Not far to the west is the village of Tlacopan. The village is 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 Development."

Shulot nodded happily. He also wants to know more about the village community at the bottom. The small boat rowed through a light arc and headed towards the west bank of the lake at high speed.

The outermost part of the West Bank is also the neatly divided Chinanpa, which belongs to the nobility or royal family. Along the spectacular Prepeca Highlands Canal, there are star-studded villages and continuous farmland on both sides.

Looking at the vast farmland, Gilliam smiled again. In the eyes of the Mexica of this era, they have developed the valley to the extreme.

The slash-and-burn milpa spread across the plains of the valley. Relying on high-yield American crops, Milpa can feed three to five people per hectare, and the yield is even higher than that of the rough dryland farmland in Spain. Although this cannot be compared with Chinanpa, which has 20 people per hectare, it is already a great achievement of the Stone Age.

Shulot sighed slightly. He wasn't satisfied with that. There are huge flaws in current agricultural production. The limited river mud and manure must be given priority to Chinampa floating fields, so Milpa cannot be cultivated continuously and must be fallowed in turns to maintain fertility.

More importantly, without metal tools and large livestock, the most basic and important deep plowing in ancient agriculture would not be possible. Animal power replaced manpower, iron plow replaced wooden plow, and scythe replaced sickle. This is the first cross-generational progress in the history of agriculture, and its significance is even equivalent to the first industrial revolution. Likewise, it was the basis for developing the grassy, ​​deep-rooted Great Plains of North America.

The boat docked on the shore. The three went ashore on foot, followed by four or five warriors. Not far in front of you is a village. In the village community with mud walls and thatched roofs, Xiu Luote actually saw Baishi's strong warehouse and shrine from a distance. Obviously, this village is quite rich. He went to the center of the village community.

Most of the villages in Mexica are still in the stage of tribal communes under public ownership. The four-person group is responsible for the affairs of the village, and a collective storage warehouse and priest shrine are built. Usually there is a team leader for every two hundred people, who is responsible for the food distribution, work assignment and accommodation arrangement of the team. The team leader is also richer, able to support his own warriors to deter and manage the villagers.

Every year from April to June and from August to October is the busy season for farming, which requires collective stone tool labor in the village. The rest of the time is the slack period. It is necessary to make stone tools, weave cotton cloth, grind cornmeal, collect wood, repair houses and warehouses, dig river mud for the lord, build canals and buildings for the alliance, and undertake food transportation and battlefield militia during wartime. .

All in all, in this era, the life of farmers is always endlessly busy, and there is no pastoral leisure at all. Their lives are not their own either.

Before the crowd approached, there was an intense noise from far away, and there was also the bang of long sticks hitting the shield. Bertard's expression changed. He stepped forward quickly, blocking Xiulot behind him. Gilliam also looked solemn.

The three of them passed through the thatched hut, and saw a tax collector wearing 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 white-clothed village priest with an anxious expression who kept arguing.

Nearly a hundred cotton armor warriors are looting the warehouse in the center of the village and nearby houses, and it seems that they are collecting tribute. Some of them were carrying corn tortillas, some were carrying cotton cloths, some were dragging turkeys, rabbits and domestic dogs, and some were even carrying all kinds of pottery and stone tools. From time to time, samurai swung their batons and shields, intimidating villagers who tried to hinder them. The rest of the people were happily busy and smiling.

On the outskirts, less than ten civilian warriors led hundreds of village men, holding crude weapons, and gathered together in fear and anger.

Xiulot quickly counted, there are four groups of cotton armor warriors present, with 80 people. This is a force that no single village can resist. Even with the richness of the lake area, after paying the tribute, a village of a thousand people can only support less than ten full-time warriors, plus hundreds of village men, it can 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 80 people is generally rare, because the samurai will always obtain additional income of their own, causing 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 stepped forward quickly, towards the taxing warrior at the head.

"...Honorable Prince Tracopan will collect this year's tribute! Everyone must obey the order of the alliance! As a village priest, you must also obey the lord of the village, the great Prince Tracopan!"

The taxing samurai looked fierce. He struck the shield with his club, intimidating the village priests who still pestered him. This kind of priest from this village has always been annoying, and his status is special, so it is not easy to do it directly. As for the elders of the village who were kneeling and pleading, he didn't even bother to take a look.

"Master Samurai. Every year, our tribute is paid according to the standard of the alliance. Why is there so much more this year! The village can't afford it, so I beg you to reduce it!"

The priest in white bowed his head deeply, grabbed the arm of the taxing warrior, and begged in a low voice.

The taxing samurai frowned. Impatiently, he pushed the white-clothed priest away, and shouted loudly.

"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 you have to pay it all at once! The laws of the alliance have always been like this, and the nobles of Tracopan follow this Standard! Huh? If you don't believe me, you can go to Tracopan and ask now!"

There are no words and decrees, and it is not up to the nobles to decide how much to charge. How could the priest in white leave now. All he could do was plead again and again, hoping for a kindness that didn't exist in the taxing samurai.

Bertard strode forward. With a calm face, suppressed anger in his eyes, he asked in a deep voice.

"The new year hasn't started yet. The date for the alliance to collect tribute has not yet arrived, why are you collecting taxes now?!"

The taxing warrior looked up and down at Bertard's plain attire, and didn't care at first. Then seeing his walking posture, his pupils shrank. Finally, the longbow behind him stayed for a moment, and finally showed contempt.

"Huh? Where did the wild samurai come from, and they still use despicable weapons like bows and arrows! Of course, Prince Tracopan has the final say on when to collect taxes. You can also doubt the prince's order? Get out of here!"

As he spoke, he swung his baton, and several warriors quickly gathered around him, half-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. You are taking away the excess taxes in advance, are you handing them over to the alliance? When the new year begins, 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 astonishment, and then quickly told the news to the warriors and strong men in the village.

The village samurai who were trying to endure it could not bear it any longer. They shouted loudly, and the armed men also boiled. The crowd brandished their weapons, boldly stepped forward to each other, and approached the cotton-armoured warriors who were also brandishing their weapons, seeing that conflicts and killings were imminent.

A fierce gleam flashed in the tax warrior's eyes. He made a gesture to the left and right, and rushed towards Bertard full of killing intent.

Xiulot had been watching calmly, and only now nodded to the followers, and then moved forward boldly. A follower took out a rare horn bestowed by the elders and blew it loudly. The deep and deep voice resounded throughout the world, and everyone immediately paused and looked at it together.

Xiulot had a majestic expression, with the unique aura of a superior. He calmly walked to the center of the crowd, stared into the eyes of the taxing warrior, and shouted loudly:

"Samurai of Tracopan, you have collected more taxes than the Union stipulates. The Prince of Tracopan is a man of knowledge and will never stand against the Union. His intention is only to overcharge one last time Taxes, but you took this opportunity to exploit and drive the village to the brink of death. How stupid!"

The taxing samurai was taken aback when he heard this. Captured by Shulot's aura, he took half a step back and waved his hand to stop the warrior who was about to strike. Then, he carefully looked up and down the young man in front of him. Although he wore the robe of a low-level priest, he had a majestic and delicate face, and an inexplicable aura.

He was slightly apprehensive, and asked hesitantly, "Who is your Excellency?"

But Xiulot ignored it, and just continued to scold: "Who can you hide from this kind of thing you did? Once the alliance and the prince confront each other, have you ever thought about the consequences?! You are going to use your own head to appease the royal family's anger ?!"

Hearing this, the tax collector's face turned blue and pale. With this tone and insight, he was sure that he was in front of a big man. Immediately, he looked at the boy's age again, and recalled the Venerable at this age. After a while, he finally remembered something in shock.

He quickly looked at the young man again, and then glanced at the longbow behind Bertard, and without hesitation, he quickly asked the warriors to put away their weapons. Afterwards, he knelt down on both knees towards Shulot, and bowed respectfully to the ground.

"It turns out that His Highness, the great and wise 'God Enlightener', is here! I was so blind just now that I didn't recognize His Highness's true face. It is an honor to be able to hear His Highness's teaching with my own ears, as if meeting a god!"

Shulot was slightly taken aback, "God-inspired"? Where did this appellation come from? He didn't have 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 Longqiao not long ago, I happened to accompany you. It is a great honor to be able to see your beautiful face like a flower from a distance!"

This time, the taxing samurai admired him sincerely.

Shulot's face darkened. In this day and age, though, people did love to honor warriors with flowers. In people's hearts, flowers are the beauty of both men and women, and they are more inclined to strong men.

Xiulot said no more. He imitated the emotionless gaze of the elder.

"Since you can serve the prince, you should know the pros and cons. Go back!"

The taxing samurai took another step back, stunned by the gaze. But after hesitating for a moment, he still spoke.

"Your Highness, you don't need anything else. But the cornbread and cotton cloth are the prince's orders, and I have to take them back."

Shulot looked majestically at the taxing warrior. He pressed his gaze for a moment, then was about to speak again.

Gilliam stepped forward suddenly. He has been watching all this from behind with a smile. Until he saw some young cotton-armored warriors, after hearing the conversation, he took out his baton again in dissatisfaction.

"Okay. You can go." Gilliam smiled slightly, but only took a few deep glances at the taxing warrior, and took note of his face.

Immediately, the chief intelligence officer turned his head to look at Shulot and said in a low voice.

"Prince Tracopan just lost his sincerity to the royal family not long ago, so there is no need to have disputes over these trivial matters. I will reduce the tribute to this village this year."

Shulot nodded slightly, and then he waved his hand majestically at the taxing warrior.

The tax-collecting samurai paid homage again, and then hurriedly led the still angry tax-collecting team and fled without looking back. They took the same number of tortillas and cotton cloths as in previous years. But this time twice as many people came, and most of the cotton armor warriors did not get the expected harvest.

Only then did the village priest pull the village elder forward, saluted respectfully and said hello.

Xiulot comforted the elders of the village. Just now seriously asked the village priest.

"Behind you are the Priests of the Alliance, the supreme theocracy. Why are these taxing teams so weak?"

The village priest replied with a wry smile.

"My lord priest. Although the divine authority of the priesthood is powerful, it is of little help in this village. The tax collection team of the local nobles is lawless, and the lords are the kings of the village.

If I'm in a hurry, I have to sacrifice myself for the gods here. At that time, the villagers in the village should not dare to report the truth. And the nobles report a fall into the water or a coyote attack, and the matter is over. "

Shulot paused when he heard the words. He fell into deep thought. Obviously, his previous idea was still too simple. The village priest wants to compete with the local nobles for the control of the village, and it is absolutely impossible without the support of force.

Most village priests are selected from their own villages, and their standpoint is indeed naturally opposed to the local nobles. But if they want to play a practical role, they must provide some weapons and equipment and personnel guidance to launch, train and master the militia. Let them have the most basic force support in the local area.

Then, it is necessary to place an established temple guard at key nodes, which can support village priests in time and deter surrounding nobles. The first run is the hardest. Once the whole system is really working, the power of the priests will continue to increase, while the power of the nobles will be gradually weakened until a new balance is established.

Shulot nodded slowly. He asked in a deep voice.

"Makes sense. Clever. What's your name?"

Only then did the white-clothed priest smile in surprise, revealing the weathered face of a middle-aged man.

"Dear Priest, I am Bravo of Tracopan, and I am willing to serve you."

Obviously, the village priest at this age must be a commoner.

Shulot nodded slowly. He didn't say anything else, but silently wrote down Bravo's name, and in the slightly disappointed eyes of the other party, he returned with Gilliam. After returning, he will investigate the priest's situation.

The sun has gone westward. The group did not stay in the village, but with the gratitude of the village leader, they boarded a small boat and went to the capital city in 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 city in the lake, but found that the magnificence of the capital city was just a little bit of waves here, and it couldn't fall on the valley like the sun.

Just like the power of the royal family, it stops outside the fiefdom of the nobles.

Shulot carefully looked at the distant capital in the lake for a while, and then slowly looked at Gilliam.

"What privileges do the nobles of the alliance have?"

Gilliam looked grave. He pondered for a moment before answering seriously.

"The hereditary nobles are completely self-governing, and the fiefs are hereditary. The people in the fiefs do not pay taxes and do not undertake corvee service. Tributes are provided once a year, and the king needs to reward them. Private troops are provided during wartime, but the children of the great nobles serve as the chief officers of the army. The fiefdoms are collected independently by merchants. Taxation, private foreign trade is allowed. Aside from having no diplomatic power, the great nobles are almost the kings of the fiefs. The royal nobles are equivalent to hereditary nobles, but the king is the elder of the royal family and has natural management rights."

"Military meritorious nobles are partly self-governing, and the fiefdom can only be inherited. The fief population is partly responsible for taxes and corvee, and the tribute is paid once a year. Whether it is rewarded depends on the king's preference. In wartime, he will serve in the military and participate in the war, at least as a grassroots officer. The fief does not include cities, and there is no business. Taxes and foreign trade are also allowed, and royal family caravans have priority. The greatest control of the royal family over small nobles is the inheritance of fiefdoms."

"The royal family needs to know that the small nobles are easy to be promoted, but the big nobles are hard to demote. Hereditary awards must be cautious!"

Finally, Gilliam looked solemn, bowed his head, and read a royal injunction.

Xiulot nodded slightly and returned the salute seriously. He said nothing. Gilliam also said nothing. The two watched the capital city in the lake gradually approaching. Under the shining of the setting sun, the white stone city is so majestic and magnificent, and the great temple of Gemini is so majestic and tall!

The young man's eyes gradually flowed with brilliance, and his thoughts disappeared with the light, spanning time and space.

Kingship and theocracy are quietly standing in the capital of the Mexica. They are waiting and looking forward to the future that is destined to shine in the world!

"Even though, the road is still long, but there is me."

Dazhang asks for a recommendation.