The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 32 The Merchant of Akka

The sun in Acre always carries the roughness of sea salt, scorching the densely packed rooftops and bustling streets of the port area.

Inside the accounting office of a stone shop in Acre, facing the port, with the sign reading "Robert Building Materials" in Latin, Greek, and Arabic, all was silent except for the scratching of a quill pen against papyrus and the occasional clanging of abacus beads, tinged with suppressed anger.

Robert, the shop owner, a Lombard merchant in his forties, with yellowish-white skin and a thick, wild beard, was staring intently at the pile of new-style account books on the table. His brow was furrowed, as if he were reading not numbers, but a heretical cursed text.

"Absurd! Utterly absurd!" He finally couldn't help but slam the bronze paperweight on the table with a "bang," startling Theodore, the young apprentice who was checking a bundle of Eastern spices in the corner.

"Sir?" Theodore looked up and adjusted his tortoiseshell glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose.

"Look at this, Theodore!" Robert pointed sharply at the newly added columns in the ledger—"Raw Material Purchases," "Labor Costs," "Warehousing and Transportation," "Value Added," and "Taxes Payable."

"We're doing business, not copying the Bible for Earl Jocelyn's scribe! It took us two whole days just to figure out how much it cost to get these Lebanese cedars from felling to warehouse! Doesn't the accountant's salary count as cost? Doesn't his food allowance count?"

He grew increasingly agitated, standing up and pacing around the room, which was covered with an old Persian carpet: "And this 'added value'! God help me, how am I supposed to know how much the 'added value' of a single beam I sold actually increased? Am I supposed to put a price tag on every single piece of wood? This isn't taxation, this is torture!"

Theodore listened silently to his master's roar, and only when his breathing calmed down did he slowly speak: "Sir, complaining won't change the numbers on the abacus. I've done the calculations. Based on the marble we brought in from Tripoli last month, if we followed the old method, with customs duties and transaction taxes, we would have to pay about seventy-three dinars. But now..." He flipped through the ledger, pointing to the last line, "According to this 'value-added tax,' we only need to pay... fifty-one dinars and eight dirhams."

Robert stopped pacing. He turned abruptly, almost snatching the ledger from Theodore's hand, his sharp gaze sweeping over the numbers.

"How much? Are you sure you didn't miscalculate?"

“I’ve calculated it three times, sir.” A glint of shrewdness flashed in Theodore’s cloudy eyes. “Because when we bought that batch of marble, the seller was eager to get rid of it and drove the price down very low. And after we processed and polished it in Acre, it just so happened that the church was being renovated, and we sold it for a good price. The ‘added value’ in between… is indeed considerable, but after deducting all the costs we can think of, the tax base is actually lower than the total price.”

Robert fell silent. He walked back to his large oak desk, sat down heavily, and unconsciously tapped his fingers on the surface. He realized that this new tax system was a double-edged sword; it was indeed troublesome, but it also seemed to hold some kind of opportunity that he had not yet fully grasped.

"What was that tax collector's name again?" he suddenly asked. "When he came to give his presentation yesterday, did he mention that if we own our own raw material sources, like a quarry, then the mining costs can be fully deducted?"

"That's what he said, sir."

Robert's eyes narrowed, like a cheetah spotting its prey. He remembered the small quarry outside the city, belonging to a bankrupt old nobleman—a remote, poorly managed, and perpetually struggling operation that he had previously completely disregarded. But now…

"Prepare the horses," he stood up abruptly, his tone resolute. "I'm going to see that bankrupt old knight. Theodore, you continue the calculations, calculate the accounts for all our major goods using both the old and new methods! I need to know which deals we lost money on and which we gained."

A month later, Robert returned to his trading company and sat in his accounting office, but the atmosphere was completely different from before.

On the table lay the same troublesome new ledger, but beside it was a roll of parchment—the deed for the transfer of the quarry outside the city. Robert didn't look at the ledger; instead, he stood by the window, a glass of deep red Cypriot wine in hand, gazing at the sailboats coming and going in the harbor. His face no longer held anger and confusion, but rather an expression of excitement and deep thought.

Theodore walked in with a rare smile on his face.

"Sir, the preliminary calculations are in. Since we took over the quarry, we've been mining, processing, and selling the stone through our own channels... Although the initial investment was huge due to the restructuring of the quarry and hiring new workers, last month, the overall tax burden on the stone was nearly 30% lower than when we purchased stone from external sources."

"Thirty percent..." Robert repeated the number softly, taking a sip of his drink. He turned around, his gaze intense. "Theodore, have you noticed? This new tax system forces you to grow your business bigger and more standardized. Small businesses can be crushed by the cost of bookkeeping alone. But if you have the ability to integrate the upstream and downstream, and control more aspects of the business, you can find... room for maneuver in the tax system."

He walked to the table and picked up a draft cooperation agreement he had just prepared to send to several familiar timber merchants. "I plan to sign long-term supply agreements with them to stabilize our timber supply. Clear accounts, stable cooperation—even the Venetian bankers are more willing to provide us with loans now." He paused, his tone carrying a hint of astonishment, as if he had discovered a new continent. "Now I understand Count Jocelyn's intentions a little better. Tsk tsk, how did he come up with such an astonishing method?"

He suddenly recalled a casual conversation he had with a municipal official's subordinate a few days ago, in which the official had vaguely mentioned that Earl Jocelyn seemed to have a new interest in irrigation and wasteland reclamation around Acre, and was informally seeking opinions and looking for suitable partners.

He suddenly realized that this noble Earl Jocelyn was the king's uncle, and whether the reforms he was implementing in Acre were actually the king's will.

"Theodore, prepare the horses, let's go!" Robert felt a surge of unprecedented ambition. "We're going to pay a visit to our noble lord—Earl Jocelyn!"

Robert knew the journey was incredibly risky. But if he was right, if the kingdom's leader truly possessed such vision and courage ahead of his time, then Robert would be more than just a successful businessman in Acre. He might even ride the crest of a wave of change, becoming a renowned new elite throughout Jerusalem and even the Levant.