Arc II - Agrarian Revolution

Chapter 6 - Tabula Rasa

Day 29 Since the Summoning

 

The sun had almost completely set, and outside Alan's window, the entire capital city of Armenas had fallen mostly silent.

Alan lay on his bed with his hands clasped behind his head, simply staring at the ceiling.

'Tomorrow Kamelia is sending town criers to her villages, and in a couple of days, she'll send the recommendations to her vassals. Great... everything is more or less going to plan... if you ignore the fact that I poisoned myself with a mushroom and barely survived, the county is probably on the brink of civil war, and the barons are almost a hundred percent guaranteed to tell Kamelia to go to hell. Just perfect.'

He rolled onto his side.

'And then there are the peasants on those barons' lands... they're just going to be left to starve. They'll reap a miserable harvest at the end of summer, and this winter they'll be left scraping by on absolute jack shit.'

He clenched his fists.

'Or maybe a decree really was the right call? What if they actually didn't want to risk a conflict over it? ...No, stop, you're overthinking it. It's the only way. There's nothing I can do about it. I'm powerless here. I can only help the peasants on Kamelia's lands.'

He got up and walked to the window. The summer moon illuminated the entire city, which was nearly empty save for the occasional townsfolk returning from the taverns and the guards patrolling the streets.

'Regrets won't help... the important thing is that phase one is finally complete. We found something for the peasants to eat for the time being while the harvest is weak. Now for phase two: we have to... somehow launch the four-field system. Kamelia trusts me now, sure... but the peasants won't just agree to it out of nowhere.'

He yawned, his eyelids growing heavy.

'Whatever... I'll think about it tomorrow, and explain how it works to Kamelia.'

He lay back down on the bed.

'Kamelia... hah... what an amazing girl. Three weeks ago, she was beating the living shit out of me, and now she listens to me like a schoolgirl... nothing like a typical aristocrat. Looks like life beat the ego right out of her.'

With those thoughts, he finally closed his eyes.

1 Month Since the Summoning

Alan and Kamelia sat at the same table on the terrace, waiting for Golna to bring the oyre. Alan's hair had grown nearly to his shoulders, thick, golden, and messy. Kamelia studied his face intently for about thirty seconds. "Alan... how old are you, anyway?"

He blinked. "Huh? You're only asking me that now? Seriously?"

She shrugged. "I never really thought about it."

"I'm twenty-two. Why?"

She narrowed her eyes, still studying his face. "You barely grow a beard... that's why I asked. It's just unusual."

Alan ran a hand over his face, where there was only a light, barely noticeable stubble. "Ah, that... yeah, I've never really been able to grow a mustache or a beard." He sighed. "No idea why... Anyway, since we're on the subject, how old are you?"

"I recently turned twenty. So you are older."

Alan waved a hand dismissively. "We're practically the same age, not much of a difference." He touched his hair. "I should probably get it cut, though... it's going to start covering my eyes soon. I assume you have scissors?"

Kamelia nodded. "Of course we do, I can give them to you later."

Golna emerged from the doorway, her wolf tail dragging nearly along the stone floor. She carried a tray with a teapot of oyre and some cups. She set it on the table and gave a quick bow.

"Thank you, Golna," Kamelia said, reaching for the teapot to pour.

Golna's hand, which had been reaching for the teapot herself, froze. She blinked, slowly retracted her hand, and departed.

The countess poured for herself and Alan. "So... we stopped the sickness, found food for the short term, and next, you said... the agrarian revolution?"

Alan nodded. "Exactly. Remember what I told you?"

The girl picked up her cup. "Yes, four equal fields. Turnips, barley, clover, and wheat. Rotate them every year."

"Perfect," Alan said, picking up his own cup. "But... you have to understand, peasants are incredibly stubborn. No one is going to agree to an agrarian revolution right out of the gate."

Kamelia took a sip. "True. People are already terrified of the famine, so they will be even more resistant. Any ideas?"

Alan set his cup down.

'That's the problem, I don't have any. Obviously, no one is going to want to experiment when they're on the brink of starvation. First, we need to convert at least a fraction of the fields to the four-field system, not necessarily all of them at once. We either have to win their trust, or find those who have nothing to lose. Winning their trust... that takes too long. We don't have time. We need to start planning and preparing now so we can launch it in the spring... hah... spring... look at me, being an optimist. That's assuming I even survive until spring and don't get killed by something I don't even know exists yet.'

"We need a village... one that isn't too squeamish about trying new things, and has nothing to lose. Is there a place like that?"

The countess leaned back in her chair. "Hmm... I don't know, really. Everywhere is fully occupied with fields currently being prepped for harvest. There are no free ones."

Alan nodded.

'Of course they're all occupied. What did I expect?'

"Are there any villages without fields?"

Kamelia pondered for about fifteen seconds. "Yes... there are a few. One near the forest, and another at the foot of the mountains. The first mostly does hunting for the county, and the second mines iron."

Alan took a sip of his oyre. "Tell me more about the hunting village."

"It's a village where mostly beastmen live... it's quite isolated from everyone. They don't like outsiders, and..."

"And people don't like beastmen either?" Alan cut her off.

Kamelia paused for a second, then simply nodded.

'Just as I suspected back in the dining hall... beastmen are second-class citizens here. Classic. But why? There has to be a reason.'

"Why is that? Why aren't they liked?"

Kamelia squeezed her cup. "As far as I know, that's mostly only in Groliria and the neighboring kingdoms. According to the chronicles, centuries ago, the beastmen were nomadic tribes from the north. They raided humans and dwarves, plundering and killing. Eventually, they grew weak, and humans conquered their lands... Ever since, beastmen haven't been well-liked. People view them as... wild. They are often insultingly referred to as 'Mireyans,' so if you ever hear that word, know that someone is insulting them."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "Why Mireyans?"

"In honor of the bloodiest ruler of the nomads, Mirey. In his day, he conquered nearly all human lands."

Gothwald fell into thought.

'Well, holy shit... so beastmen used to be the local equivalent of the Mongols? And they even had their own Genghis Khan? Now it makes sense why they're hated... a historical trauma spanning nearly centuries. Which means the beastmen are used to being... well, probably not outright hated, but treated with deep suspicion. This is my target audience. The fact that I'll treat them like normal human beings is already a major plus for me. Second, since they're mostly hunters, they don't have centuries of genetic memory telling them what they can and can't plant. In theory... we can show them a different way to live... but the fact that they have no fields sucks, too. We'll have to plow new ones. Whatever. We've got time.'

"Understood. Then I think we should start the agrarian revolution with this village."

"I'm not so sure," Kamelia said. "Golna is from that village. Why don't we ask her?"

Alan blinked. "Why didn't you say so sooner?! Call her in, of course!"

A minute later, Golna stood before the table, her hands folded. "You called, My Lady?"

Kamelia nodded. "Yes, Alan wishes to speak with you."

The beastman blinked, then slowly turned to Alan, her expression unchanged. "I am listening, Lord Gothwald."

Alan rested his hands on the table. "Kamelia said you are from a beastman hunting village, correct?"

Golna's shoulders tensed slightly. "Yes, my lord... I am from the village of Zoligasha. What did you wish to ask?"

The guy stood up. "Here's the situation, Golna... we're... um..."

"You can tell her, she's trustworthy," Kamelia said, sipping her oyre.

Alan exhaled. "Okay... basically, we are going to introduce a new method of farming. But as you can imagine, regular peasants won't just agree to it. But then there's you, the beastmen, hunters who haven't really done farming before. What I wanted to know is, since you're from... Zoligasha, do you know how they would react to this?"

Golna froze, and then something gleamed in her eyes. "Extremely... extremely well. You see, Lord Gothwald... the people of my village have been tired of hunting for a long time, and they want to farm. But the previous count... he would not permit it... he needed us to hunt... he..."

"He wanted exotic, rare game for his feasts," Kamelia said flatly.

Golna flinched slightly. "Yes... exactly. So the villagers will receive this... very well."

On the outside, Alan simply gave a nod, but inside he was practically doing a victory dance.

'FUCKING JACKPOT! FINALLY, A STREAK OF GOOD LUCK IN THIS HOPELESS SHITHOLE! I thought I'd have to drag them kicking and screaming to accept this reform, but it's way easier than that! If they actually want to farm, things will run smooth as butter! YES, YES, AND YES! Finally, just once, I can plan everything out perfectly without worrying about the goddamn human factor! Bingo! A clean slate... a literal tabula rasa!'

"Hey, Alan, why are you smiling like an idiot?" Kamelia asked.

Alan blinked, realizing he indeed had a stupid grin plastered across his face, and quickly wiped it off. "You just have no idea how lucky we are. This is a massive jackpot, Kamelia! If they want change themselves, everything is going to be so much easier. We won't have to waste a ton of time coaxing, begging, lying, scheming, and all that. We can just tell them exactly what to do."

Kamelia nodded fast. "Yes, I was thinking the same thing."

Golna said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed and her tail swayed gently. "When can we set out for Zoligasha?" she asked.

The countess rose. "We could leave right now, actually. Though... the advisors have been pestering me more and more with questions about where I suddenly keep traveling to, but whatever. They don't need to know."

"Yeah, they can deal with it," Alan said. "How long is the ride to the village?"

"About half a day, maybe less." She turned to Golna. "Go change into something more comfortable."

Golna looked down at her maid uniform, then nodded vigorously. "Yes, My Lady!" and immediately hurried away.

Alan scratched the back of his head. "Why is she so excited?"

The countess was already walking back into the castle. "She hasn't been back to her home village in a year and a half."

"Hmm... I see," Alan muttered, following after her.

An hour later, they were on their way. Alan was riding double with Kamelia as usual, while Golna rode with Lorgi. Behind them were four more guards on horseback. Far to the east, the Southern Mountains loomed, a permanent fixture of their rides across the plains.

"So, what are you going to start with in the village?" Kamelia asked.

Alan looked at the mountains. "What will I start with... First, I guess we should make sure the beastmen actually want to farm. Then we'll see what kind of land we can clear and plow for fields, and after that..." He shook his head. "After that, it doesn't matter. Like a famous fighter from my world once said: everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face."

Lorgi rode up closer. "What was that the fighter said?"

Alan turned to look at him. "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face."

The captain was silent for a few seconds. "Wise words. What was this fighter's name?"

"Mike Tyson."

The man nodded. "A formidable name."

"The words are formidable, too," Kamelia said. "And surprisingly true... I think I'll remember that."

Golna sat quietly in a simple gray travel dress, saying nothing, not even listening. Her gaze was fixed firmly on the road ahead.

As the sun neared the horizon, a forest appeared, with a small village nestled right before it. Golna gripped Lorgi's waist so tightly the captain actually winced.

Alan continued to squirm in the saddle as usual. "Hallelujah... finally, a village. I'm going to..."

"Please, stop talking about... that," Kamelia said.

Alan smirked slightly. "About what?"

The girl pressed her lips together. "You know what."

Alan's grin widened. "No, I don't. Tell me."

"His balls," the captain said with an absolutely deadpan face.

Alan clicked his tongue. "Ah, party pooper... I wanted her to say it. By the way... I've never actually heard you use a vulgar word, Kamelia."

She snorted. "Of course not. No matter how you look at it, I am still a countess."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he muttered under his breath, and then the patrol came to a halt at the edge of the village, and everyone began to dismount.

Golna practically slid off her horse, ready to sprint into the village, but instantly caught herself and held back, though her body trembled slightly.

Kamelia dismounted, looking at Golna, who met her gaze. Five seconds of silence passed. Then the countess simply gave a nod. Golna gave a slight start, bowed far too deeply, and practically ran into the village.

Alan watched the scene.

'Looks like someone is about to have a family reunion... Well, good for her.'

He carefully slid off his horse and walked into the village. It was quite ordinary, wooden huts, roofs covered with pine branches, silhouettes of beastmen in the windows, and animal pelts drying on some of the fences.

'Hmm... and I thought this would be some run-down ghetto. It's just a normal hunting village.'

He stepped around a corner and froze dead in his tracks. "Oh, shit..."

Laying in the yard was the fresh carcass of a jerkos, which several beastmen were actively skinning and butchering. The beast's body was riddled with several arrow holes. One large beastman with bear ears was methodically skinning the jerkos's shaggy hide, working his knife with practiced ease. A second beastman, with ears and a tail resembling a dog's, was slowly slitting the throat of the dead beast with a dagger, a steady stream of dark blood pooling onto the grass.

Alan winced slightly.

'Well... I really should be used to this by now. Middle Ages and all...'

Lorgi and Kamelia simply scanned the area, looking for the village elder. Lorgi's eyes locked onto the butchering of the jerkos, and he raised an eyebrow slightly. "Huh... look at that. They took down a whole jerkos."

Kamelia nodded. "Hunters. Alright, let's go ask them where the elder is."

They started walking over, when suddenly Alan glanced toward the forest. Slipping quietly out of the trees was a creature resembling a cat, about the size of a cheetah, but entirely green. He narrowed his eyes.

'What the hell? A green cat? Wait a second... A SHINNOR!'

"Kamelia! There's a shinnor!"

She whipped around, Lorgi right alongside her. "A nasty opponent..." the captain muttered, his hand instantly wrapping around the hilt of his sword.