Chapter 115

The Wind of Harvest

 

Agatha

Like the previous year, this year's harvest season was also late, but it was slowly inching closer. The cool wind from the northwest, beyond the mountain separating Nicopola and the Great Plains of Lowlandia, began to make its presence felt. Even during midday, one could easily notice the subtle change in the air.

Instead of a relaxed atmosphere, the farmers of South Hill were laboring hard in the fields. Despite the late harvest, the lack of manpower due to the failed campaign against Korelia had left them ill-prepared. Worse, the Lord's men were forcing them to prioritize work on the communal land, which yielded crops belonging to the Lord and his cohorts.

The situation was dire until a short battle drastically altered the region's political landscape. Overnight, a new name emerged as the Lord of South Hill.

This change in power came as a surprise, but the new Lord immediately worked to pacify the region. As the victor and new Lord, he could have easily confiscated any land and wealth he wanted, using any pretext he liked. However, he ultimately refrained from doing so. Instead, he opted to engage in trade rather than demanding food for his large army.

For the villagers, Lord Lansius' arrival was a bittersweet moment. Along with him came two hundred men who had been freed from Korelia. Their return provided much-needed relief to the community. Through their stories, the villagers, including Agatha, learned about the fate of their relatives who had been captured.

These men shared that those from South Hill who had been captured were treated fairly in their captivity. While it would be years before they could return, their situation was deemed far better than being sold into slavery.

Unfortunately, those who returned also confirmed many deaths. A large number had perished during their hasty retreat to the Great Plains. Many became widowed, old parents were left childless, and brothers mourned their siblings.

Such was the harsh reality of war in Lowlandia. However, instead of being drowned in mourning, those who survived carried on with their lives.

Yet, as Agatha had witnessed, life also brought unexpected helping hands. The farming communities around South Hill were greatly surprised when Lord Lansius, for this year, exempted them from obligatory work on the communal land.

Confusion and disbelief initially surrounded the policy, but these were swiftly resolved as the Lord himself visited the villages and gave his words of assurance.

His benevolent policy and personal approach quickly made him popular. Although some held him responsible for the loss of their loved ones in the Battle of Korelia, the majority were inclined to support his nascent rule.

With the new policy in effect, the farmers could focus on their crops. However, this change also brought an unexpected development.

The Lord was bringing in his men, the Nicopolans, to work on the communal land. Each village received dozens of men, who would pitch tents, live in barns, and work alongside the villagers.

Despite giving them a warm welcome, the communities had mixed feelings. While they appreciated the Nicopolans, who would tend the communal fields in their stead, there was suspicion that this arrangement might be a ploy to claim a share of the villagers' crops as payment for their help.

Such suspicion was not exaggerated, as it had been common for Lowlandia Lords to station troops in villages and demand food in exchange for 'protection'.

However, these doubts dissipated when the villagers observed the Lord regularly supplying his men with provisions from the City, including a bounty of meat from hunting expeditions. Moreover, the Nicopolans gladly shared, bartered, or traded what they had with the community.

With no remaining suspicions and only some lingering fear, the villagers found no reason not to accept the Nicopolans fully. After all, it was easier for them to trust a third party than the Lord of Korelia. Even those who had lost loved ones and harbored resentment towards the Lord couldn't extend their bitterness to the Nicopolans, who had caused them no harm.

With the Nicopolans' assistance, the villages and farms buzzed with activity. Weeding the farms to remove grass was the top priority, followed by fixing wooden fences around the fields to deter animals from the forest. Scarecrows were also erected in many places, while another group actively hunted rodents and pests.

In the village center, the communal granary underwent repairs in preparation for the upcoming harvest. The area designated for drying grains was also cleaned and maintained as needed.

At first, the Nicopolans worked only on the communal farm, but they were ready to extend their help to anyone in need. The Lord only required the person in need, along with the village chief, to formally register their request for assistance. He would then, through his lieutenant, assign his men to help on the designated farm. If necessary, additional men could be requested.

In exchange for this assistance, the Lord asked for a percentage of the yield as payment, which was certainly fairer than a failed harvest.

The Nicopolans' presence also solved many problems unrelated to the harvest. Streams were cleaned, wells repaired, and trees obstructing roads were chopped down.

Some of the Nicopolans were sophisticated, educated city folk. Thus, some were able to help with carpentry, masonry, and even mending clothes. Some taught basic calculations and alphabets in their spare time.

A few respectable individuals shone as informal leaders, helping to organize work and other events as necessary. Because of their involvement, several troublemakers were conscripted into the army. This deterred more youths from following in their footsteps.

In another case, the wolf pack that had been troubling the villages was driven deeper into the woods after an elaborate ambush.

Everywhere Agatha looked when she returned home from her training was progress and improvement. She had never seen her village so ready for harvest. For the first time, the fences were in good shape, the fields cleared of grass, and there were new scarecrows that could move their limbs at the slightest touch of wind.

The roads were now wide and clear of potholes, allowing carts to travel fast and without fear. The forest too had become a haven for gathering wild berries and firewood. She never expected that Lord Lansius was able to bring about so much change in such a short time.

People she met on the road appeared happy. Even her parents were smiling, grateful for the two new scythes loaned by the new City Council. Agatha was relieved to see that things had turned out so well for her village. She came home to friends, relatives, and parents who, for the first time in a long while, dared to believe there was more to life than just toiling endlessly to enrich the nobles.

 

***

 

Lansius

One week had passed since Lansius' meeting with the grain merchant. As he had predicted, the market responded well to the news that he was purchasing winter wheat seed. The merchants, initially surprised, also reacted positively to his intention to provide the seeds to the peasantry without charge.

Because of these developments, the grain price dropped two notches. The market was confident that South Hill peasants would plant their winter wheat.

Despite Lansius' upcoming campaign to Umberland, the introduction of winter wheat led most merchants to expect a steady grain supply in the region throughout the next year, thus diminishing any incentive to hoard.

However, Lansius wasn't going to gamble with the merchants' speculative tendencies. Furthermore, the grain price issue was just one among a myriad of other challenges that he needed to address before the South Hill region could be deemed secure.

Thus, in the privacy of the Council Room, Lansius summoned his staff to discuss their situation.

"The question is: how to secure South Hill without leaving a large garrison," Lansius asked his staff.

Audrey remained sitting and listening, Sir Harold pondered with arms crossed, while Dietrich was observant but quiet.

It was Sigmund who pondered, "Without a large garrison. Is it even wise?"

"It is if we could," Lansius replied, leaning back in his seat.

"It's unfortunate that we can't rely on our cavalry as quick reinforcement," Audrey lamented.

"Indeed, South Hill is far from Korelia, also having no direct route but to pass through the Three Hills region. Even with a horse relay, a message will need at least 7 days to reach Korelia, and then another 9 or 11 days to reach South Hill with an all-cavalry force."

Sir Harold drew a sharp breath. "11 days of rapid march through the Great Plains. Unless they're nomads, the riders will be too tired to fight upon arrival."

"Indeed, that is a correct assessment," Lansius confirmed.

"Can't we use the nomads as a quick reaction force?" Audrey asked.

Lansius let out a stiff smile. "We can, but their numbers aren't that big either. Also, I don't want to use the nomads in South Hill as there are frictions between them."

"Frictions?" Audrey furrowed her brow.

"My lady, many from South Hill who were routed in the Battle of Korelia died in the Great Plains while on the run from the nomads," Sigmund replied.

"Ah, why didn't I think of that?" Audrey remarked.

As the discussion slowed down, Dietrich asked, "A question, My Lord. Just how many men do you think are needed to keep South Hill from rebelling?"

Lansius pondered for a bit before answering, "Aside from fifty in the castle, perhaps two to three hundred would be prudent."

His staff reacted by sighing or nodding deeply.

"Is such a large number really necessary, My Lord?" Dietrich asked again.

"Two or three times the size of an army that the rebels could raise is the norm," Lansius explained. "The City has close to four thousand people, while the surrounding villages have another thousand or two. Theoretically, someone with charisma and gold might convince a percentage to rebel."

Sir Harold looked at Dietrich. "What the Lord said is true. Remember that Omin started as a knight and only had clout with a dozen guards. But he managed to convince the commoners and organized a successful coup."

Dietrich nodded thoughtfully.

"Losing three hundred of our force seems large, and it'll hurt us in our next campaign, but since we have so many... Can't we afford that?" Audrey tried to suggest.

Lansius gazed at her with a small grin. "That is true, we have two thousand men. But remember, they are Nicopolans."

Audrey seemed to realize her error and massaged her head.

Lansius continued, "While the Nicopolans, especially Servius and his band, are loyal to our cause, the rest have only followed us due to their need for food. Thus, I have no confidence in their loyalty, especially in my absence."

The council chamber turned quiet, only the occasional wind from the tight vertical window was heard in the background.

"So, we can't rely on our cavalry or our allies at all. Then we are truly in a predicament," Audrey lamented.

Lansius smiled and leaned forward, "What if I tell you there's a way to raise a large number of armed men who are obedient to your cause and don't cost you money to feed, to arm, or to maintain?"

His words attracted everyone's attention.

"Is it even possible?"

"Such a grand plan will certainly require a lot of time, and at most, we only have two weeks before harvest."

"Oh, but the plan is already ongoing," Lansius revealed, much to his staff's astonishment and skepticism.

Sigmund finally spoke up, "My Lord, is such a grand plan possible without our knowledge? Surely, we would have noticed such an undertaking."

Lansius' smile widened. "But Sigmund, you are the one who completed the preliminary stages."

 

***

 

South Hill City

The next morning, Sigmund and his guardsmen, returned to the market once again. The people on the market welcomed the officials' arrival and quickly gathered into a crowd. Everyone, from the common folk to the rich, followed, all looking expectantly.

Sigmund climbed the steps of the wooden platform and gazed at the crowd looking at him intensely. The market had come to a standstill.

"Hear ye, hear ye," Sigmund addressed the crowd. "Today, under the command of the new City Council, I bring you a series of decrees."

The crowd gasped when they saw that Sigmund was holding a stack of parchment, each sealed with wax. Anticipation was running high.

"The City Council decrees: Whoever assisted the City in harvesting, collecting, and storing grains safely and timely for seven days without fail, will receive no toll, market levies and tax for the next year."

Upon hearing this, everyone cheered loudly, looking around in excitement. Many were seasonal laborers who were more than able to help. In fact, they had always wanted to help, but for years the villagers had so little to offer that such arrangements couldn't happen. Nobody wanted to work for minimal gains.

But now, the Lord was offering them tax exemption for the next year. This meant that traveling merchants could journey without paying tolls, peddlers could vend their goods free from levies, and shopkeepers were exempted from market taxes.

"There's more," Sigmund declared as his men nailed the first parchment to the wooden board post.

Hearing this, the crowd momentarily subdued their celebration, eager to hear more.

"The City Council also decrees: Price manipulation is a serious crime. Therefore, all involved, nobles or commoners alike will be imprisoned in the dungeon for a minimum of one year. Furthermore, half of their family wealth will be confiscated."

There were murmurs of disbelief but they knew that the new Council was committed to their word, no matter how absurd it sounded.

Sigmund continued, "Any crimes related to grains and food that harm the common good will be punished with one year of hard labor on the communal land."

His men took another parchment from Sigmund and nailed it to the wooden board post.

"The City Council decrees: Should a coup arise against House Lansius, the perpetrator henceforth loses their noble status. As such, any commoner or peasant can capture them, with a bounty of ten gold coins for a knight, two gold coins for a squire, and ten silver for each man. The bounty can be shared."

The crowd recoiled at the announcement, but instead of fear, they were thrilled by the prospect of a large reward, enough to propel them into landowners. They also welcomed the possibility of participating in preventing a coup.

Sigmund continued, "In light of the previous decree, the new City Council allows each household with an untarnished name to possess two spears or one crossbow."

The crowd turned ecstatic. The previous Lord had been so fearful of his own people that even daggers were confiscated upon entering the town. Now, the Council permitted them to arm themselves, providing them leverage against troublesome nobles.

"Furthermore, when harvest is done, the City Council, on behalf of the Lord and Lady, wishes to invite everyone to a festival. Everyone who wishes the Lady well will receive two mugs of ale and a copper coin."

The people cheered loudly, praising the Lord and Lady in unison. The last decree was as good as offering free ales and a large meal to everyone who came. Knowing the City Council's reputation for keeping their word, the people were overjoyed.

As Sigmund concluded his announcements and his men nailed up the final parchment, a spontaneous celebration erupted in the market. Despite the early hour, the scent of ale filled the air as the crowd celebrated.

Ten days later, in the second month of Autumn 4425, South Hill finally welcomed its late harvest. Despite considerable effort and rising anticipation, the harvest results had proved to be marginal, if not slightly better than modest. Each grain had yielded just over half its potential.

Once again, the climate and weather, untamable as ever, had asserted their supremacy in dictating the results of human labor. The winds of uncertainty quietly swept through the region.

 

***