Chapter 117

The Lord's Grain Gambit

 

South Hill

It was still some time before the sun reached its zenith when the Lord and Lady, accompanied by their entourage, arrived at the City Granary, situated a fair distance from the market. The caretaker of the place was taken aback by their visit.

The sudden activities and sightings of horsemen and guards piqued the crowd's curiosity, and they soon gathered. Once they knew who had arrived, the anticipation was high. Rumors spread that the Lord was catching big thieves or rounding up those who stole the harvest. People were expecting to see men dragged out from the granary in ropes.

However, despite all the rumors, the Lord's visit was mostly ceremonial. He simply conversed briefly, looked at the storage personally, and confirmed what the people of South Hill already knew: this year's harvest yield was lacking.

With the granary still reeling from last year's failed campaign, this year's mediocre harvest results, and Lord Lansius' plan to campaign against Umberland, South Hill's food security was put in doubt.

While aware that the farmers would plant their winter crops, the community's outlook had changed. Previously, the winter crops were seen as a hopeful promise of abundance next spring. But now, they were seen as a necessity; without them, they would certainly face famine.

And they knew that the one who would decide their fate was Lord Lansius.

"Just how much will the Black Lord take from the granary?" many asked in hushed whispers.

Due to the market's situation, the merchants, ever driven by profit, had begun to keep a larger stockpile than usual. Despite the Lord's harsh stance against price manipulation, the merchants didn't believe they were breaking any laws. In their view, they were merely preparing for the worst. As a result, the price of grains continued to rise, and the poor were increasingly concerned about the coming winter. Their only hope was for a helping hand from the Lord.

A few dared to ask, "Unlike the rich and landowners, why are we still untouched by the Lord's benevolence?"

Others argued, "We helped with the labor, yet we see no benefit from the free market tax or toll tax."

The poor, surviving through begging or doing odd jobs whenever possible, found themselves in no position to benefit from the tax-free policies.

The Lord's inspection of the granary was brief and uneventful, ending as swiftly as it had begun. Contrary to the crowd's expectations, the visit resulted in no tangible action. No one was brought to justice, there was no address to the people, and no alms were distributed. The Lord and his entourage simply rode away.

Barely raising more than eyebrows, the visit left the crowd dissatisfied. They dispersed, continuing with their day as the fear of winter continued to weigh heavily on their minds.

 

***

 

The next day at dawn, as the first shop in the market barely opened to receive its daily goods of vegetables and milk, there was a commotion in the streets. Even though the roads in the city were still empty, traffic was already building up. Many city dwellers woke up surprised to see horse and donkey-drawn carts lining up the streets leading to the market.

At least thirty carts were already there, and then another ten arrived, further clogging the city's narrow and winding streets.

"Officer, what's going on?" a few daring individuals asked the guards, who appeared to be patrolling the streets.

"Nothing to worry about. We're just escorting the farmers to sell their grains."

"Farmers, selling grains?" They couldn't believe their ears.

"Yes, apparently, unlike last year, they have plenty of surplus this year," the officer explained.

"They have?" another neighbor who just joined asked in surprise.

The officer gave a stiff smile. "I don’t know the details myself. We're ordered to escort the farmers safely and I’m expecting further instructions later. Gentlemen, until then," he said, before walking away with his group in brigandines and sallets. They continued patrolling the area, aware that a large number of horses and donkeys can be troublesome.

While the people in the city were still processing what had happened, the market situation was approaching a near frenzy. The various shops worked as diligently as they could, purchasing the grain at yesterday's market price.

More carts of grain arrived from the surrounding villages, greeted by an ever-increasing number of shops opening, each vying not to be outdone by their competitors. Everyone was seizing the opportunity for profit. Gaining such a high quantity of grain felt like a boon; they were convinced they were securing a tremendous amount of profit, even before the morning had fully dawned.

Little did they know just how much grain they were actually dealing with.

...

 

The sun rose higher, bathing the city in its golden light, yet the market remained paralyzed by the convoy of carts that had gathered in the busy area. These narrow carts, loaned by the City Council, filled the streets, each one waiting its turn to offload grain. Buckets of hay and water were scattered here and there, as coachmen tried to keep the burdened beasts in good condition.

The sheer number of carts crowding the streets leading to the market affected everyone. This congestion showed no signs of resolving soon. As it turned out, the farmers were not only selling but also purchasing goods with their hard-earned money, loading them into their carts and thereby further slowing down the process.

This unforeseen development was followed intensely by everyone. While almost everyone didn’t fully understand how the market set its prices, they knew instinctively that scarcity drives prices up, and abundance drives them down. So they watched with great excitement, hoping that the price would come down.

After close to forty carts had been unloaded and processed, and with forty more still lining up in the streets, the merchants began to worry and decided to meet in secret. Many shop owners had just been awakened by their workers or helpers, having had no expectation of large market activity so soon after the harvest and so close to the Harvest Festival.

"Forty carts followed by another forty," one exclaimed as soon as they gathered.

"Where do they come from? Outside of South Hill?" another asked.

As he sat down, an old balding merchant shared, "My men report that they saw another group coming from the other villages. At least twenty carts, likely more to come."

"How could there be this many? Is the Lord somehow behind this?"

"My fellow merchants, please remain calm. I have conducted a small investigation," the host said calmly, relaxed in his seat.

"As expected of the richest man in South Hill," one of the guests quipped.

The man in the bright red doublet smiled and continued, "The situation is caused by our own negligence. We've miscalculated."

"Miscalculated? How?" one asked on behalf of the group.

"This year, the Lord allowed the peasants to exclusively work and harvest their own land," the host responded.

"Yes, we know that, but that doesn’t mean they could produce that much more."

"Indeed. The problem lies in our faulty measurement," he revealed. Before anyone could react, he asked, "Tell me, how did you find out that the harvest result was meager?"

The young merchant pondered, then shrugged and confessed, "I know from other fellows. They raised their prices, so I raised mine."

The host gazed at the rest, and one answered, "With just a few drinks everyone can ask the granary workers. They can see with their own eyes just how much is stored in the building. I even know some who bribed the clerk to learn the actual tally in the records given to the Lord."

Many nodded their heads.

"This is where we got it wrong," the host surmised. "We were too focused on the granary and failed to see the real situation."

"Failed? But we have men, neighbors, and relatives who took part in the harvest. They all tell us that the harvest yield was lower than last year. Surely, they wouldn’t lie," one retorted.

"I'm not suggesting they're lying," the host clarified.

"Then how could this happen? Combined, we've already processed probably more than fifty cartloads of grain."

"Gentlemen, bear in mind that we overlooked the issue of distribution." The host leaned forward. "Let me explain. By law, the Lord could only take crops from communal land, and that is what gets delivered to the city granary."

The guests followed intently, voicing no objection.

"The issue is, as I said before, for this year, the Lord allowed the peasants to work exclusively on their land. Under the previous lord, the peasants usually lost many crops due to pests or animal attacks that gathered as soon as the harvest season started. However, this year, they could harvest their crops to their hearts' content."

The merchants nodded their heads slowly, beginning to understand.

The old merchant commented, "That is true. Twenty years ago, when my father was still alive, we usually purchased grains directly from the peasants. But since the Three Hills conflicts, the farmers had so little we didn't bother to travel there anymore."

"For more than a decade, we've been so accustomed to relying on the communal land, on our private farms, and those of the nobles, that we forgot the peasants were also suppliers," the host lamented. "The harvest did indeed lessen, but the distribution made it seem worse than it actually was."

Many sighed or shook their heads in disbelief. They had been misled by the stockpile of grains in the granary and were unaware that this year, the farmers had their own stockpile. Only now did they remember that the Lord had made his men, the Nicopolans, available to assist the peasants with their crops. Thus, it became clear how the peasants could achieve optimal results, even in a low-yield situation.

Deep down, the merchants were aware that in their greed, they had cornered themselves into painful losses. Usually, whenever a surplus happened, they could sell it to Three Hills for profit. Even when the previous lord forbade it, they smuggled it for even more profit. But now they dared not gamble against the Black Lord.

One who remained standing headed to the door. "Please excuse me, I have stocked up plenty. I need to tell my store not to buy anymore."

Another rose from his seat. "Thank you for the explanation. I'll also stop trading."

"How about the price?" the young merchant asked his colleagues.

The old merchant, donning his hat as he prepared to leave, advised, "Better to sell at your purchase price from several days ago."

"But that's a loss."

The host rose and tapped the young man's shoulder. "At this rate, everyone will feel a loss. Better to drop the stock now before the winter wheat harvest next spring. At this rate, the beggars will be eating white bread."

Many chuckled nervously as they left. The idea that the price of white grain would drop so low that beggars could eat wheat and oats instead of rye, barley, legumes, or bran, was laughable. But the possibility now existed, and if it happened, the merchants knew they would face a tremendous loss.

With heavy hearts, the merchants raced to stop their shops from buying grains and began to offer lower selling prices. A few even quietly showed willingness to offer lower prices to anyone with money and willing to speculate on bulk purchases, out of fear of further loss from their vast grain storage.

Midday was still far off when the market rejected the remaining grain carts, leading to a serious disturbance and loud shouting between the farmers and market workers. The situation soon worsened as some frustrated farmers began to sell their grains on the street at lower prices than the merchants, causing a ruckus and further aggravating the disturbance.

Unable to intervene effectively, the merchants attempted to bribe, but not all were willing to accept such measures.

The merchants considered using thugs to enforce their will, but the presence of the Lord's men deterred any such actions. Seeing the Nicopolans armed and the Lord's men positioned with crossbows on windows and rooftops, nobody dared to escalate the conflict. They were acutely aware that the Black Lord had his eyes on this situation.

Nobody wanted to forfeit their lives and wealth, thus the farmers reigned in the market. The narrow streets of South Hill turned into a surprise grain market, flooding the city with cheap grains for everyone to buy. The farmers were also proved to be generous, each giving a free bowl of grain to beggars and children in need.

The situation ceased only when the Lord, via his Captain, directed the farmers to the granary, offering to buy their remaining grain out of benevolence. Thus, the story circulated that on the first harvest under Lord Lansius, despite the low yield, the farmers were flooding the city with grain.

The commoners, not privy to all the information, attributed the situation to the new Lord being blessed by the Ancients. Any earlier skepticism towards his House had now vanished, replaced by fervent trust and submission. The poor were particularly heartened; the sacks of white grain they had gained at such low prices seemed nothing short of magical in their eyes.

This harvest season, everybody, even the poorest, had plenty to eat, and they directed their gratitude to the new Lord.

 

***

 

South Hill Castle - Audrey

"My Lady," Sigmund and Sir Harold greeted as they entered the Council Chamber.

"Sir Harold," Audrey responded, then turned to Sigmund, "Apologies for bothering you during your training," she said, motioning them to their seats.

"This is my duty, My Lady. I cannot imagine not participating in this," said Sigmund, taking a seat.

Carla diligently poured drinks for the guests. Inside the council room were only four people: the Lady, Sir Harold, Sigmund, and Carla.

Audrey nodded and asked, "How's the situation out there?"

Sir Harold smiled and reported, "Servius did everything smoothly. The plan is flawless, so our part in the scheme was minimal."

"The early farmers got their money, and the food prices dropped significantly," Sigmund added.

Audrey let out a breath of relief. "Well done," she praised.

Outside, the problem seemed solved. The price of grain had dropped, and as a bonus, the farmers gained money to improve their lives. However, the staff knew not everything was as it seemed.

"A question," Sir Harold asked, drawing everyone's attention. "On behalf of the other council member, while we understand what was happening, we're not sure how this could happen."

Audrey nodded. "It would be wiser to wait for the Lord, but I can try to explain."

"Indeed, My Lady, an explanation from you would be much appreciated," Sigmund said.

Audrey took a deep breath and began, "What happened in the market today was a diversion. We take the merchants as the enemy and the grain as our troops. To achieve victory, we need to corner the merchants until they refuse to buy more grain."

She continued, "The first strategy was to appear as having a larger army than the opponents. While we had the farmers' grain, it was only worth around eighty cartloads. Thus, we used narrow military carts and didn't allow the farmers to load bushels of wheat directly into the carts and load them to the brim as usual. Instead, we used wooden barrels."

Sir Harold commented, "It's safer but less efficient. Each of our carts could carry slightly more than half of an ordinary wide merchant cart."

"The use of wooden barrels was also intended to slow the process," Audrey added. "The plan was to cause chaos in the market. The Lord mentioned that by creating the illusion of an abundance, we could reassure everyone about the grain supply."

Sigmund nodded quietly, looking impressed.

"By utilizing narrow carts and wooden barrels, we successfully distributed grain equivalent to eighty cartloads across over a hundred carts. However..."

Sir Harold interjected, "It still wasn’t enough."

"Indeed, with just around 110 carts, the Lord was still skeptical that he could convince the merchants. So, the cornerstone of the second strategy was to increase the cart number to more than 140. To reach this number, only 70 carts at the front were fully loaded with white grains. The rest had white grain on top, but brown grain at the bottom."

"It was a risky move. But it worked," Sir Harold chuckled. "The market seized up after processing forty carts and refused to buy more."

"The Lord explained to me: Just like on the battlefield, if one side sees the other receiving large reinforcements, one column after another, they would be more inclined to flee."

Sir Harold chuckled again. "It amazes me that we treated the grain price and the merchants like we were on a battlefield."

"Indeed, it's unthinkable," Sigmund added.

"If everything is clear, then, shall we proceed with the report?" Audrey asked.

Sigmund straightened up. "Currently, the carts with white and brown grains are returning to the camp. As planned, they didn't unload at the city granary. We have the Captain to relay another order that the grains should be transferred directly to the Nicopolan camp outside the city."

"Good. Let's keep the brown grains for emergencies," Audrey instructed.

"Actually, My Lady, some Nicopolans have grown fond of brown grain and blood sausages. So, we can treat the food like any other," Carla, standing next to Audrey, spoke up for the first time.

Audrey chuckled at this revelation. "Now, I'm curious. Perhaps I should give it a taste."

Carla furrowed her brow. "We dared not cook such food for you."

Audrey shifted in her seat and glanced at her. "Last year, I was still a squire. A meal is a meal. If it's good enough for them, it's probably good enough for me."

"Count me in for a bowl," Sir Harold commented with a smile.

The mood in the chamber lightened.

"My Lady, there's another development," Sigmund reported, as all crucial matters had been reported. "One of our agents heard that some merchants are willing to part with their grains at a low price if anyone agrees to purchase in bulk."

Audrey drew a deep breath. "Just as the Lord predicted."

"What did the Lord tell you, My Lady?" Sigmund asked.

Audrey chuckled and muttered, "He said: That'll teach them not to play with grain prices again."

The guests chuckled. Afterward, Sigmund repeated, "Should we entertain the offer?"

"Of course, more grains are better for the upcoming campaign," Audrey replied without hesitation. "Also, the Lord wanted to appease the nobles and landlords who will join us in the upcoming campaign."

"Ah, I see, a strategic gift of grains," Sir Harold mused.

"Exactly. It's also to keep them from messing with the prices," Audrey explained, then turned to Sigmund. "Can you handle the negotiation?"

"Certainly. I'll play them hard first, ensure we get a better price."

With that, the council marked the grain issue as resolved. Utilizing the Tarracan Man's strategy, Lord Lansius had brilliantly safeguarded South Hill's harvest, convincing all that the city had more than enough grain, thus averting the high price.

Now, only one matter remained – the preparations for their departure in just three days. This would be their fourth campaign of the year. Despite a string of victories, there lingered a fear among everyone that they might be overreaching. For them, battle and war were akin to a gamble, and Lord Lansius had cast his dice so often that many feared his streak of luck might be nearing its end.

 

***