The Elder Lands

Lucan was interrupted from his trance of reading when someone knocked on his door. He’d been reading about the Ruskai vermin plague which had been caused by the folly of its people and their lord. Mere critters had nearly caused the lands stricken by them to succumb to starvation. They’d eaten through crops, stockpiles, and even household goods at a horrifying pace. That the author of the book he was reading had a tendency to lean towards the dramatic helped paint the picture for him. It was precious knowledge. One ought to look out for such mistakes while considering absolute decisions like the one the people of Rukasi had made.

Lucan closed the book and laid it on the table. He knew who was on the other side of the door from the soft rhythm of knocking. “Come in, Thomas,” he said. He’d been getting himself used to calling their steward by name alone and without ‘uncle’. Mostly because he’d often had to address him in front of the laborers and it would undermine him to call an apparent subordinate by a senior’s title.

The door opened and the steward came in. His gray hair was flatly combed as always, straight back and stuck to his head, though he must have done it not long ago since it was silvery and wet instead of dry gray at the moment.

The old man’s face was a little distressed, even though he managed to preserve its neutrality as he always did. Lucan, however, had enough experience with their steward to know when something wasn’t right. “Is something the matter?”

Thomas nodded. “You’ve been summoned to Sir Zesh’s study.”

Summoned? If Thomas was being so formal about delivering his father’s command then it was something serious. Lucan got up and followed him through the hallway.

“Do you know what this is about?” Lucan asked as they walked toward his father’s study. Everything had been going well. The laborers had finished the last stretch of the road in the northeast, and there hadn’t been any trouble with Sir Ward. It was the second week in the second month since harvest had started. The last crops had been harvested a fortnight ago, but some of the peasants were still threshing their grain, and so modest traders still came from time to time, hoping to catch an opportune deal.

Thomas hesitated for a moment then spoke. “It’s about the estate’s income. You might not have accounted for everything.”

Before Lucan could ask for an explanation, they’d reached his father's study. Thomas knocked and was allowed in. Lucan followed behind him, his eyes landing on his father who was seated and bristling behind his desk.

Thomas went to stand to the side while Lucan was pointed to stand in front of his father’s desk. “Yes, Father?”

His father hadn’t once looked him in the eye since he’d come in. Rather, his eyes had been fixed on the empty desk. Now he slowly raised them to look at Lucan with familiar menace. Lucan was in trouble.

“I warned you,” his father said. “No, I told you.”

Lucan felt as if ants were crawling under his skin. What had he done wrong? Had the refugees somehow committed a disaster? Perhaps letting them be idle after finishing the road had been naive of him.

Maybe his father saw the perplexion in his eyes, because he answered his questions without being prompted. “The estate can’t make it to the next grain harvest. Some coin has entered the treasury from your merchants, but it isn’t enough. It hasn’t made up for the losses from not selling our surplus grain from last year.”

Oh. Lucan dove into thought as the study grew silent. It hadn’t escaped his notice that there was a certain problem with his ambitious undertaking. The merchants indeed had come as predicted, but their estate had little to trade, specially after they’d withheld their grain stockpiles from sale. Thankfully, the arrival of House Arden’s wine and some of the eastern knights’ grain had alleviated that. Still, with little to trade in, the merchants didn’t end up paying as much in taxes as he’d hoped. Some of the passing merchants had even refused to pay anything and had opted to continue on their journey instead of trading in their territory once they’d found how scarce the trade goods were. Lucan and Thomas had both advised that those merchants not be forced to pay any tolls for passing in his father’s lands, since it would discourage them and their kind from passing through again. His father had acquiesced.

“We can still make it to next year though, Father,” Lucan said. “With the food and coin we have, we can persevere.”

“No,” his father said, jaw set and eyes hard. “We can’t. Not after this.” He threw an ornate letter on the desk.

Lucan stepped forward and picked up the gold-rimmed white letter. Once he opened it, he nearly cursed out loud. It was a summons from the King. He requested that all his vassals gather in the capital for the summer solstice celebration. His father had told him about his obligation to hire more men-at-arms into his service so that he may live up to the King’s expectations. The King had seen five men as too few for the resources available to their estate and territory. Lucan didn’t know whether their monarch was right or wrong, but he knew that they would suffer for it now.

“I’ve already sent word to some acquaintances,” his father continued. “I’ll be hiring at least three more men, regardless of the results. The last thing we need is to be found lacking at this time.”

Lucan felt as though something was stuck in his throat as he mouthed the next few words. “How does this leave us?”

His father glanced at Thomas who stepped forward to answer him. “As is common, the estate will have to arm and provide mounts for the recruited men. This along with the estate’s regular expenses and the new men-at-arms’ wages will strain our treasury. The food from last year and the new stockpile will only last the four hundred refugees for so long, and we might find ourselves forced to buy more before next harvest. We are unlikely–”

“Even if the estate can stay afloat until the next grain harvest,” his father interrupted Thomas. “How will you feed your new pets next year? Is the estate to carry the burden of four hundred people who provide no taxes to its treasury forever? How far have you planned, son? Or did you only dream of a grand road mounted by merchants and nothing further?” He stood up abruptly, fixing Lucan with a look before storming out of the study, leaving a single phrase behind. “Observe your responsibility.”

Lucan looked at Thomas who had an odd look on his face. “Has he already decided that I’ve failed?”

Thomas shook his head. “Your father is furious because he’s had to consider a loan from the main house. And we might indeed be forced to request one.”

“It’s that ominous?” Lucan asked.

Thomas sighed. “No, we will survive. It’s simply a significant setback considering how stable we had become.”

Lucan frowned. Had he really ended up burdening his father instead of helping him make something of their lands? Perhaps he should let him handle it for now, lest he drowns the estate even further.

No. If I cause a mess then run away, then I’m simply nothing but…a child.

If this was a setback, then he had to find his way out of it. Something came to mind for a moment and Lucan jumped out of his seat, finding the map that was rolled up nearby and spreading it on the table.

Thomas put small wooden blocks on its corners to prevent it from rolling back up, then he gazed at Lucan quizzically.

“The stream,” Lucan said, pointing at the stream that fed the saltwater lake in the southwest. The stream itself was fresh water, unlike the lake. It was far from the core of their lands and so there was no one farming there. The prime farming land in their territory was all around the main branch of the canal, and no proper road, or even trail, led to the lake. It was no wonder no one had tried to farm the lands near it. “Can the land near it be farmed?”

Thomas grew thoughtful for a few moments then nodded. “I’ve been there on multiple occasions. The land is somewhat arable, though not the best.”

“How many people can we settle there?” Lucan asked, excited. Perhaps he could find his way out of this knot after all.

“I’m not certain,” Thomas said. “I imagine that such poor land and what little water the stream provides can at most support eighty people, and that would be generous.”

“Have them move there starting tomorrow and get them working,” Lucan said. “Hopefully they can make hay harvest before it’s too late.”

“I will, but even if they do,” Thomas said, not discouraging but instructive, “it won’t be enough to feed them for a whole year.”

“Nor even half of it,” Lucan said. “I know. But at least it relieves some of our burdens, and next year they will feed themselves and even pay us taxes.”

Thomas nodded approvingly. “That leaves more than three hundred idle though,” he said, as though deliberately lowering Lucan’s high spirits down to reality.

Lucan bit into his knuckle then shook it off, remembering how infuriated his father got when he saw him do it. It was a nervous habit that he’d gotten used to from childhood. This setback weighed on him more than anything prior. He’d been more anxious before his first blood against the beasts in the forest, but this was more of a subtle weight that would stay with him for days, perhaps months if he didn’t find a solution.

He leaned back in his chair, sinking into thought. Thomas kindly let him, providing companionable silence. He wondered what he could do to at least delay their woes. He needed food, lots of it. Last year's stockpile which his father had refrained from selling would perhaps last them another month before they’d dip into their new stockpile, which would eventually run out too. Their cellar could only hold so much after all, and his father kept the food in case misfortune struck their lands and they had to keep the people fed until they could buy more. It would be a pittance for the two thousand that lived on their land after all, only enough to sate their hunger for a month or two, or a bit longer if rationed properly. Lucan hadn’t rationed the food provided to his laborers, since he’d wanted them healthy enough to actually work. Thomas had agreed for other reasons. He’d worried that if the refugees went too hungry from rationing, they’d rise in revolt, which would be a disaster in its own right. Lucan didn’t agree, but he believed that they wouldn’t be above poaching if they went hung–

That’s it! He’d been reading about it since the early morning, and it had been floating in the back of his mind till now. “Thomas,” he called loudly, nearly startling the steward who was standing next to him. “Summon Blake the hunter, and…” he paused, thinking. “He doesn’t work alone, does he? He has a son that helps him?”

Thomas nodded. “He has two.”

“Good, bring them too,” Lucan said. “Quickly, please.”

…

It was a while before the hunter and his two sons arrived since they’d been in the forest attending to their duties for the morning. The hunter provided game meat and furs for the estate to use or sell. His compensation was the right to hunt game for himself in the estate’s forest, within reason.

The scarred hunter stood in front of him, flanked by two sons. Lucan recognized one of them as the one who’d accompanied them in clearing the Outbreak. He was obviously the older one, looking a bit older than Lucan. The second son was Lucan’s age and his eyes shifted around the study, obviously being here for the first time. Lucan imagined it was the first time for the older son too, but the younger one seemed more inquisitive, and brave too.

Lucan was seated in his father’s stead behind the desk. He addressed the hunter. “Blake, a good hunt today?”

The hunter lowered his head in greeting. “Master Lucan,” he said, finding a properly flattering address for someone who was neither a commoner nor a noble yet. “The gods haven’t interfered with our hunt and it has been thankfully plentiful.”

Lucan nodded. “Tell me. What manner of natural predators inhabit the eastern forest?”

The hunter seemed taken aback by the question but he hastened to answer it. “Wolves, foxes, wild cats, and some bears too. Forgive me, but why do you ask, Master Lucan?”

“You will know soon, my good man,” Lucan said, smiling. “You’ve seen our new guests, the refugees, have you not?” Upon receiving a nod from the hunter, Lucan continued. “Among them were poachers and trappers that strived to feed their people while they infested the forest. I want you to take them and your two sons starting tomorrow and begin hunting the forest’s predators for their meat.”

“The predators, Master?” Blake asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Lucan nodded. “The refugees won’t be picky with their food as long as they can have it. And I don’t want you to strip the forest of its more edible game yet.”

“But this…” the hunter grew silent.

“I understand this will mean that for a few years, we might find our strip of the forest bare of the animals with the most valuable furs. But it will be repopulated by migrating predators from the other territories of the forest sooner or later.”

The hunter nodded, though he looked unconvinced.

“When’s the mating season for the prey animals in the forest?”

“Soon,” Blake answered. “For the bigger game, it will be within a month.”

“Good,” Lucan said. “Hunting down most of the predators will provide us with an excess of prey animals eventually. Though we’ll need to warn the hamlets near the forest to increase their feline population to combat any excess in vermin like rats or mice.” He remembered that the most valuable furs were those of foxes, and he also wanted some small predators to stay for other reasons. “Leave the foxes, you can hunt them, but not as intensely as the others.”

The result would be inevitable, but it would be to their benefit, if handled properly.

Once the hunter was assigned his chore, he was sent to gather those who knew how to hunt or trap among the refugees.

Lucan was still seated in his father’s chair when Thomas spoke up, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“What are you planning?”

Lucan grinned. He might have found them a way to delay the inevitable. “Have you ever heard of the Ruskai Plague?”

Thomas frowned for a moment then shook his head. “It can’t have been significant, since I’ve never heard of its spread.”

Lucan laughed. “It wasn’t a disease, Thomas. Ruskai is a small town in Hamodeus, in the highlands near the Bow Peaks. Their people benefit from raising the sheep which provides the best wool I know of. Their herds are some of the largest there are. Yet, they suffered from a problem. Predators from both the flatlands and the woodlands near them predated upon their flocks. The problem got worse as their herds expanded with the demand for their wool. Eventually, the Ruskari had enough and decided to do away with the worst of their sheep’s predators, the native jackals.

A year-round hunt commenced, with bounties for any spotted jackal’s head attracting those seeking their fortune even from surrounding lands. The locals themselves were motivated for the task, and they did their part of the hunting with gusto. More than a year later, the jackals had nearly disappeared from the region. And the locals suffered for it. You see, when you remove the predators, the prey proliferates. That prey included wild hares, mice, rats, and even some snakes in this instance.

For years after, the Ruskari suffered from their mistake. Venomous snakes caused injuries and unfortunate deaths. Wild hares ruined what little farmland there was. And mice invaded every stockpile of food in the region. Even rats got so big that they could stand up to cats mustered to combat their population. The suffering only ended as the spotted jackals’ population began to expand again, taking over the duty of combating the pests in the wild and lowering their populations.”

“Aren’t we doing what they did now?” Thomas asked.

Lucan nodded. “Yes, but we have a plan. The foxes will help keep the worst of the small vermin under control as we hunt the wild game, including hares, for food. They are particularly adept at hunting mice, rats, and snakes. The predators’ meat along with our stockpiles will last the refugees for a while, and once that time has passed, we will turn to hunting the enlarged population of prey animals that will result from this plan. It won’t even affect us for long, since we’ll be prepared.”

Thomas contemplated his explanation without showing any immediate objection, and Lucan bit his knuckle once more, this time in excitement. He’d set in motion what would hopefully be the saving grace of his ambitious venture.

Yet it wouldn’t be enough to handle long-term problems like having three hundred idle refugees in their lands by the end of the year. He’d have to peruse his study’s collection of books for more ideas, since it’d proven to be such a good source already.