Chapter 52 - Tom the Villager
***Third Bonus Chapter of the Week***
Outside of Dreadfort Castle
POV of Villager Tom
Tom stood outside the large castle and waited in line as the people from each village were given bags filled with seeds for sowing in their fields.
Seeds that gave birth to a harvest that had eight to ten tis more grain in it than a harvest from normal seeds.
It had been a while since Lord Bolton of Dreadfort started giving away these seeds to every village within his lands. The seeds that the reason behind the prosperity of their village.
He rembered a ti in his life when he and his six siblings would go hungry at night because of the lack of food within their ho but such a thing had not happened ever since Lord Bolton started giving them these High Yielding Seeds, whatever that ant.
In fact, they had produced so much grain with the help of these seeds within the past harvests that his father, the village elder, told them to construct a granary so that they could store away the excess food that they could either sell to their own lord or keep for themselves.
Similar things were happening within their surrounding villages as he had not seen a single hungry child within those villages either. Sothing that was a miracle in itself.
After a long wait, he finally reached the front where a sturdy-looking man was sitting on a desk with a pen and paper on the table.
The man wrote sothing on the paper for a while before he looked up at him and asked.
"Tom."
"Tom... Village na."
"Blue Valley village." He said, reciting the na that the young Lord Bolton had given to their village.
"Number of families in the village?" the man asked, and Tom took out a piece of paper and gave it to the older and stern-looking man.
He had repeated this process a few tis already, but he always felt nervous when standing in front of n like these.
A pity that he didn't know how to read and write or count his numbers for that matter or he would be able to recite the number from the top of his head like so other learned n.
Granny Abba was the only learned one in his village, so she wrote down these things before he ca here in order to take the seeds.
"84." The man murmured as he looked at the paper "Last ti there were only 81 families in your village. How did that change?" the man asked sternly, and Tom felt like a little rabbit under the gaze of a fierce lion before he rembered the answer and said.
"So folks from the nearby lands ca to live within our lands because their own lands didn't produce so much food."
The man continued looking at him for a long mont, as if searching for any lies within his words before he finally gave a nod and Tom let go of a breath that he didn't know that he was holding.
"Very well then." The man said before he started to calculate so numbers within a piece of slate with a white stone.
After a while, the man finished his numbers and shouted at the guards standing behind him.
"Luton. Bring out 8 plows, 8 seed drills, 16 oxen, and 28 shovels." He shouted and the n behind him started to move in unison and within the breath of a few minutes, all those things were brought up to him while he wondered what all this was about.
Sure, they had followed the orders given by their lord and created a large barn for cattle, but he didn't know that they would be receiving so many oxen.
His eyes almost ca out of their socket as he looked at the plows, shovels, and the so-called seed drills that were being brought up to him. So far, the only thing that they used to tilt their lands was a wooden shovel. But those shovels and plows were clearly made of steel. Steel that only the high lords and the n under them used for their weapons.
In fact, the only ti he had seen Castel Forged steel within his own village was when his father showed him the spear with a steel tip that he was gifted at the end of the last war by the late Lord Bolton for his bravery on the battlefield.
To think that they would be receiving so many things made of steel was almost unthinkable to him.
Then the stern man turned to him and said "Every 10 families in your village will receive 1 plow. 1 seed drill and 2 oxen. And every 3 families will receive a steel shovel. Is that understood?"
"Yes."
"Then repeat what I said." The man ordered sternly, and he repeated what he heard. He was good at that.
The man nodded in satisfaction and said "Every family within your village will give 2 more bushels of grain for the next three years in order to pay for these things. Is that understood?"
"Y... yes." He stamred out. There was a ti when giving 2 more bushels of grain to the lord for taxes would have left them with nothing to feed their family but nowadays they could give 2 more bushels of grain and still have enough food to eat 3 tis a day easily.
"Good. These n..." The man said and pointed at the dozen or so guards standing behind him "...would help you in carrying these things back to your village and make sure that no harm cos to you on the way. Is that understood?"
Then the man gestured and a boy who was a few years younger than him ca up to them while holding a stack of paper, ink, and quill.
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Author's Note: Thank you, frimorigo for upgraing your mbership and becoming a DIAMOND mber of my page. This Chapter is dedicated to your na.
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Ch.53: Ga of Thrones
Ch.54: Lord Doric Bolton is a Bachelor
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