A village to flourish depends on the people's stomachs, specifically, whether they are full or empty. At least, that was Adrian's thinks.
Hence, agriculture, livestock, and fishing were the matters he chose to focus on for now. Hunting was an option, too, though it was less reliable for sustainability and depends on the season. Adrian walked through the fields alongside old Tashe, the woman who oversaw the village crops.
"Milord, a new round of effort will be needed to irrigate the new fields, if that is indeed your plan…"
"I'll have the prisoners see it done, with some additional help." Adrian answered, gauging the distance between the fields and the river.
He turned back to the crops. Wheat was the primary grain grown in their fields, but Adrian wondered what else might thrive there. He posed the question to the old woman.
"Milord… perhaps we could try growing barley? It would do well for brewing ale. Peas and beans, too." the old lady suggested. Though her back was slightly hunched now, her voice remained strong.
Adrian nodded. "Those are all good, but do we know how to grow them?"
"I know my way around them well enough, milord. And even if I don't, I'm sure someone in town or the neighboring villages would know."
Adrian etched the matter into his mind, planning to settle it during the next trade mission to Whitesand Town. He had a chest full of gold coins secured in a secret compartment back at the castle, along with chests of shillings. While it was a significant sum, it was useless if he didn't use it to enrich his territory.
'Maybe I'll hire more people to work here, too?' Adrian toyed with the idea. Once he finished his inspection and discussion with Tashe, he headed to the back of the castle where the livestock, sheep, chickens, and cattle were raised.
Looking at the pens, Adrian judged them too small. They were sufficient for a castle of this size, of course, but not for his future plans. Managing the livestock had become easier since he'd hired extra hands to increase output, even setting a reward for any surplus produced each month.
He spoke with Darte, the man in charge, and drafted plans to create dedicated farms for each animal. It would require more than just extra hands, Adrian noted the need for woodworkers to build the necessary structures.
"Milord, I can use this area to build a barn, and the chicken coops over here," Darte said, pointing. "And right now, for the sheds… I could breed horses. Horses always fetch a good price."
Adrian listened to Darte's plans, raising an eyebrow at the end. "Do you even know how to breed horses?"
Darte, middle-aged but with a spring in his step and youthful energy, grinned. "I know enough! And I'm a quick learner when it comes to animals."
Adrian considered it. Dealing in horses was a lucrative venture, but it was no simple task. In the end, he agreed. He had nothing to lose but time, and some coins, but coins could always be earned back.
"Sure."
As Darte excitedly rattled off more details, Adrian began considering the formation of a council.
Each member would represent an important aspect of managing the territory. It would allow him to oversee everything more effectively and ensure his directives were carried out.
The idea took root quickly. He returned to the castle just in time for lunch, enjoying a sumptuous meal with Lady Ela.
"Departments?" Ela asked, understandably confused. The word felt strange on her tongue.
Adrian laughed softly. "Perhaps that's too grand a word. They are more like representatives for each vital part of the territory."
"Wouldn't a steward achieve that? Or simply you?"
Adrian shook his head. "This would make it easier for me to oversee things. It's too unreliable to just tell someone what to do and then wait a month or two to check on them." He took a large bite of a chicken leg, swallowed, and continued.
"I could have someone manage livestock, agriculture, and fishing, I've realized the village doesn't have proper management for those. I could even merge them, give them a budget, and set tasks for them to achieve. They could hire people under them and get things running."
'At least, that's how it was done?' Adrian thought of his strange dreams. He shook his head, even if it wasn't exactly right, he felt he was on the right track.
He had plenty of time to refine the details later.
"You would spend that much on this?" Ela asked, looking bewildered.
"Not just that. I also plan to create departments for trade, production, and law and order to handle disputes and of course education. Although our population is small, it's better to start now." Adrian took a sip of water. "Though I will focus on food for the time being."
Once his people didn't have to worry about their next meal, he could direct them toward productive trades like smithing and weaving and more to increase the village's income.
"Education, law and order… that is the duty of a lord. Especially the law. You wouldn't hand that to a commoner, would you?"
"I would. A representative could work, I just need someone trustworthy. Although…" Adrian paused and tilted his head. "I really should be clearer about my laws."
Even after all this time, he still couldn't quite believe he was someone who could dictate the law. In his territory, he could pass a law to increase taxes for a month, or heck, even a law requiring people to dance every morning.
He had power, or at least people believe in him, and sometimes, it scared him.
He smiled at his unfolding plans. "And it would be a council where the representatives gather weekly or so for a meeting."
Ela had a realization. "Like the situation in the capital?"
Adrian pondered her meaning and remembered that Solaris, the kingdom's capital, employed a similar system, though as far as he knew, every council member there was nobility.
"Yes… something like that."
Ela looked at him puzzledly for a long moment.
"What?" Adrian asked.
"…You have not just the heart of a ruler, milord, but the mind of one as well."
Adrian was taken aback. "Just because of what I said? and what is this 'heart of a ruler' thing?" he asked, slightly embarrassed.
"Don't you notice, milord?" Ela was far more reserved than he was as she took a slice of roasted chicken.
"I know you are a distant cousin to the late Lord Harrow and that you grew up among common folk, but the way you face them… your words and your considerations… the way you talk to the people and treat them… I would have thought you were raised to be a lord. As if you were always meant to be one."
Adrian scratched his cheek. "I don't think that's enough to be considered a lord, is it?"
"See?" Ela smiled. "I have seen the smallest amount of power go to someone's head and consume them. But you? It's as if the power doesn't faze you."
"It does, though," Adrian replied with a hint of bitterness. "It does."
Ela shook her head. "But you don't let it control you. Instead, here you are, sprouting ideas I've never heard of to better the territory. What I truly mean to say is…" she reached across and took his hand underneath the table, smiling at him, "I am at your service, milord."
--
"He used to fix up my drawers…"
"He even made my bed…"
"He made your bed?" Brock grinned at Hale, but he was met with a sharp glare.
"Oy, don't speak of the Lord that way," Hale hissed. Brock glanced around the tavern and saw several patrons watching him; he nodded meekly in apology.
It was strange how life worked. Adrian had simply been their neighbor before.
Adrian Harrow had been their Lord for a short while now, and the village had accepted it, especially after his first appearance and the feast on the night he arrived.
However, the territory hadn't fully felt the impact of a new ruler yet, mostly because the new Baron had been shuffling back and forth between the Prince's new constructing port city and here. It was only now, nearly a month after the Lord's return from battle, that they truly began to realize what kind of a lord Adrian Harrow was.
Just then, Bell appeared to refill their drinks. Brock tried to cop a feel, his hand slipping toward her dress, but she leveled him with a cold stare until he backed down.
"You guys talking about the Lord?" Bell asked, her expression returning to its usual spirited self.
"Yes... he's had us all busy these past few weeks." Hale said, grumbling mildly.
"Busy is good. It means business is good." Bell replied with a smile, looking around the tavern, which was fairly crowded for the night.
At another table, a man named Becket was gesturing wildly, speaking with excitement to the two people in front of him.
"Becket seems worked up, huh?" Hale commented.
"How could he not be? The Lord approached him about fishing matters and gave him coins, a budget, he called it, to start a farm… but with fishes…" Brock said.
He noticed Bell lingering near Hale and immediately rolled his eyes, cursing himself for not having enough coin to catch her interest.
"What does the Lord plan with all that, anyway? He's been fussing too much over the village." Brock grumbled.
"The Lord is wise. We all knew him before he ascended, but… I know a few other things about him, too." Bell said, a suggestive smirk playing on her lips.
Brock and Hale took a moment to process the implication before looking at her incredulously. Before they could say a word, Bell swept away from the table.
Brock shook his head. "Do you think the Lord will want anything to do with us hunters?" he asked Hale.
"I don't know. I hope he does," Hale shrugged.
Brock thought about the Lord's work over the past few weeks. Adrian Harrow had been busy, and he made sure his people were busy too, building shelters for cattle, expanding and irrigating new fields, and establishing a fish farm. Then there was the "census," where officials asked everyone about their families and their skills.
The village was confused about the purpose of the census, but most approved of the Lord's actions, finding contentment in the steady work.
Brock, however, had complicated feelings. One of his brothers had lost his life fighting for Adrian. He harbored a seed of resentment, feeling that Adrian wasn't fit to be a Lord because he hadn't been raised like one. He was born a peasant.
Yet now, Brock couldn't help but feel that those born of nobility, no matter how distant the relation, were simply different from the rest of them.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside. Brock and Hale exchanged confused looks and walked out of the tavern. The noise was coming from the village docks, where several boats had come to a halt.
They looked at each other, then moved toward the water to eavesdrop on the growing crowd.