Chapter 456: The Fields of Gallowshill

Chapter 455: The Fields of Gallowshill

Lyria’s POV

Lucian and I came to a pause at what we beheld.

Never in all my life had I seen anything of the like, though, if I am to be perfectly honest, there was very little I had seen of the world beyond the capital. I had known, before setting foot in Gallowshill, that it was a town whose livelihood rested chiefly upon farming. That much had been made plain to me. But I had not been told — I had not been prepared in the smallest degree — for what the farmlands should look like.

There were numerous fields, lying upon a great slope, stretching from the higher ground down into a valley that had become little better than a bog — and I was quite certain that description accurate, having learnt the proper meaning of the word during Baron Redwick’s lessons. But it was here, upon this slope, that the whole of the town’s people had gathered.

Every soul seemed present — men and women, the elderly and the young, those with infants in their arms and children at their heels. They laboured without pause, without complaint, their movements slow but steady. The lower reaches of the slope lay entirely waterlogged, the earth so sodden it gleamed darkly beneath the morning light, the greater part of it ruined utterly. Men stood ankle-deep in the mire, hauling debris and stone from the ravaged soil, their tunics soaked through with sweat and water both.

There was scarcely anything left — only water, and more water still. What crops had once grown there had been washed away entire, leaving behind nothing but the memory of furrows, and the scattered remnants of what had once been planted. The middle reaches of the slope fared somewhat better, though even there the ground appeared treacherous. I observed sunken places where the earth had given way, and the people moved with considerable care, their steps slow and measured.

Fewer still laboured at the top, but those who did worked with the same quiet determination as the rest.

I swallowed hard.

For all I had heard — for all Isaac had told Lucian, and Lucian had told me — I had not anticipated the damage to prove so excessive. The reports had spoken of waterlogged fields and ruined crops, of a town in need. But to behold it with my own eyes was an altogether different matter.

My first impulse was to help.

I wished to rush forward, to take up some tool, to do something — anything — that might ease their burden.

But I could not.

These people did not want me here. They had made that plain enough already. To rush in uninvited should only confirm whatever prejudice they already held against nobles and their kind. And I dared not even ask for cleaning materials at such a moment, for these people struggled to tend their very fields — the source of their livelihood, their very survival. To speak of brooms and basins while they laboured to save their crops should be an insult of the highest order.

"What do you intend to do?" Lucian asked softly.

I did not reply.

I merely took in the people before me — their bent backs, their weary movements, their countenances set with determination despite all they had lost.

Then I walked towards the first familiar face I could find — Cadmus. He stood among a company of men at the lowest reach of the slope, his hands soiled, his tunic marked with sweat. I felt certain he had observed me, for his gaze flickered in my direction, but he feigned otherwise, turning his attention back to his labour.

I stopped before him.

He straightened at once, as did the others about him. The sun was not strong, yet evidence of sweat showed plainly upon his tunic, and his hands were rough with toil.

"Your Highness," he said, bowing.

"C-Cadmus," I said softly. "W-would it be at all p-possible to speak w-with the official t-today?"

Cadmus stared at me a moment.

"What for?" he asked. "What d’ye want with ’im?"

"I c-can do nothing whatsoever," I said, "if I d-do not speak with him f-first. You k-know that well enough."

"The official’s sick," someone said from behind Cadmus. "He ain’t got time fer visitors."

"Then p-point me towards another d-direction," I said. "There m-must be some other soul with a-authority d-directly beneath him?"

The man shrugged.

"No one ’cept the official ’as any authority ’ere. That’s ’ow it’s always been."

"Then t-tell me where the official’s r-residence lies," I said, not giving up the point, "that I might at l-least call upon him."

"D’ye not ’ear?" another man asked. "’E’s sick."

Lucian stepped forward.

"That is scarcely the manner in which you ought to address a princess," he said, his voice cold.

Before the man might reply, a voice cut through the air — a familiar voice, and one that brought me a measure of relief I had not anticipated.

"What official is sick?"

We all turned towards the source of the voice, to behold Duke Valenridge approaching. Beside him walked a man I did not recognise — a man with a straw hat upon his head, his hands gloved, his tunic marked with sweat.

"Surely not this official," Duke Valenridge said to the man beside him. "Is that not so, Jim? For I observed you lifting a stone not a moment past. Surely you cannot be sick."

The whole of the field grew still.

Every townsperson ceased their labour. Their gazes fixed upon Duke Valenridge, and upon the man he had called Jim.

"It is a p-pleasure to m-meet you," I said to the official.

"What d’ye want?" he asked.

"Might we s-speak in p-private?" I asked him.

Jim scoffed.

"I ’ide nothin’ from me own people. Whatever ye ’ave ter say, ye may say it before everyone ’ere."

I gave him a long look, then nodded.

"What d-do you n-need h-help with?" I asked him.

"We need no ’elp with nothin’," he said sharply. "Ye may take yerself back ter the Crown, an’ go runnin’ ter yer mummy an’ daddy. Me people can care fer themselves. We can mend our own ’ouses. We can manage everythin’ ourselves."

"I d-did not enquire after h-houses," I said. "I ask r-regarding the w-work in these fields. What h-help do you n-need, in the f-fields, for n-now?"

"We need none of yer ’elp with nothin’," he replied.

"T-truly?" I asked, my eyes wide with feigned shock. "For if I am s-seeing matters c-correctly, you d-do indeed need h-help."

I gestured towards the slope about us.

"The f-fields require c-clearing, do they not? And a g-great many of your people are w-weary — I perceive it plainly in the w-way they move. What should happen, were a s-torm to come again? What if there is m-more damage still to come? I have p-people at my disposal who might help this w-work proceed faster."

I paused.

"I o-only offer my aid h-here, in the f-fields, for the p-present, that f-further damage might be prevented."

"We can manage it ourselves!" one person cried out, before Jim might even answer me.

"We want no nobles ’ere!" another shouted.

"Go back ter yer capital," cried a third.

But I observed Jim’s gaze pass over his people — their weary countenances, their exhausted movements, their hands raw with toil. It was plain enough to me how deeply he cared for them, and how greatly all this had affected them.

And I knew, too, that he should accept my offer — for his people might protest it loudly, but they had need of the help regardless.

"Nobles such as yerselves always want somethin’ in return," Jim said at last. "So what is it ye want?"

"An o-ordinary conversation," I said, "upon my own t-terms. And s-supplies for my p-people — b-basic necessities, p-perhaps, n-nothing more besides."

Jim regarded me a long while.

"Only once the work is done," he said, "shall I see that yer demands are met."

I smiled at him.

He had taken the bait, and I found myself wondering whether this was precisely how Lucian and the others felt, whenever their own schemes began to take proper shape.

"T-the work s-shall be done," I told him firmly. "Y-you have my w-word upon it."

Then I turned and began walking away.

Duke Valenridge joined Lucian and myself as we made our way back towards the town.

Only once we had gained a considerable distance did Lucian speak.

"Have you a plan?" he asked.

"T-the plan is a-already in m-motion, Your Grace. I ask only that y-you all c-co-operate with m-me."