Chapter 457: A Test of Mud

Chapter 456: A Test of Mud

The townspeople waited until they were certain the princess and those accompanying her had gained a considerable distance before their attention returned to Jim.

For several moments, no one spoke. Then an elderly woman, who had been labouring in the lower fields, approached him. Her hair, silver with age, had been gathered loosely at the back of her head, and the hem of her dress was stained dark with mud.

"Are ye quite sure this be wise, Jim?" she asked. "We can do this ourselves. We don’t need their ’elp."

Jim regarded her, then looked out across the fields.

"We do need their ’elp."

"We’ve managed thus far," the woman said, a frown upon her face.

"We’ve been at this fer days," Jim replied. "An’ what ’ave we accomplished?"

He gestured towards the lower fields, where men still stood in waterlogged earth, attempting to clear stones and branches from land that seemed determined to swallow every effort made upon it.

"The fields are still flooded. There’s debris scattered everywhere. ’Alf the ground ain’t fit ter walk upon, let alone plant anythin’ in. We’ve been clearin’ the same sections over an’ over, ’cause the water keeps shiftin’ the mud right back inter ’em."

His voice remained low, but the weariness beneath it was impossible to disguise.

"An’ we’re tired," he continued. "All of us. There’s barely enough food left fer another few days, if we’re careful. The princess weren’t wrong when she said we need ’elp. We do."

A murmur passed through the people gathered about him.

Cadmus, who had remained nearby, wiped the back of his hand across his brow.

"Even if we do need ’elp," he said, "ye didn’t ’ave ter let the princess ’elp us."

Several people nodded at once.

"Exactly," another woman said. "She’s a noble."

"Aye."

"All of ’em are."

"They only care about themselves."

"Ye know what nobles are like," another woman added, arms folded. "They don’t come all this way out ’ere out o’ kindness."

Another man, standing with a shovel resting against his shoulder, looked towards the path by which Lyria and the others had departed.

"What makes ye fink she’ll even ’elp us?" he asked. "What makes ye fink she means well? There’s gotta be somefin’ else. People like that don’t travel all this way fer nothin’."

A few others murmured their agreement.

"An’ if she’s only after cleanin’ utensils," the man continued, "then she can go back where she came from. We ain’t got enough supplies fer ourselves, let alone nobles."

"That’s right."

"Send ’em back."

"We managed before they came."

"We’ll manage after they leave."

Jim raised a hand.

"Calm yerselves."

The murmuring slowly subsided.

"Surely ye don’t take me fer a fool?"

The question drew a few uncertain looks.

"I gave the princess an ultimatum," he said. "Told ’er plainly that only after the work was done would I see ’er demands met. I didn’t promise ’er nothin’ before then."

He looked from one face to another.

"An’ where’s it ever been written that nobles’d willingly get their ’ands dirty?"

That earned a few quiet scoffs.

"Think on it. Every person what came wiv ’er was a noble, save those what serve ’em. Did ye not ’ear of the gentleman makin’ a fuss over the inn last night? The one what could scarcely bear the sight o’ the place?"

A few people laughed bitterly.

"Ye truly believe men such as that’ll stand in our fields all day, knee-deep in mud, ’aulin’ stones an’ clearin’ debris?" Jim shook his head. "They won’t."

From somewhere in the middle fields, Obadiah called out.

"But what if yer wrong?"

The people turned towards him.

Obadiah had been working several rows away, his trousers stained near to the knees, his braids damp with sweat.

"What if they actually do the work?"

Jim looked at him a minute, and then the corner of his mouth lifted.

"There’s many ways ter ensure a person don’t do a thing. If they attempt ter come inter these fields, it’s quite simple." He let the silence linger a moment. "Make sure they don’t."

The people exchanged uncertain looks.

One man finally spoke.

"Ye mean obstruct ’em?"

Jim nodded.

"The princess finks she can use us. She finks she can walk inter our town, offer us ’er ’ands, an’ somehow make us grateful fer it." His expression was hard as he spoke. "We’ll show ’er we’re not people ter be used so easily."

"But we can’t send ’er away like the others," the elderly woman reminded him. "She’s a princess."

"I know," Jim said. "We cannot order ’er ter leave. We cannot simply refuse ’er as we did them what came before. But there’s nothin’ preventin’ us from makin’ the work so unpleasant she chooses ter leave of ’er own accord."

A few of the townspeople exchanged glances.

Jim continued, his voice calm.

"Let’s see ’ow long she lasts. She’ll tire of it. They all do. Once she’s ’ad enough o’ mud an’ ruined crops, she’ll show us what she truly came ’ere for."

He did not believe a word of what had been written in the letter the Crown had sent their way. For the Crown had neglected Gallowshill for years. Petitions had gone unanswered. Requests for aid had been ignored, until there was almost nothing left worth preserving. Then, of a sudden, a princess arrived with nobles in tow, claiming they had been sent to help.

Jim could not accept that without question.

"That letter said they was sent ter aid us," he said. "Very well. Where’ve they been, all these years?"

No one answered.

"Where was the Crown when the roofs began ter fail? Where was it when bandits came fer our crops? Where was it when families ’ad ter mend their own ’omes wiv whatever timber they could find? An’ now that a storm’s laid ’alf the town bare, they arrive."

The people remained silent.

"There’s somefin’ else at work ’ere," Jim said. "I don’t yet know what it is, but I intend ter find out. Let’s see ’ow well they work wiv us. Fer I ’ope they work well indeed."