Chapter 156 Proposals

Lucien settled into the unfamiliar chair and looked around the interior of the gathering hall.

Despite the months since he had arrived in Ashridge, this was the first time he had set foot inside the building. It made sense in a way, considering how the villagers usually used it and his own lack of interest in alcohol.

Tables and chairs had been pushed to the side of the room, leaving the center open for the villagers who had come to present their proposals.

A small area had been left open for the relatives of those presenting their proposals to gather and show their support.

Elias adjusted the stack of parchment near him before taking one from the top and placing it in front of Lucien. "We have ordered them as best we could, My Lord. There were a few last-minute additions last night, but we should be able to hear all of them by day's end."

"Let us get started then, Elias. Call the first one in," Lucien replied, leaning back in his chair.

At his words, the steward inclined his head and gestured to a guard standing by the entrance.

The man saluted before opening the doors, and a wave of sound that had been muffled until then spilled into the room.

Loose groups of villagers entered, dipping their heads toward him as they were guided by a militiaman to where they were supposed to wait.

Judging by the number of people, the definition of relatives had been stretched rather generously.

He couldn't help but stare as more and more people entered.

Turning slightly to Elias, he gestured to them. "...I thought we said relatives only, Elias?"

"Peasants have...large families outside of their immediate ones, My Lord," the steward replied, a dry expression forming on his face.

When the number grew almost too large, Lucien wondered whether he should stop them and clarify his orders. Before he could do so, a voice cut in.

"Alright, that's enough now! Didn't we say no more than ten of you lot?"

Marcus, wearing leathers instead of the armor his household guards typically wore, strode into the room.

He pointed almost accusingly at a man, though it was made lighter by the slight grin on his face.

"You! You're barely even related to him!"

The villager glanced away from him. "He's my second nephew from me mum's side, but I've known the lad since he was crawling. I'm practically his uncle."

Marcus went over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Not sayin' you ain't close. But it's not like you'll hear the result now. Lord Lucien said those will be out by tomorrow."

At the guard's words, the man, along with more than a few of the people who had initially shown up, began to exit the gathering hall, though not without a few silent grumbles.

It seemed that after the battle with the Broken Tusk, Marcus's reputation had risen sharply among the villagers. Dorian had done well by assigning him to manage the crowd today.

The captain himself might have had the same effect, but his presence would have made the atmosphere far too tense for what Lucien was trying to do.

When Marcus spotted him watching, he gave a lazy salute and bowed once, then left the room to join the others standing guard outside.

Besides Marcus, Henric had also been assigned to act as a counterweight to the guards'...relaxed behavior.

A soft breath left Elias as he shook his head in disapproval. "That guard...he grows far too familiar with you, My Lord."

"It's fine as long as he doesn't step too far over the line, Elias."

The steward remained silent, though Lucien doubted he agreed with his assessment.

As Lucien read the parchment Elias had placed before him, it did not take long for the first villager of the day to come through the doors.

The younger man walking in tried to look confident, though his efforts were marred by the way he continued to grip the side of his trousers.

He approached the table and bowed low. "M-milord."

Lucien returned the gesture, waving at the parchment. "You want to establish a carting service of sorts?"

"Aye, Milord." He hesitated, unsure whether to continue explaining his idea or remain silent.

Only after Lucien waved did the man clear his throat. "T-there's a lot of building being done in the village now, Milord. So I thought we could gather all the free oxen and carts in one place. Make it easier to transport goods between the ridge outpost and the village."

The man looked up, as though checking to see if he should continue after speaking at length.

Upon seeing Lucien still listening intently, he straightened before speaking, the words coming out more quickly now. "I got the idea while working at the irrigation ditch, Milord. We had more than a few delays because there were too few carts to go around."

"We can even use the service for trade with Helvarn and Cragwatch as well...though it depends on how many oxen we can gather for it. Would be nice to have horses, but there are even fewer of those in the village."

Lucien rubbed his chin, his gaze lowering to the parchment once more as the man fell silent.

Slowly, he inclined his head. "The idea has merit. Transportation is one of the bottlenecks in both trade and construction."

The man perked up at his words, though he soon became crestfallen when Lucien shook his head.

"But Ashridge needs all of its hauling capacity for its current projects. We simply don't have enough oxen or horses to spare for this as of yet."

"...Aye. Truth be told, I thought as much as well, Milord. I wanted to change my idea, but I...couldn't think of anything better," the younger man replied, his hands finally releasing their grip on the sides of his trousers.

Lucien gestured to the parchment. "Some of the details here still need work, such as the matter of allocation. In the future, you should look into confirming the number of oxen and horses we would need."

The man's eyes widened. "In the...future, Milord?"

His brow lifted. "Yes? I did say your idea has merit, but we can't implement it yet."

"I-it's just...aren't you only choosing five for today, Milord?"

Lucien shook his head. "Yes, for today. But it is not as if being rejected here means you are barred from trying again, even with the same idea."

He met the man's eyes. "It is only normal to fail the first time when you are trying something new. Take this idea you have, improve upon it, and come back again next time."

The man straightened, then dipped his head. "Yes, Milord."

He flushed when his relatives, who had been watching closely, began cheering as though his proposal had been accepted.

As they made their way out of the building, an older villager who bore a resemblance to the young man patted him on the back.

Lucien watched them leave, the familiar gesture stirring an old memory before a cough from Elias drew his attention.

At his questioning look, the steward folded his arms behind his back. "I will hold on to the ones with potential for record keeping, My Lord."

Passing the parchment to the steward, Lucien inclined his head. "My thanks, Elias. Send the next one in."

The next villager was older, with broad shoulders and a slightly stiff gait. He wore slightly finer clothes, and as he approached, Lucien found himself vaguely recognizing him as one of the farmers under Bran from the eastern fields.

He stopped before the table and bowed. "Milord."

Taking the next parchment from the top of the stack, Lucien glanced down at it. "This is...a pottery yard?"

The broad-shouldered farmer gave a nod. "Aye, Milord. My wife's been complaining about the prices of pots and urns. We make some of our own, but it's shoddy work compared to a proper potter."

He ran a hand across his beard. "And after those water gates were built, we found plenty of clay slightly downriver by our fields. Water level's lower now, so hauling it back to a yard and making pots for folk here would be cheaper."

Lucien's eyes sharpened at the unexpected news. "How large is the clay deposit?"

"It runs along the river downstream, Milord. Didn't go too far to check, but what's close by is enough to last us for a good while."

With the number of new households, there would be more demand for pottery. The clay itself was useful for plenty of other things like roof tiles, chimney components...perhaps even fired bricks in the future.

Though he couldn't help but glance at the parchment. It didn't look like the work of one of the scribes or Alicia.

"Who wrote this for you? The handwriting is unfamiliar to me."

To his mild surprise, the broad-shouldered man chuckled. "It's Bran, Milord. I came to him about my idea, and he offered to write it...as practice. Apologies for the oaf's ugly letters, Milord."

The corner of Lucien's mouth twitched. "I see...and you even prepared the names of those who will be helping with your fields."

"Aye, Milord. Went to our potter and asked him about it too. If this proposal gets accepted, he'll be managing it along with me, teaching the new workers how to make decent pottery."

Lucien rubbed his chin, eyes lowered as he tried to recall. "Yours is the northern strip, I believe? A pottery yard and fields of that size...that is quite a lot to manage."

The man scratched the back of his head. "Didn't expect you to remember, Milord."

Composing himself quickly, he patted his chest. "But I've been watching my son, and he's ready to take the reins. Wanted to start something new myself too...can't let Bran get a big head thinkin' he's the only one who can think ahead."

It seemed Bran's upcoming appointment as Reeve was already having an effect among his peers.

Lucien regarded the broad-shouldered farmer for a brief moment before inclining his head. "We will let you know the results tomorrow."

The man bowed and turned, his group of supporters following behind him as they exchanged quiet words among themselves.

Elias took the parchment and set it aside. "A pottery yard...perhaps even more. It has potential if we can assess the quality of the clay, My Lord. Such wares would fetch a fair price in both Helvarn and Cragwatch."

Taking up a quill, the steward glanced at him. "Shall I mark it as one of the five to be decided later, My Lord?"

Lucien took the next proposal from the stack. "Yes. And look through our labor records to see if we can find anyone among the refugees with previous experience in pottery."

The day flew by as he went through each of them, the stack growing smaller as one villager after another came by to give their ideas and answer any questions he had.

Some were like the young man from the first proposal. Their ideas had merit, and Lucien would have considered implementing them if not for the numerous constraints.

They left slightly disheartened, though judging by the glint in some of their eyes, he could expect more than a few to return.

Others went into the much smaller pile of promising proposals, which he would look through again later in the evening.

Just as he was beginning to grow used to the process, the next group of applicants entered, led by a young woman.

Much like the broad-shouldered farmer, Lucien recognized the young woman from a more recent memory, just a few weeks ago.

It was the woman who had been soliciting...customers in front of the gathering hall.

They made to approach, only to stop when the young woman met his eyes and stiffened. She glanced away from him even as she walked forward, almost as though forcing herself to continue.

Apparently, she had found out he had been watching her that day.