Chapter 181 - 127 : Year 31 - 36 Dues and Duties (1)

Chapter 181: Chapter 127 : Year 31 - 36 Dues and Duties (1)

"I keep thinking I’ve missed something. Some expense we could put off, or some way to make better use of what we have." He rubbed a hand over his face. "But every choice seems to leave us with another problem."

She rested her hand on his cheek, turning his face towards her. "You don’t have to find every answer tonight."

"I know." He leaned briefly into her touch before looking back at the papers. "I just thought things would be easier by now. We’ve repaired the roads and helped the farms recover, but the merchants still avoid some routes, and now the drought has cost the farmers much of what they grew. We spend money trying to get things moving again, only for something else to set us back."

"The rains failing wasn’t your fault, Lucian."

"No, but it doesn’t make the consequences any easier to deal with."

"I know." Lucy brushed a loose strand of grey hair away from his forehead. "I wish things had gone differently too. But those roads needed repairing, and those families needed help. We couldn’t have known what this season would bring."

Lucian looked at her for a moment, his arm resting more firmly around her waist. "I know we did what we could. I only wish it had been enough to give us a little more breathing room."

"Perhaps it will still count for something when the rains return." She glanced down at the reports again. "And until then, we’ll have to make the best of what we have. You don’t need to settle everything tonight."

Lucy’s fingers moved gently through his hair, and Lucian stayed close to her for a little longer. But even in the quiet of her embrace, his thoughts eventually drifted back to the papers on his desk.

He had once imagined the recovery of House Veymont as a series of steps, each one leaving the family in a better position to take the next.

As the roads improved and the mines recovered, there would be more money to support further repairs, while the farms would gradually return to their former productivity. In time, the strain left by the war would ease, and the house would have room to look beyond the problems immediately before it.

Things had not gone as he had hoped. Every improvement seemed to depend on circumstances he could not control, and money set aside for one purpose could suddenly be needed elsewhere. Even sound decisions did not always bring the results he expected, while setbacks could undo months of progress.

He could deal with the problems in front of him, but he could never be certain what would arise next or how much it would cost to put right.

Lucian glanced at the reports again, then looked at Lucy beside him. He had no intention of abandoning the work they had begun, but he could no longer plan as though one success would naturally lead to another. He would have to choose more carefully where to commit the house’s money, proceed at a pace they could sustain, and leave room for difficulties he could not yet foresee.

It was not the recovery he had imagined, but it was the one he had to work with.

Year Thirty-Five

The drought had eased, but much of Veymont’s territory was still struggling to recover. Some villages had begun returning to their usual routines, while others still lacked workers and supplies. Grain prices in the city of Veymont had fallen from their highest point, but many families could barely afford enough food. House Veymont continued to help where it could, though it was becoming harder to tell which families needed only a little more time to recover and which would remain in difficulty for years to come.

Lucian instructed his officials to consider each family’s circumstances before deciding whether payments could be delayed. Families whose harvests had failed were given more time, while those whose farms had recovered enough to produce a surplus were expected to resume their payments when they could afford to do so.

The officials had to judge what each household had lost and what it could reasonably spare, rather than apply the same rule to everyone. Lucian wanted people to have a fair chance to recover without leaving House Veymont unable to meet its own expenses.

The five Viscounts beneath House Veymont faced similar difficulties. The drought had affected their lands unevenly, and while some still struggled with poor harvests and a lack of money, others had begun to recover as trade picked up and their fields produced more grain.

Lucian was willing to give them more time when their circumstances called for it, but with House Veymont’s own finances under pressure, he needed to look more closely at what each could afford to pay.

For several years, House Veymont had spent heavily on its recovery, expecting that the improvements would gradually bring in more income and ease the strain on its finances. The drought had come before much of that investment could pay off, leaving the house with the costs already incurred and less income than it had counted on.

The help given during the shortage had placed further strain on House Veymont’s finances. Even as the weather improved and trade began to return, the house was still paying for the measures needed to carry the territory through the worst of the drought. The costs had come immediately, while any improvement in income would take longer to arrive.

The treasury was not empty, but its reserves had grown thin enough that another setback could force Lucian to reconsider commitments already made. The house could still meet its current expenses, but there was little room to absorb another blow. He could not keep relying on the hope that things would improve before another difficulty arose.

That was the concern occupying his officials when the council meeting began.

Two armoured knights stood on either side of the heavy doors leading into the inner council hall. Golden hearts had been worked into the crimson cloth covering their breastplates, marking them as members of House Veymont’s castle guard. Their weapons rested at their sides as voices carried through the partly closed doors.

Inside, the discussion was already underway.

The chamber was smaller than the great hall used for formal gatherings, but it had been built to give weight to the Count’s business. Dark wooden beams crossed the ceiling, and tall windows admitted daylight through narrow openings in the stone walls. A broad oak table occupied the centre of the room. Maps of the county lay spread near one end, while ledgers, sealed reports, and loose sheets filled the space before the officials gathered around it.

Behind the chair at the head of the table hung the banner of House Veymont, its golden heart standing out against a deep crimson background. The colours were rich against the grey stone, and the emblem watched over the room as it had over generations of decisions made in the family’s name.

Lucian sat beneath it, listening while his officials worked through the figures.

At sixty, he still carried himself like a man accustomed to command. His shoulders were broad beneath his dark tunic, and his strong frame gave the impression of considerable physical power without needing to be displayed. He sat straight-backed, his hands resting calmly before him, never slumping against the chair or fidgeting as the reports continued.

His hair had always been a light golden brown, close enough to blond that sunlight could make the distinction difficult. Now silver strands had begun to spread around his temples and above his ears, though much of its warm colour remained.

His face had aged, with fine lines forming around his eyes and across his forehead, but time had not taken away the strong features that had made him handsome in his youth. His straight nose, firm jaw, and defined cheekbones remained, lending him a dignified appearance that did not depend on youth. There was still strength in his expression, and the years had given it a measured calm.

Master Corren sat beside him, leaning over a ledger. His hair and full beard were entirely grey, and years spent bent over accounts had left his back stooped and his shoulders rounded. Yet his hand remained steady as he wrote, and his sharp eye rarely missed a detail in the figures before him.

The commander sat farther down the table. He was close to Lucian’s age, but his body remained lean and powerful, his posture straight beneath his armour. The years had weathered his face without diminishing his strength, and the golden heart on the crimson cloth over his breastplate marked him as the man responsible for House Veymont’s soldiers. Two other trusted officials sat opposite him, each with reports spread before them.

One of them turned towards Lucian. "My lord, if the next payments arrive as late as the last ones, we may have to postpone some of the planned work. We have already cut what we reasonably can, and there is little left to reduce without affecting the men or the work that keeps the territory running."

Lucian gave a slight nod, inviting him to continue.