Chapter 49: Seeds

Chapter 49: Seeds

They were soon made to take seats in front of Sir Golan’s desk. Though Lucan was hurting his neck keeping his eyes fixed on the old steward beside him. His father had interrupted his questioning and insisted on letting the old man rest and take a breath before having him regale them with his experience. In hindsight, Lucan agreed.

After enjoying a moment of comfort, Thomas answered his questions before he could ask them. “I brought an apprentice.”

Lucan didn’t know how to respond to that. The steward’s ambiguous words from before had forewarned him that something unexpected had happened. But an apprentice was too far off from what he could’ve imagined.

Even his father seemed perplexed by the notion, asking incredulously, “An apprentice?”

“There were no other choices in reach,” Thomas said. “Whenever I approached any of the expert silversmiths in the city, I was told politely, and a few times impolitely, to vacate their workshop. No one was willing to make the journey, regardless of what promises and offers I made.”

“So you brought an apprentice?” Sir Golan asked again.

“He can fill the need, partially,” Thomas said, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “The lad is honest. He’ll be slower at his craft than a journeyman, and he’s not very adroit at making the most delicate of jewelry. But he can handle silverware and such easily though.”

Lucan nodded, glancing between Thomas and his father. “I suppose it will do, Father. Most jewelry is made of more than just one metal, hence I didn’t expect it to be our main focus. Silverware will be sufficient, as long as he can still fulfill any of the simpler requests for jewelry.”

Thomas nodded back. “I believe he can.”

Sir Golan sighed. “At least this means you didn’t spend the coin.”

A rueful smile came over Thomas’s face. “Sadly, I did. He needed tools, and I bought some silver for him to prove his capability with, though we can sell the latter in its current form. Cutlery.”

The knight let out another sigh, this time a tired one. “Very well. You two may handle this as you wish. It’s not as though we can stop now.” He stood up and headed for the door. “I’m going to warm my body and joust with the men.” He glanced at Lucan. “Been an age since you last jousted. Don’t neglect your training. Nothing like breaking a lance upon your enemies when the opportunity arises.”

Lucan acknowledged his father’s words with a low nod before the knight left them and shut the door.

He turned to Thomas. There was much to apprise the old steward of. He proceeded to tell him what had happened recently and it seemed to animate the man as he heard about his success with the lake.

“That is most fortunate,” the steward said with a wide smile. “It’s early, but fortunate.” He got off his seat, grabbed a map, and spread it on the desk. “Even if there are no merchants to take the salt off our hands nowadays, our neighbors and their subjects will be happy to buy it.”

Lucan hadn’t thought of that, his mind having been focused on the soon-to-come merchants, but Thomas was right. Their neighbors would savor the opportunity to buy salt from a local source. No people could live without its powers of preservation, after all. Meat, fish, cheese, and even vegetables were kept whole for longer than they could ever normally endure through the use of salt. The wealthy used it as a condiment to most of their food and would even stockpile it in anticipation of shortages.

Lucan was in a favorable mood today, particularly because he’d just tasted their first produce of salt on his morning meal. They’d had salt available in their estate’s stockpile of course, but it was a different sensation to taste the salt of the stubborn lake. Even his father had been beaming during their breakfast.

Lucan took the opportunity to observe their surroundings as the elder approached. The hovels were as he’d seen them before, crowding each other, even though there was plenty of land to build on. He assumed it created an illusion of safety for the villagers to be so close to each other. Some of the more resourceful of the settlers had built better houses with scavenged wood and stone, likely with the help of others. Perhaps they’d been the ones who succeeded in hiding some wealth on themselves during their flight from their previous homes.

He spied some of the cattle already guided by the hands of the villagers that would keep them. And far behind the small hamlet, he saw the herd of goats whose ownership would belong to those who accepted the debt Lucan offered. The residents of the new hamlet had recruited a few more of their brethren from among the laborers, particularly those who knew how to handle the new animals. Two of them were already overseeing the herd along with a lonesome dog. The goats dotted the green plain behind the hamlet, which was quickly turning black and brown as they picked it clean of anything growing from the earth. The shepherds had wisely kept them away from the farmland nearby.

The stream cut through the horizon, climbing down the elevated land, then passing by the hamlet and stretching away from it towards the saltworks at the lake’s crater. Lucan could see the workers crowding the crane over there, pulling up a bag of salt.

The hamlet’s elder interrupted his thoughts as he reached them. “Sire,” he said. “You honor us by your presence.” Then he nodded to Thomas. “Master Thomas.” The steward nodded back.

“Thank you,” Lucan said, dismounting. “I trust it has been a pleasant day for you?”

The elder nodded with a smile nearly splitting his face. “Aye, Sire, thanks to your generosity.” He gestured behind him towards the livestock.

Lucan nodded. “Don’t forget, though. It’s a debt that is to be repaid.”

“Of course, of course,” the elder said. “It shall be repaid to the copper, Sire. He glanced at the cart which was laden with barrels and coming up behind Lucan. “That is...?”

“I’ve had the fishermen near the canal source some of the smaller fish to be seeded in the stream. If you’re fortunate, it will bear fruit, and you’ll have one more thing to salt and sell.”

Again, the elder smiled, so wide his skin was stretched apart to its fullest extent. “We cannot repay your care, Sire. Thank you.”

Lucan had grown tired of amending the titles the commoners called him. He’d been called by titles he’d not earned yet, and sometimes ones that were far above his station. But after a certain time, he’d come to ignore them. It wasn’t like there were any lords nearby to be offended. So he spoke of the matter at hand right away, even as he grimaced internally at the elder’s address.

“When the time comes, I will loan you the needed salt to make this venture lucrative. I assume there are those among you that can handle the work?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the elder said. “We’ve already welcomed more of our people to handle the work needed now. We will certainly need to welcome more when the time comes, but I’m quite certain we will be able to handle it.”

“It seems you have this in hand then. Good,” Lucan said, mounting his horse again. “Because I have other things to do today. Listen to the fishermen when it comes to seeding the fish.” He nodded to the two men riding on the cart. “And do it right away.”

Instead of nodding, the elder bowed at the waist.

Lucan sighed and turned his horse away, trotting towards the lake. He’d watch the salt being extracted, before it was sent to Lord Arden. The elderly lord had been the first to respond with interest to their offer a few days ago.