Chapter 113: Gentle Giant

Chapter 113: Gentle Giant

Gentle Giant

South Hill, Great Hall

The banquet halted as Servius recounted the fall of the Nicopolans. From their high table, Lansius and Audrey noted how intently the entire chamber listened, with even the castle staff and servants straining to hear.

"There was no more food in town. The baker had closed, and everyone kept a watchful eye for chimneys billowing smoke," Servius continued his account. "For the first time in my life, I had no choice but to gather what I had and venture out in search of food. I was fortunate to have my men with me. Like nomads, we raided villages and manors for food. Without my men, my family and I would likely have ended up dead."

The guests were visibly uneasy, gripped by their insecurities. Lansius understood that, despite the guests' earlier merriment, they felt vulnerable. After all, he had just toppled their previous lord, who had reigned for over a decade. And it had all happened so suddenly, without even a warning.

"Many stragglers followed us, starving and desperate. Initially, my men chased them off, but eventually, even that became too much effort. They were too numerous. Like vultures, they scavenged the places we had raided, searching for leftover crumbs. Yet, even for us, there was hardly anything to eat." Servius paused, his sharp yet somber gaze sweeping over the guests, who sat at long tables still laden with leftover food.

"Some resorted to eating insects, rats, lizards, and even young tree bark. When those ran out, they boiled leather from pouches and shoes collected from the dead. Some hallucinated and ate wild grass. Many died en masse. I witnessed people killing each other over worn boots found in gutters." He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Then, I found help."

Many in the chamber breathed a sigh of relief.

"We encountered a large group who persuaded us to travel east through the mountains into Lowlandia. They had a large cache of food from raiding bigger manors and estates."

The guests exchanged uneasy glances. It dawned on them that they, as owners of similar manors and estates, could easily have been the victims of such raids.

Servius continued, unfazed by the guests' reactions. "I thought my men and our families were saved, but it turned out we were deceived. They wanted men to fight their war, thinking to become Lord and nobles." He sighed. "A war in the height of famine? To even attempt this foolishness was just unthinkable. However, we followed because the group was able to provide food against all odds. Unbeknownst to us, they fed us with a mixture of horse meat and human flesh."

The chamber was filled with horrified expressions and gasps, some guests turning pale. Some looked to Lord Lansius, imploring him to intervene.

One man spoke up, "My Lord, please, this is too much."

Lansius didn't budge. "You should know that all three thousand Nicopolans under my command have tasted human flesh. If I had lost the battle in Korimor, I might have been eaten," he said with a scornful laugh, maintaining the pressure. Then he added, "Everyone here would do well to listen, so the tragedy that befell these Nicopolans doesn't occur in South Hill."

With the Lord's support, Servius took center stage again. "Even before crossing into Lowlandia, the situation had become dire. We saw more and more corpses with missing limbs on the road. Fleeing groups from other towns said they witnessed how the weak and the unfortunate were butchered. But the poor had nothing left but skins and bones, and so these cannibals began to target the wealthy and nobles as if they were livestock."

The grim tale managed to instill fear, especially among the wealthy.

"Servius, enough. They've learned the lesson," Lansius declared, and the man in yellow and black turned and bowed.

A guest quickly asked, "My Lord, why are you telling us this? Is this meant as a warning?"

"A warning...? Not quite," Lansius remarked. "Did you know that the Nicopolans came to Lowlandia and laid waste to Umberland?"

The guests started to murmur among themselves, having heard nothing of this predicament.

"Servius, tell them how many of you attacked Umberland," Lansius instructed.

Servius took a deep breath and replied, "Eight thousand crossed into Umberland and raided the communities. We found food, but not enough, so we ventured further to Korimor."

The hall was in disbelief; such a large number was hard to fathom.

"In Korimor, I encountered Lord Lansius, and our two armies battled. Fortunately, Lord Lansius defeated the vile group and freed my men. It was a great victory, one I still cherish. However, Umberland, the gateway to Nicopola, remains open. The Lord and Lady have defeated one group, but more are on their way. And on this side of Lowlandia, there are only Three Hills and South Hill."

The revelation left the guests, especially the wives, even more disturbed.

A man in his late fifties, plump and well-dressed, retorted, "My Lord, forgive me, but we in South Hill have never experienced such extreme famine. Perhaps-"

"Yes, Lowlandia is more robust because we have a large number of herders. However, do you think it's feasible to survive by only eating meat alone?"

His simple question left the guests troubled.

Lansius pushed his point further. "Are there enough lambs, ducks, and, the Ageless forbid, horses for us to eat and survive Winter and Spring?"

Most guests could only stare down, some with defeated looks.

"Gentlemen and ladies of South Hill, some of you will think of my Captain's story as no more than a veiled threat. A way to scare you and to deceive you. But let it be known that I'm merely trying to save this region, its people, and all of your families included."

The shift in tone prompted the guests to look upon Lansius with renewed spirit.

"I'm sure there have been rumors about me. So let me make it clear: I don't take what isn't mine by law. I don't want to impose complicated rules. And I certainly have no right to order you to eat less. By the Ageless, I believe that everyone is entitled to freely buy what they want and to eat what they want, as long as it's not detrimental to society."

The guests' expressions lightened. One of them asked, "Then, My Lord, what do you want us to do?"

Lansius smiled. "All I'm suggesting is: Maybe we could feast with less. Perhaps, we don't need to eat this many loaves of bread or this many plates of lamb chops. Maybe some of this fruit would even taste better if dried or preserved in honey to be eaten during winter? And surely cheese is finer when aged."

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Nods of agreement followed. The idea wasn't hard or taxing to implement and in some cases had some benefit.

"Yes, My Lord. After we received news of your victory in South Hill, the Lord of Three Hills quickly rallied his supporters to back our campaign to Umberland."

Lansius exhaled deeply. "I'm relieved, but I'm surprised it took another victory to convince them."

"Lady Daniella and I wish to offer our apologies; perhaps our incompetence was the cause-"

"No, don't be. You did well. These letters, proof of purchases, and reports of winter provisions, prove that you two worked hard. Perhaps, I underestimated the complexity of the politics in Three Hills," Lansius considered. "Tell me, how's the harvest in Three Hills?"

"I heard it's not their best, but still a good harvest, My Lord. Unexpectedly, they're doing well. One more thing, I also received news that Korimor also enjoyed a good harvest."

Lansius rested his back on the seat and felt a lot of weight lifted from his shoulders. He couldn't resist chuckling.

Watching his Lord brighten, Sterling smiled. "I heard people say that every land My Lord has graced has produced a good harvest."

Lansius responded with a small grin and shook his head. "That's a dangerous idea. If next year's harvest is bad, then they'll blame me."

Sterling chuckled and then, adopting a more serious tone, spoke, "My Lord, since I'm here and Lady Daniella didn't specify for me to return, may I have my old post back?"

"You want to be my squire again?" Lansius wanted to confirm.

"Every youth in Lowlandia wishes to be your squire, My Lord."

Lansius was pleased with the praise. "Then I'll gladly have your service back."

***

South Hill Market

The next day, before midday when the market was slowing down, Sigmund and several men appeared with a donkey cart in tow. Their appearance triggered a wave of onlookers who crowded around the market's elevated platform.

"Hear ye, hear ye," Sigmund addressed the crowd. "I hold a letter from the new City Council."

He displayed a parchment with a wax seal, and the crowd looked on with intense anticipation.

"The City Council decrees: Whoever brings the donkey and the goods to the village north of the city, will receive a house and a sizable farmland."

Instead of racing toward Sigmund to accept the order, the crowd burst into laughter. The reward seemed too good to be true. Many were convinced that the council was trying to make a joke out of them.

A few approached the donkey, trying to get a feel for the beast's temperament, but were subsequently kicked or bitten. This led the crowd to laugh even more; many were brought to tears by the hilarity of the scene. Some offered encouragement, while others made jokes, as the donkey turned out to be unexpectedly fierce and strong.

When they were all defeated, the crowd called upon one name, the market's champion, Robart.

Robart emerged from the workshop where he worked. Towering over the crowd, he was a strong but gentle man with a simple mind. He wasn't interested in the commotion, finding it amusing but not for him until the crowd convinced him to give it a try.

With his maester's encouragement, Robart went to the wooden platform and accepted the challenge.

Sigmund asked, "Do you understand the assignment, or should I repeat it?"

Robart nodded, saying, "Take the donkey and the cart to the village north of here."

"Excellent!" Sigmund replied and motioned his men to give the donkey's rein to Robart.

Sigmund then nailed the letter to a wooden pole himself to mark that the job was taken.

The crowd watched in anticipation. As expected, Robart easily wrestled the donkey and guided the beast and the cart to the city gate. Many followed him eagerly as if it were a parade.

As Robart and the cart left the city, the crowd returned to their work, thinking this was nothing more than just an amusement.

Sigmund also left the market, leaving only one man in the general vicinity to keep watch.

As the sun reached its zenith and then slowly descended to the west, people began to rest from their daily labor. That's when Robart returned with the donkey cart. His return was hailed like a hero's, with people and kids crowding around him.

Before he even reached the market, people were already laughing at this apparent foolishness. "A house and a sizeable farmland, just for taking a donkey to a village? What mad jest the new council has concocted."

Nevertheless, people flocked to see the end of this spectacle, expecting a punchline. Many had placed their bets against Robart, with most betting that the Council would give nothing more than a small guardhouse and a garden with a single tree beside it. Some even bet that the Council would give a toy house and bags of soil.

Oblivious to the laughter directed at him, Robart lumbered happily to the market; he even effortlessly carried two small kids in one of his arms, all the while guiding the donkey with the other. Meanwhile, the empty cart had become a playful ride for the poor kids who worked and grew in the market.

Soon, Robart found the guard and handed over the donkey's reins, which the guard smilingly tied to a fence.

"Please wait a moment. On behalf of the Lord, the new Council shall send their men with your reward," the guard said. The crowd didn't have to wait long before the sound of hooves echoed in the distance.

***