Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Lucan was seated in front of his father’s desk in the study, getting an earful. Even Thomas, who was standing behind his father, had disapproval written all over his face.

“Disaster might as well have struck our lands,” his father said, his voice deep and tired. He’d exhausted most of his shouting earlier. Most of it.

“Father,” Lucan said beseechingly. “Why won’t you hear me? They can do the work. The roads can be done by harvest time. Then merchants will flock to us more than ever before. And the laborers only need to be fed. We’d only need to spend coin on the stone from Sir Upton’s quarry.”

“And where do you think that coin comes from?” his father growled. “We sell last year’s stockpile of grains, which you’ll be feeding your laborers. We get most of our taxes in grain, and now we’ll have to store it all in place of what will be used to carry this weight you’ve burdened us with. We should send them back.”

“No!” Lucan shouted in spite of himself. “We need them if we’re to build the roads swiftly. Relying on local laborers to both maintain the estate and build roads will take long, very long. And sooner or later they’d have to go back to their farmland, likely before we’re done. The merchants will make up for the lost coin, Father. And harvest is near. There’s nothing to fear from using our stockpiles this late in the season. It’s not like we’ll starve within two months. Besides, Sir Wolfe was already disconcerted enough by the refugees' presence by the time I’d taken them off his hands. He won’t allow them to step foot on his lands again.”

“You’d be relying on chance too much, son,” his father said, sighing. “Four hundred people! Where will they live? What will we do with them after you’re done with this ambitious undertaking of yours?”The initial instance of this chapter being available happened at N0v3l.Bin.

“For now, we can put them in the east, between the two canals, southwest of the fishermen’s hamlet. They can build their own shelters there,” Lucan said. “Later, perhaps we could expand the bailey–”

His father scoffed. “More expenses.” He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, as though dealing with one of the messes Lucan had created as a child.

“Perhaps the bailey will be busier then,” Lucan said. “When my venture succeeds–”

“Wishful thinking,” his father interrupted him again. “You only see what you want to see, son. You forgo everything else, everything you should watch for and guard against, like ruin. What do you know about administering a fief? You ought to wait years, if not decades, before making these decisions on your own.”

“Well, Father,” Lucan said, firming himself, lips pressed and back straight. “Like I said before, if you want me to partake in your responsibilities, I won’t settle for wearing armor and looking imposing.”

Lucan didn’t immediately reply, and perhaps noting the hesitant look on his face, his father continued: “Even if I don’t agree with your plans, I will seek neither to push you to failure nor to watch you idly while you fail.” He sighed, muttering, “gods know you’re doing enough of that yourself.”

Lucan set his jaw, nodding. “So you will help me see this through, Father?”

“Yes.” His father nodded. “But don’t forget...”

Lucan nodded along. “It’s my responsibility now.”

“Now then,” his father said, his voice loud with exhalation. “You were supposed to come back from Sir Wolfe’s lands having improved.”

“I did.”

“I suppose when I saw you coming back trailed by four hundred people, I lost that thread of thought,” his father said, chuckling ruefully. “I haven’t even asked Lee yet how well you’ve done.”

Lucan hoped what he did had been enough, because he didn’t know what else he could’ve done to live up to expectations. He’d ended up inadvertently going up against something even a reckless adventurer wouldn’t have gone against at his stages of the Blessing, not that he’d known how dangerous the beast was when he’d faced it. If he had, he’d have probably run to hide behind Sir Wolfe. Thankfully, he’d not shamed himself like that, and had also still kept his life.

Lucan smiled. “I believe I have given a good enough account of myself.”

“You ought to show me before you tell me then,” his father continued. “In the training yard.”

Lucan sighed. “Of course, Father.”