CH263 · Rewrite
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Chapter 263: Ripened Wheat

Under the scorching sun, Sirius Daly walked the river’s shore wearing a straw hat, moving slowly along the edge of the wheat fields to examine the growth.

Four months from planting. Today the wheat had ripened.

As far as he could see, an unbroken gold stretched to the horizon — a sea of it, thick-eared and full, each stalk heavy with grain. The caryopsis were nearly double the size of any spring wheat he had known before. He didn’t need to wait for the weighing. This was a bumper harvest, beyond any question.

The witches’ doing. Without a doubt.

He had planted alongside his father for ten years. He knew what ordinary wheat looked like: one to three ears per stalk, twenty to thirty grains per ear. Soil fertility could influence the size of the grain, yes — but doubling the caryopsis outright? That was not soil. That was something else entirely.

Much the same could be said for other changes he had witnessed since coming to Border Town. The water towers that now stood over the new district — he had examined them up close once and concluded that no human effort could have raised those steel pipes, each one larger than a residential building, almost overnight. Yet there they stood, and now the people of the new district barely needed to carry a bucket. They unscrewed a faucet and cool well water flowed out.

The same applied to the spindle-shaped islands rising from the center of the Redwater River. Since His Highness had held the Honor and Reward Ceremony, and little Miss Nana had stood on the stage before the whole town, the use of witches had become less and less hidden. Only witches could have raised those islands.

He had once asked Premier Minister Barov about it. The answer was that he didn’t need to understand. His Highness Roland had his own methods.

I presume that will have to be sufficient. After all, the royal family had always met the Church head-on, and if the Church sent troops to suppress His Highness, they would have to defeat the First Army first before anyone would listen to them. Otherwise, the Western Territory would belong to Roland Wimbledon in name and in fact alike.

Duke Ryan was only the latest example.

“Sir, you’ve come.” Two serfs in the field noticed him and came quickly forward. “You see, this section of wheat is ready — so, t-therefore, may I ask you…”

“We want to ask, Sir — does His Lordship’s previous promise still stand?”

“That’s right, that’s right,” the other serf agreed, rubbing his hands against each other nervously. “Can we really be promoted to free people?”

As head of the Ministry of Agriculture, Sirius had two main tasks beyond recording planting methods and tallying harvests: communicating policy to the serfs so that they both understood and trusted it. He did not particularly enjoy contact with these people, who spent their lives knee-deep in mud — but his knight’s self-discipline was sufficient to make him do it anyway.

“Do you see that slogan?” He pointed toward the banner at the edge of the farmland.

“Sir, I… cannot read…” the serf admitted with an embarrassed smile.

Labor creates wealth, and work changes destiny.” Sirius recited it flatly. “As long as you cultivate diligently, you have the opportunity to be promoted to free status. This is His Highness’s promise. It will be kept.”

“Is that true? That’s wonderful!”

“Once you become a free person, you can live in the town center, receive your own brick house, and claim the right to a primary education. After that, you won’t need to ask me to read the slogan for you.” He had delivered this speech so many times now that it came out nearly without thought.

“Yes, Sir.” The serf nodded rapidly. “The weather is so hot — would you like to come to my shed and have some cold water?”

“No need. You must be busy.” He waved them back toward the fields. They bowed at length before returning to their work.

This was the most frequently asked question of the past month. No matter how often he preached the policy, they came back to ask again — terrified, each time, that His Highness would revoke it overnight.

Not much farther down the road, he was encircled by another cluster. “Hello, Sir Sirius — after drying the harvest, do we truly only have to hand over seven-tenths?”

He kept the weariness out of his voice. This was the second most frequent question. “During the first year, yes. And from then on, the fraction decreases. If you are promoted to freed status, it drops to two-tenths. We have explained this many times.”

“As if I’ll ever be promoted,” a tall man said, touching the back of his head. “That remaining three-tenths — can we—”

“—can only be sold to His Highness, kept for your own food, or set aside as next year’s seed.” Sirius clapped his hands and called the surrounding serfs closer. “Everyone listen. Border Town forbids the private sale of food. It does not matter whether you sell to local townspeople or to foreign merchants — it is a violation of Border Town’s law. Your income will be confiscated and you may be imprisoned.”

“What if the Lord offers a very low price?” the tall man muttered.

“His Highness acquires grain specifically to stabilize the market price. Whether the harvest is poor or abundant, the price will not change substantially. You don’t need to hold wheat back for fear of having nothing to eat. You don’t need to worry about a surplus that can’t be sold.” He kept his voice even. “There is one place in all of Border Town where food can be sold: the convenience market, under City Hall’s management.”

“And the price will be…?”

“His Royal Highness will announce it himself before acquisition begins.”

He watched the serfs disperse in groups of two and three, licked his dry lips, and continued down the row. He did not know how many of them had taken his words to heart. Barov had made the Prince’s position clear: anyone discovered smuggling food would face severe punishment. No exceptions.

A young serf broke away from the crowd and turned back, slightly breathless. “Sir — I have one more question.”

“Yes?”

“Do you know where Miss May and Miss Irene have gone?” He hesitated. “There haven’t been any performances in the central square lately. I wanted to ask whether they were ill.”

This was a new one. Sirius felt the corner of his mouth rise almost involuntarily. He had happened to see them at City Hall completing their travel papers, which put him in a position to answer. “They went to Longsong Stronghold.”

“Ah.” The young man’s face fell. “They don’t intend to stay in Border Town?”

“They went to perform at the stronghold theater,” Sirius said, with a small shrug. “And honestly — in this heat, who would want to watch them standing in the sun and sweating through their costumes? Wait until autumn. They’ll come back with a new show for the square.”

“Oh… I see. Thank you, Sir!”

Sirius watched the young man go, contentment restoring itself to his step, and found himself thinking — not of the serfs, but of himself.

From knight to captive. From captive to City Hall officer. The past few months had been, if he was being precise, a continuous series of reversals. He no longer wanted to return to his home in Wolf territory, where there was nothing waiting for him but a shabby house and a thin strip of farmland. He had become a knight to escape his father’s life as a farmer.

Not every knight ended like Morning Light — with good land, a personal retainer, and a Duke’s favor. His salary now exceeded anything he had made in the saddle, and the room for growth was real. Perhaps it was time to bring his parents here. To find a girl. To start a life worth the name.

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