Miguel climbed the stairs of the mansion, feeling even more determined to resolve the barony's problems after his conversation with Thomas and the sight of the dying town. He headed to the room where Ricardo was recovering, hoping his friend was in a condition to talk.
Entering the room, he found Ricardo lying on the bed, propped up by pillows. The wound on his shoulder was well bandaged, and though his expression still showed traces of pain, he seemed more relaxed.
“Good morning, Ricardo,” Miguel said, approaching the bed. “How are you feeling?”
Ricardo lifted his head and smiled. “Good morning, my lord. I’m feeling better, thanks to the healer. It still hurts, but I’ll survive.”
Miguel pulled up a chair and sat by the bed, observing his friend. “I’m glad to hear that. You fought bravely yesterday. I’m impressed with your skill, even though you trained me, I had never seen you in combat.”
Ricardo chuckled softly, but his expression soon grew more serious. “You fought well too, my lord. But I must ask: where did you learn to fight like that? I was always the one who trained you with the sword, but yesterday, you seemed like a seasoned warrior, especially with that dagger.”
Miguel felt his heart race. He needed to find a convincing and realistic explanation for the skill he had displayed. The truth of his past life was not an option, so he opted for a half-truth that could satisfy Ricardo.
“It was a combination of necessity and adaptation,” Miguel began, choosing his words carefully. “When everything started, and after... after what happened to the guards, I realized I needed to fight in any way I could to survive. I’m not as good with a sword as you are, so I used what I knew to defend myself.”
Ricardo frowned but seemed to be considering the explanation. “That makes sense, but you seemed to have a clear strategy. The movements, the way you approached the enemies... there was more than just improvisation there.”
Miguel took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Before coming here, I had an interest in hand-to-hand combat. In my free time, I studied it while you were in the king’s service. It was a hobby, something that helped me stay in shape and gave me a sense of control. It didn’t have much use in a sword fight, but in a desperate situation, I used what I knew.”
Ricardo nodded slowly, accepting the explanation. “I see. You’ve always been a bit different, my lord. Perhaps I didn’t realize how much before. Your mother would be proud. Anyway, I’m glad you knew how to defend yourself. It saved us in a way.”
Miguel smiled, relieved to have convinced his friend. “I did what needed to be done. And now, we need to focus on the problems this place has. I’ve decided to help these people, not for personal satisfaction, but because I can. With the knowledge I have, I can change their lives for the better in the medium and long term.”
“Yes, I agree,” Ricardo replied, determination shining in his eyes. “This place has potential, but it’s going to take a lot of work. I’m with you, my lord. I’m not very smart, but I’ll try to help you in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Ricardo. We’ll get through this,” Miguel said, holding his friend’s hand. “Rest now. We need you strong and healthy.”
Ricardo closed his eyes, relaxing on the bed. “I’ll do my best.”
Miguel stayed there for a few more moments, watching Ricardo fall asleep. He knew that. He got up, leaving the room quietly, and began planning his next steps. He was determined to transform the barony into a place of hope and opportunity for everyone. He realized that if he wanted to survive, he would have to change the world around him somehow. In a way, his brothers had sent him to an isolated place. Even though the mercenaries they hired to kill Miguel had almost prevented his arrival, he still didn't understand why his brothers would do that.
His father, the duke, was ill, a disease he had contracted two months ago. He was no longer the same and spent all day in bed. Since then, his brothers had been indirectly competing over who would inherit the duchy. Normally, it would be the eldest son, but for that to happen, the duke would have to name him as his successor, which he had not done yet.
***
Miguel and Thomas were seated in the office designated for the baron, a room that exuded an air of old-fashioned dignity. The U-shaped desk occupied most of the space, with Miguel seated at the central end and Thomas beside him, both engrossed in a serious conversation about the barony's financial situation.
“So, Thomas,” began Miguel, glancing at the scrolls and documents spread across the desk. “What’s the actual financial situation of the barony?”
Thomas sighed, adjusting his glasses and picking up a parchment that looked more worn than the others. “My lord, the situation is not good. We have only 1000 gold coins, 300 silver coins, and 2000 bronze coins in the treasury. That’s all that’s left.”
Miguel recalled the financial mathematics lessons he had during his stay at the duke’s mansion. Each gold coin was worth 100 silver coins, and each silver coin was worth 100 bronze coins. So, for example, if we want to convert our gold coins to silver, we have 1000 gold coins multiplied by 100, which will give us 100,000 silver coins.
“I understand,” Miguel said, trying to calculate mentally. “So, if we convert everything, how much would we have in total?”
“Let’s calculate together,” suggested Thomas. He took a piece of paper and a quill, starting to write. “We have 1000 gold coins. Since each gold coin is worth 100 silver coins, that gives us 100,000 silver coins. Adding to that the 300 silver coins we already have, that totals 100,300 silver coins.”
Miguel watched attentively as Thomas continued. “Now, each silver coin is worth 100 bronze coins. So, 100,300 silver coins multiplied by 100 gives us 10,030,000 bronze coins. Adding the 2000 bronze coins we already have, the total would be 10,032,000 bronze coins.”
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Miguel nodded, absorbing the information. “I see. And how does this actually help us? I mean, what’s the purchasing power of 10,032,000 bronze coins?”
Thomas sighed again, a worried look in his eyes. “Unfortunately, it’s not as much as it sounds. The cost of living here, while lower than in the capital, is still high for such a poor barony. We need to pay for essential services, buy supplies and materials, and still deal with any emergencies that arise. The money we have may not be enough to sustain the barony for long, especially if we can’t increase our income.”
Miguel drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking. “We need a strategy to boost income and ensure the barony becomes self-sustaining. Perhaps we can explore new resources or find ways to attract more traders and visitors.”
“I agree, my lord,” said Thomas. “We need to be creative and find solutions that don’t solely rely on the reserves we have. I’m here to assist you in any plan we can develop.”
“Thank you, Thomas,” Miguel said, appreciating the butler’s honesty and support. “Let’s work on this together. We need to make this place thrive again.”
As Thomas organized the documents, Miguel reflected on the kingdom’s coin system. Each gold coin represented a significant amount, but the absolute number of coins wasn’t as large as it initially seemed. With 1000 gold coins, equivalent to 100,000 silver or 10,000,000 bronze coins, the challenge lay in transforming this value into something that could truly sustain the barony.
Miguel knew he needed to better understand the barony’s needs and resources. Talking to the residents, understanding their challenges and potential, and finding ways to improve the local economy would be crucial steps. He also considered the possibility of forging alliances with other baronies or even merchants from distant regions to stimulate trade.
The kingdom’s coin system was simple in theory but complex in practice. The value of a gold coin was high, but its usefulness depended on how it was used, not to mention there were other coins with different precious metals in the kingdom. The real challenge lay in turning these coins into tangible resources that could sustain and improve the lives of the barony’s inhabitants.
***
Arthur woke up early that morning, as he did every day. The metallic sound of the hammer against the anvil was almost a comfort to him now, a routine that kept him busy and focused even when times were tough and customers were scarce. He had been a blacksmith for years, following the profession his father and grandfather had practiced before him. However, unlike them, Arthur was facing hard times. Few were the customers seeking his services, and his work was mostly limited to repairing the local guards' weapons.
As he heated the forge and prepared for a day's work, Arthur was interrupted by the sound of his smithy door swinging open. He looked up and saw Raul, a familiar local farmer and one of his few friends in the village. Raul was a sturdy man, his hands calloused from hard work in the fields, and his expression reflected constant worry over the hardships they faced.
"Good morning, Arthur," greeted Raul, tipping his hat and wiping his sweaty brow. "Looks like we're in for a hot day today."
"Good morning, Raul," replied Arthur with a tired smile. "Yes, it seems so. What brings you here so early? Any trouble on the farm?"
Raul shook his head, stepping further into the smithy. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just wanted to chat a bit. Have you heard the news about the new baron?"
Arthur paused his hammering for a moment and looked at Raul with curiosity. "Yes, I've heard something about it. What are they saying around here?"
Raul approached and leaned on the anvil, clearly wanting a longer conversation. "Well, the villagers are cautious. No one knows much about him. Some say he's young and inexperienced, others say he's just another noble who likes to flaunt wealth and will end up draining the last resources we have."
Arthur nodded, understanding the concern. "It's natural for everyone to be wary of the new baron. After what happened with the old baron and his family, it's hard to trust someone new."
"Exactly," agreed Raul. "Many fear he may not really be interested in helping our land. That he only wants to take advantage of what little we have left. You know, spending money on luxuries while we here struggle to survive."
Arthur picked up a piece of iron and began heating it in the forge. "I understand. But we need to give him a chance. Perhaps he's different. Who knows, he might have good intentions and really want to make a difference."
Raul snorted, skeptical. "I wish I had your optimism, Arthur. But you know how nobles are. Always thinking of themselves. And we, down here, are just pawns in their game."
Arthur continued working the metal, reflecting on Raul's words. "Yes, I know. But we can't judge before we know. Maybe he's just another indifferent noble. Either way, we don't have much to lose, do we?"
"We really don't," admitted Raul, sighing. "But we also can't expect miracles. If he doesn't show results quickly, people will revolt. We're already at the breaking point."
Arthur turned the piece of metal in the forge, watching the flames dance. "You're right. We need things to change, not just promises. Let's see what he has to say. And if it's not good, well, we can always make our voices heard in some way."
Raul looked down, thoughtful. "Yes, I hope he listens to us. Because honestly, I don't know how much longer we can hold on. The harvest was poor this year, and the taxes remain high. If there's no change, many won't survive the next winter."
Arthur felt a pang in his heart hearing this. He knew the situation was dire, but hearing it from Raul, who had always been a pillar of strength in the community, made it all the more real. "We need to hold on to hope, Raul. And if he really is just another spendthrift noble, we'll have to find a way to protect ourselves and take care of each other."
Raul nodded, finally straightening up from the anvil. "You're right, my friend. We need to keep hope alive, even if it's hard. And we must be ready to fight for what's ours."
As Arthur watched Raul leave the smithy, he felt the weight of his friend's worries as if they were his own. He knew the village was at a crossroads, and the new baron would play a crucial role in determining its future. He just hoped the new baron would be different, that he would see the potential and dignity in the people who fought every day to survive.
Returning to his work, Arthur thought about what he could do to help improve the situation. Perhaps he could offer more than just weapon repairs. Maybe there was a way to use his skills to benefit the village in a more significant manner. He knew he would need to be creative and resilient, but he was determined to find a solution.
As the sound of the hammer echoed through the smithy, Arthur promised himself that he would do everything in his power to support his community and give the new baron a fair chance. After all, hope was the only thing they had left, and he wasn't willing to give it up so easily.
Because the village was without a baron, many of the merchants were hesitant to do business in this place, and the steward of the mansion became the new administrator and always made the most to help the people here, but he is not a noble so other nobles from other parts of the kingdom do not accept to do a lot of business.
Arthur looked at the piece of iron he was shaping and thought about how it could be a metaphor for his own life and the lives of everyone in the village. Raw iron, with work and patience, could be transformed into something strong and useful. Perhaps the same could be said for the barony under the leadership of the new baron. Only time would tell, but Arthur was willing to give the new baron the benefit of the doubt and work towards a better future, regardless of the challenges they faced.