The faces of every villager darkened at his outrageous declaration. They had only paid the annual tax a month ago, and now the Baron was asking for more? The excuse of assisting the war effort was completely bogus, everyone knew that the Faust Barony had only sent around fifty to a hundred knights to the border. If they had to give up this many livestock, it was likely that half of the village wouldn’t make it through the next winter. The enormous youth, the aforementioned Sir Faust, sneered in righteous indignation as he looked down on the peasants surrounding his entourage. The eldest son of Baron Faust was just as notorious as his father for being greedy and cruel, and having lived in excessive luxury his entire life, he was a spoilt, immature brat despite almost being in his twenties.
The villagers were seething with righteous anger and indignation at the absurd demands being made of them, yet none of them present dared to voice their opposition and risk facing capital punishment. Knowing the boy’s temper, it was likely that if any of them so much as whispered a complaint they might be executed where they stood. Sir Faust sneered, declaring, “you have until sunset to prepare the tax, if there is a single animal or gram of wheat missing there will be consequences. I’m sure I don’t have to explain what that would entail.”
This was the harsh reality of this world. Teron was a place governed by the law of the jungle, and only if you had sufficient strength would you be able to live as you desired. For those who were ordinary and powerless, the only fate that awaited them was to be trodden on and oppressed, living in servitude to those who had been born with a little more talent or wealth. Elaria remembered Zel’s description of her new home six years ago when she’d arrived in this place, ‘it’s basically a dump.’ Having experienced life here for herself, she hadn’t found that description to be accurate, since despite the lack of riches, she had been brought up with love and affection. In this moment however, she felt that it was a fitting slogan.
The bulging noble and the knights commandeered the village chief’s house to rest in while they waited for the sun to set. The poor man was almost in tears watching them stomp around his modest house, trashing the place and eating half his larder. Some of the precious food had even been fed to the floor, when Sir Faust declared that it wasn’t fit for human consumption. At the start of the day there had been enough stored in the house to last until the last harvest before winter, but now the other villagers would have to spread their own stores thin to help out their chief. Those present in the village rushed out to the fields to inform the men and women working about what had happened, and to bring them to help with the organisation of the tithe.
Elaria had sprinted as fast as she could to where she’d left her father with his lunch, naively hoping he would have some kind of solution to the issue. When she informed him of the earlier events, he sighed heavily, looking to the sky and whispering a prayer to the goddess. Of course, as an ordinary farmer, there was nothing Darius could do but follow his furious daughter back to the village and assist his neighbours and friends with rounding up the livestock and taking the wheat from their own stores to add to the growing collection in the middle of the village street. Elaria was extremely depressed. It seemed that no matter what world one was in, the common theme was inequality and the tyranny of the wealthy. While capitalism back on earth had propelled the ordinary classes into a better standard of life, in many ways it had exacerbated the huge gap between rich and poor, leaving the wealthy with an exaggerated amount of power and control over society. It seemed things weren’t much different here, the only difference being the presence of magic and the Chain.
Deep in the mire of her own melancholy thoughts, she failed to stop herself from walking straight into Jacob, who was looking absolutely enraged and had been in the middle of storming away from his house. The two collided with a thump and she fell to the ground. He was about to berate the hell out of whichever idiot hadn’t been looking where they were going, before he realised that it was Elaria. He reached out his hand and helped her to her feet, brushing the dirt from her dress, his anger dissipating now he was in the company of his closest friend.
“Looks like you’re in just as shite a mood as me, little Elaria. That bloody oversized pig Sir Faust and his shitty father. Just because one of their ancestors was a bit stronger than everyone else, they think they can do what they want to the people of this land. Baron Faust is barely strong enough to hold a candle to most of the nobility, yet he behaves as if he’s the emperor himself around these parts. I reckon once I have my birthing ceremony next year, I’d probably be able to beat Sir Faust silly with just one hand. I just can’t stand seeing them walk all over us and treat us like dirt, even though it’s our hard work that puts food on their bloody tables,” he roared, frothing at the mouth.
Elaria panicked and covered his mouth with one of her hands, shouting, “have you got a deathwish, you idiot? I understand how you feel, but if Sir Faust or any of his knights heard you say that, they’d have you beaten or killed on the spot.”
Luckily, there was no one else nearby, or the consequences would have been dire for the both of them. Elaria grabbed his hand and led him to her house. If he was left around the Baron’s emissaries, who knew if he would be able to stop himself from doing something stupid. What would she do if her best friend, this silly, mischievous boy who’d been one of the brightest lights of her new life, ended up getting himself killed in a futile act of resistance. Then again, even though he had a tendency to misbehave, he was a hard worker, often helping his father in the butcher’s shop, and would never back down in the face of injustice. It was one of the reasons she was fond of him. They tried to relax, playing a game with some roughly carved wooden dice Vera had painstakingly crafted for her daughter. It was a hopeless endeavour, the grim weight of the situation hanging over their heads like a guillotine left little room for fun.
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After a while, she couldn’t stand being cooped up any longer, and they went to see if they could help the villagers to finish gathering the tax payment. She warned Jacob not to do or say anything stupid, but he simply rolled his eyes and mumbled something about her not being his mother. That earned him a slap on the side of his head, and a faint red welt. Upon nearing the centre of the village, they met her father, and asked where they could be of help. He told them to assist with tying up the bushels of wheat and loading them onto carts. The eight knights were supervising as the villagers went about the work, gathering bundles of wheat together and tying them securely, before hefting them up onto their backs and loading them onto a series of carts prepared to transport them to Castle Cordwen, Baron Faust’s seat of power.
The sun was slowly setting, and everyone picked up the pace, desperate to avoid the worst scenario of missing Sir Faust’s deadline. Nobody was under any illusion about his personality, he was not the type to forgive them for being even a minute late. The knights were just as cruel as their master, and Elaria often witnessed them tripping people up while they were carrying heavy loads, or inciting the cows and sheep to run amok, as the villagers struggled to keep them reined in. It was like they wanted them to fail, so they could dish out some punishment. Was this the so-called code of chivalry of the knights? What a joke.
Despite the constant torment and harsh time limit, with everybody pitching in to help, the village managed to get the entire amount demanded ready and packed in the centre of the village just before the last rays of sun set over the distant horizon. Sir Faust leisurely strolled out from the chief’s house, looking a little disappointed that they had actually managed the seemingly impossible task. He had been incredibly bored of late, and had set them that limit in hopes they would fail, and he would get to chop off a head or two. He loved watching the cries of anger and despair of peasants when his men executed their family members.
After being helped onto his horse by two of the knights, one of whom looked as if his back was about to snap in half as he struggled to hold the massive weight of his lord, he looked over the gathered offering, glowering at the gathered villagers.
“Hmph, giving such ragged cattle and sheep, it seems the people of Reissdown don’t have much respect for the brave armies at the northern border. If I was you, I would be embarrassed to hand over such sickly animals. What a bunch of worthless trash. You’re lucky I don’t have the lot of you whipped for such a shoddy offering,” he sneered.
His words cut deep, but the villagers were used to such treatment. With how heavily we get taxed by your father, how could we spare more food than necessary for our livestock? They grit their teeth, not allowing themselves to be goaded by his provocation and risk facing a punishment harsher than a nasty insult. However, not everyone had a good grasp on their temper, especially the valiant young Jacob. Unable to bear it any longer, he launched a stone at Sir Faust, clinking off his shoulder and only leaving a tiny scratch on the shining silver pauldrons, shouting out, “What would you know, you ugly, bloated bastard? We slave away all year just to survive, only for lazy, entitled noble scions like you to come and make light of our efforts. I bet you’ve never worked a day in your life, so what gives you the right to say such bullshit?”
Every single person turned to stare at the boy, mouths wide and eyes widened in abject horror. His scathing declaration couldn’t have been more sincerely understood by all of them, but by saying it out loud, he had just unleashed a terrible fate on himself, and knowing the cruel tastes of Sir Faust, the whole village could be dragged in to face the consequences by his side. Elaria’s heart jumped into her throat, her worst fears had come true, and she could only watch as the young lord began screaming in rage, ordering his knights to grab Jacob and drag him out of the crowd. He resisted desperately, but a nine year old who hadn’t even had his birthing ceremony was a poor match for eight fully armoured knights with top of the line training. One of them smashed a gauntleted fist into his stomach, and he keeled over, gasping for breath. Two others grabbed his arms and hauled him out of the crowd, tossing him into the dirt in front of Sir Faust.
The lord raised his hand, preparing to give the order to slaughter the rebel, when a beefy man with cropped, greying hair rushed out and threw himself between the two, prostrating on the ground.
“My lord, please spare my ignorant son, he’s only a child and knows not the way of the world. As his father, it is my fault for not teaching him properly,” he exclaimed, not daring to raise his head.
The man was Jacob’s father, Lee, the local butcher. The furious expression on Sir Faust’s face warped into one of evil glee. This was his favourite part of these moments, when people would beg and plead with him to spare their life or the life of their loved ones. It gave him great pleasure to see their reaction when their indignant cries went ignored. Just then, he had a wonderful idea. He clapped his hands, smiling widely, and said, “How right you are, my dear subject! It is indeed the fault of the parents if the child grows up to be an ignorant fool. Since the sins of the child are the sins of the parent, it’s only right for you to be punished. Men, drag his wife out here too.”