I’m going to try for a one a day week. I might miss a day along the way though: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 20 – Sarn

As the wagon train rolled into Sarn the next day at noon, Stone reflected that the streets of the town were not paved in gold. Instead it looked like they were paved in horse shit. Apparently no one was cleaning the streets any longer, and in a world where horse and oxen were the main means of transport, it showed. And the street the wagons came in on was also the main way out of town, so its heavy use showed.

Apart from the filthy streets, the town looked empty. Where Greenford and Greenwood were booming, Sarn looked like a ghost town. Empty buildings and unused businesses were the norm on the road into town. To her dismay, many of the businesses that Rayla had shopped at before now had boarded up windows.

As they came in, Barrykin, the miller’s man, pointed out his former employer’s place of business. The wagons stopped outside, pulling over to the side of the road: there were still loaded wagons piled with household possessions trying to leave town every few minutes.

As they entered the yard, Stone noticed unusual looking wagons sitting in a corner of the yard. He remembered seeing similar wagons before, with very wide wheels. He pulled up a tarp, and saw a brand on the wood of the tailgate. Lifting the tarp higher, he saw that a millstone was beneath. He dropped the tarp and Barrykin fastened it back, following Stone on foot.

Stone got off Doug and strolled over to the main house in front of the mill buildings and banged on the door. Finally a man came to the closed door and shouted past, unwilling to open up: “We have nothing. No grain came in this week. You have taken all our flour and grain. Nothing is left. Go away.”

“We are not who you think we are,” Stone shouted back. “Open up. We wish to do business.” The door opened a crack, and an old man looked out.

“Barrykin,” he said when his eyes lighted on his former employee, standing beside Stone. “You have returned.”

“Aye,” the man said. “And I may have brought your salvation. Let the Captain in. He is not a Duke’s man.”

“Well I hope not. They came yesterday and got nothing. We have had trouble just keeping enough hidden to make our own bread. They used to say ‘A miller’s family never goes hungry’. Well that isn’t the case in Sarn.”

“You have mill stones in those wagons,” Stone said. “We wish to buy them.”

“Buy? With a chit from the Duke that will never get redeemed? I have a pile of those already in my office,” the miller said.

“Your former man told you I am not a man of the Duke,” Stone said. “I will pay with gold coins. How many will I need?”

“Thirty, no 40,” the man said.

“I will pay 50 if I can have the wagons they sit in,” Stone said. “Do you have horses?”

“Not enough for those,” the miller said. “You will need four for each wagon, and spares beside. Best talk to Costrain at the auction house. He sells horses now.”

“Costrain?” Stone asked. “I know that name. Did he run the slave market in the past?”

“Aye, but when slaves were made free, he lost his stock. The Duke had a pile of horses and gave some to compensate for the slaves he had to free. No one else got compensation though. And Costrain bought the rest of the horses that came from the battles against Kona for a song. The Duke needed the gold more than horses to feed.”

“We will see him later then, perhaps after I visit the Duke,” Stone said. “You said you have some flour hidden away. How much? I’m buying, not taking. Two silvers a bag?”

“I think we can find five or six bags,” the miller said. “For ready coin?”

Rayla had come up, and she started counting gold coins. She dropped 50 gold and a small gold, worth 10 silver, into the miller’s hand as his eyes got wider and wider.

“There will be more if there are more than five bags,” she said. “Or we could trade: we have some vegetables and dried beef in the wagon.”

“We’ll trade,” a voice from behind said as a woman strode up from the back of the house. Seeing Rayla let her know that women could be involved in this business. “We haven’t had potatoes for so long, or beef. One can only live on bread for so long. The men will be glad of a good meal.”

“The men?” Stone asked. “Are they slaves or free?”

“They were slaves, but now are free,” the miller said. “Not that there is that much difference. I haven’t paid them for the past two months.”

“But you will now,” Stone stressed, looking at the gold Rayla had put into his hand.

The miller looked down and then consented. “Yes, I will pay them. But that means they will just run away north with the others.”

“Maybe not,” Stone said. “Do you have a supply of grain coming in to mill?”

“A bit,” the miller said. “Barely enough to keep the old stone busy. There was no need to install the new one, even if I still had the men to do so. The old cracked stone is working fine for the little product we get.”

“There might be more business coming in the next few weeks,” Stone said. “Who are your customers? Is there a bakery?”

“Aye, I had a baker who bought a lot from me in the past. None for the last few months though. Any bread or rolls he made were just confiscated by the tax men.”

“Have your men ship this flour to him, and tell him to use it to make buns. No charge, say it is a gift from the Captain. We have seen the people of this town, and they look hungry. He is to give the buns to the people. We hope to have a soup and stew kitchen set up tomorrow or the next day. He can send the rolls there.”

Rayla and the miller’s wife came back with potatoes, carrots, and turnips and a large slab of dried beef. They dropped it all in the miller’s kitchen, and Rayla came back, with a ‘Are you ready?’ look on her face. Stone nodded and they left, saying they would pick up the stones on the way out of town.

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The Duke of Sarn grimaced as he looked at his dinner guests. There was only 50, half of what he preferred. But things were bad, and no one seemed willing to travel to Sarn these days, for some reason. But the first course of the meal was being served, with a long line of serving men coming through the doors, each holding a silver platter. Wait … was it? Yes, there were eight serving women at the end of the line.

“Lord Chamberlain,” the Duke said in an unfriendly voice. There was an ugly, long red scar along the side of the Duke’s face. “What is the meaning of this? Women serving? Surely you know better.”

“Sorry Your Grace,” one of the guests said. “There is a shortage of serving men in the castle at this time. I mean, they have been flocking out of the castle these past few days, especially since the rations were cut for the servers.”

“Send troops out to arrest them and bring them back. They are still slaves. I only freed the people outside the palace,” the Duke snorted. “Get on it Captain Mitchell.”

“I’m sorry Your Grace,” the military man standing behind the Duke said. He had two scars, arrow wounds suffered from Rayla, one on each cheek. “But there are no more troops. I am the last one. When pays stopped, they grumbled. But when the food stopped, they never returned from their duties.”

“Hrumph,” the Duke said, turning back to his meal. He lifted the lid on the plate, and looked inside. “Whatever is this?”

“I believe it is porridge,” said a portly man, nearly as fat as the Duke. “Quite tasty … for porridge.”

“This is an outrage,” the Duke shouted, pushing the dish away. “Call the chef. I will get to the bottom of this. Porridge for starters at my table?” A server darted from the room.

Minutes later the chef appeared.

“What is the meaning of this? How dare you serve porridge for starters at my table,” the Duke shouted.

“I apologize,” the Chef said. “But it is not starters, but the entire meal. This is the only food in my kitchen.”

The Duke turned to the obese man. “You are in charge of procurement,” he accused. “Why is there no food?”

“There is not enough money in the treasury to buy food in the quantities we require,” the man said timidly. “For the past two months we have been sending soldiers out with the tax collectors, to encourage the people to contribute food in lieu of taxes. But of late there have been fewer and fewer of these men coming back, and no food.”

“But I am the Duke. I rule this duchy. How dare the people starve me in my own home. Am I to be relegated to eating horse food?” The Duke pushed the meal away again.

“I would eat that if I were you,” Stone said. He had been standing at the edge of the Great Hall through all of this. “You will not be getting anything else.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” the chef said.

“This is your fault,” the Duke snarled at Stone. “You made me free all the slaves, and that started this, as well as taking two of my villages from me.”

“And have you freed the slaves? I heard you claim that the serving men were still slaves a minute ago.”

“Well you can’t expect me to free the castle slaves. There are hundreds of them, I cannot afford to pay salaries to each of them.”

“Too bad,” Stone said. “It is clear you have been living beyond your means for some time: lavish dinners and huge armies. You taxed your people into poverty, and then demanded more and more. It is over. You are out of food, and probably out of money too. And all the servants in the castle are now free.”

“Lord Exchequer: is it true? Am I out of money?”

“There is about 50 gold in the treasury,” another noble reported.

“You won’t need that much to leave, I hope,” Stone said. “Where will you go?”

“Go? I mean to stay here.”

“And eat what? The oats from the stable will only provide a few more meals.”

The Duke took a spoonful of porridge. He was hungry, after all. He shuddered at the commonness of the taste, and pushed the bowl away again. “My sister married the Duke of Attrak years ago,” he said. “She will take me in. They have lavish dinners there,” he smiled, then frowned, “but I will just be a guest, not the host.”

“When can you leave?” Stone pressed.

“A few weeks,” the Duke dithered.

“That is a long time without food,” Stone suggested. “Perhaps you will want to leave tomorrow. I will allow you 10 gold for travelling expenses.”

“That is my money,” the Duke retorted. “And 10 gold will not last even a day to look after the entire court.” He waved his arm around the room.

“I don’t think all of these people will go with you. Will you accompany the Duke, Captain Mitchell?”

“Aye,” the soldier said. “I will go. There will be need of another experienced soldier in Attrak. I will accompany the Duke and his family on the trip.”

“I will not go,” a young man seated near the Duke said, standing. “I have watched you fritter away my inheritance for years, father. I will stay. This town is my home, and my friends live here.”

“Ronald, no!” said the portly woman next to the Duke. “You must come with us.”

“I am staying, if this man allows it.”

“You can stay, if you like. There is much to do in this town for those willing. You will not be Lord over all, but if you work, you will eat. The streets need cleaning for one thing.”

“No son of mine will shovel dung from the streets,” the Duke bellowed.

“I will,” the boy said. “It will be more than you have ever done for this town.”

“What gives you the right to take away my son, and my dukedom,” the Duke shouted at Stone.

“This,” Stone pulled Pate from her sheath. She started singing, although only Stone could hear. “She has tasted your blood once, and would dearly love some more. “Do you wish to fight for your duchy?”

The Duke went pale, and had to grab to edge of the table to stay erect. His hand reached up and flet the scar. “No. I will go. Tomorrow. Arrange things, Lord Chamberlain. Lord Chamberlain? Where is everyone going?”

“Fleeing a sinking ship, I warrant,” Stone said. “I will have my men prepare your carriage for the morn. Remember, the sooner you leave, the sooner you eat. There will be one baggage wagon.”

“I require 15 for all my goods,” the Duke said.

“You will get one, unless you have drivers for the others.”

“You, you and you,” the Duke pointed to various servers still in the room.

“I cannot drive a wagon, and won’t,” the first man said. The others nodded in agreement. “That man said we are free now.”

“One wagon,” Stone said. “The Captain will drive it for you. You will have to drive your carriage yourself.”

“Ronnie, you will come and drive the carriage,” the Duke begged.

“No father. I stay here.”

“You best go to your quarters and pack a few trunks for one wagon and whatever will fit in the carriage,” Stone warned. “I will send a patrol of six men with you for your protection from bandits. I suspect that bandits along the way won’t be happy to see you, for forcing them into that way of life.

The Duke hurriedly finished his porridge, and then went upstairs. Stone had sent soldiers to the rooms of all the others, and found that there were stashes of gold in most of the rooms occupied by the court officials. In total there were 300 golds. Apparently the Duke was not the only one draining the ducal treasury.

Stone took the money, other than 15 gold that he passed to Captain Mitchell, who would be in actual charge of the two wagons going south. If the Duke held the money he would probably waste it giving a banquet along the way. He also told Mitchell that the six soldiers would ensure that the Duke would not attempt to extort any ‘taxes’ from any of the towns or villages along the way. The additional five gold were to ensure that his men were fed.

Stone and his remaining men then headed off to the slave trader’s lot. He had met Costrain when he first came to Sarn, before the war with Kona. He had consigned several slaves who refused their freedom. It would be interesting to see how the man had adapted to having horses as livestock instead of people.

“Hello. I need to buy twelve horses. Large ones, for pulling wagons,” Stone asked the man. Each of the millstone wagons would need four horses, with four more to provide a team to spell the others off.

“I have some big ones,” Costrain said. “But not as big as the one you are riding.”

«Get mares, not geldings,» Doug insisted.

«We will take what he has,» Stone mentally replied.

«Damned eunuch horses,» Doug replied.

“So how has business been?” Stone asked the man after he sent a helper off to round up the horses. Apparently most of the horses were grazing on common land south of the city.

“Terrible,” the man said. “I enjoy working with horses more than my former stock, but business has been terrible. There is a glut of horses in town due to so many coming back from the war, but I got them cheap and they feed themselves in the common fields. But no one has any money. Will you be paying cash or barter?”

“Cash,” Stone said, and that caused the dealer to break out into a large smile.

“Good. Maybe I can get some real food tonight. I know a grocer who has some hidden away, but he will only part with it for cash. Horses of the size you want should cost a gold each, but with the market the way it is, I will sell the 12 for six gold.”

“Things are rough around here then?” Stone prompted.

“Yeah. I put down an old horse once a week for the meat. I have a saddler and a smith that join in, trading meals for their services and it usually lasts the week. We also make a stew up for the starving people in the neighborhood. It gives them a meal once a week. Keeps some of them alive. Things have to get better.”

“I think they will,” Stone said. “I know that the Duke is leaving tomorrow, so there should be no more over-taxation. Slowly business should return to normal.”

“That is a relief, but I wonder if I would be better off moving north. I have a bag of gold buried that would help me along.”

“Well, I can’t say so much for Greenford or Greenwood,” Stone said. “But I know that horses are in large demand up in Greenstone, the new town. There are people who are settling farms in the Greensward all the time, and they need horses. The town tries to give them one each to get started, but as they start getting crops in they will have the cash to buy a second. Pulling a plow with two horses is much more effective compared to a single horse.”

“I shall think of that,” Costrain said. “I want to stay here at least a little longer. If I can’t feed the hungry, I will feel bad.”

Stone immediately felt this was a good man, in spite of his former occupation. He scooped out several golds from his bag. “Here are 8 more gold, he said. With this you will cull 16 geldings over the next month, and continue to feed the people, but with a meal every day, if not two. People will help, in return for food. In fact, I would like to find some farmers with oats, so that an oatmeal breakfast. The Duke may consider that horse food, but starving people will be glad to have it.”

“I know of some farmers,” Costrain said. “The last few horses I sold were in trade for oats, which I later traded or fed to the horses. I might have enough left for one breakfast.”

Stone handed him another four gold. “I trust you to use it wisely, and provide a second meal a day for the people. Tell them you will only feed them for a month, and by the end of that time they will have to find jobs, or emigrate north. They might miss a meal or two travelling, but they will be fed in Greenwood and Greenford, and if they reach Greenstone they will be fed until they find work.”