The riders that had been approaching had been as I expected, the mercenary commander Barry, my Steward Vernon and the platoon of mercenaries. Barry was red faced when he rode up, in a high-pitched voice demanding, “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Your men have been caught raiding my father’s land,” Theo answered.

“You’ve no authority here!” Barry protested.

“But I do,” I added.

“Milord, if you allow this travesty of injustice to pass, I fear that we cannot make a contract.”

I laughed at that. “You’re an idiot if you think I’ll pay three times the amount of an elite mercenary squadron, yet only receive three fourths of one.”

With a sneer, I added as I looked around at his men, “Of questionable quality.”

“Milord!” he protested.

“Your men will disarm, and leave my land when Theo takes his prisoners to bring before his father. Your arms will be returned when Theo finds it prudent,” I said.

“We will not,” the senior squad leader besides Barry shouted, going to draw his musket. I slammed my power onto it and made sure he could not complete his action. I levelled my own musket at the man.

“Attempt that and you die. Lay down your weapons,” I said once more, as the soldiers started to move in on the mercenary platoon.

Barry commanded his men to stand down, and then said to me, “You’ll come to regret this action.”

To which I just shrugged. His men complied, reluctantly, and around an hour later Theo, his men, his prisoner and the unwelcome mercenaries were on their way. Away from my new lands.

Vernon sidled up to me. “Milord, it might not have been the best decision.”

“It’s definitely better than allowing a backstabbing pigfucker to stay,” I spat. “Well, I’ve been ordered to let you stay, so I guess I will have to allow one to stay. But you don’t command a bunch of soldiers.”

He turned red with anger. I looked at his clenched hand, and said with a smile, “Go ahead, what’s the penalty for striking your lord? Death?”

Fumingly, he turned around and stormed away. I called after him, “I didn’t allow you to leave. Now stay, like a good little dog, until I tell you otherwise, while we survey the fruits of your incompetence.”

He swallowed a scream of frustration but stayed. I turned to Hugo. “Hugo, would you mind coming with us, observing and noting down the survey?”

“That’s not part of his job,” Vernon said with a frown.

Hugo shook his head. “Since my job is to take down and verify testimony, as well as making sure that the King gets the correct amount of taxes, this would fall within the purview of my job. We’re making sure that the law is upheld and the taxes paid.”

“Splendid, we’ll find a horse for you,” I said.

“No need Milord, the church has one, I will go and fetch it,” Hugo said and then gave a slight bow.

As the man walked away, I ordered the soldiers to go and prepare the burial fires for Marv and Virgyl. Kiril was ordered to go to the hall together with the rest of the serfs to rest, while Caspar stayed with me. I did not think I would need more than one man to babysit Vernon. I asked Lily to accompany me around the hold, to which she agreed.

It was almost twenty minutes before Hugo came riding back, on a horse that looked as old as he did. His saddle had modified to allow him a small writing surface in front of him. When he joined us, I said, “Let’s start the tour here. The camp took up a lot of flat ground, what was grown here before?”

“Wheat, Milord,” Hugo answered. “This area was amongst the best producing of the fields that you have.”

“Why the fuck did you not place the camp in the hills?” I asked Vernon.

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he harrumphed.

“Note down that the Steward was uncooperative,” I said, to which the Recorder nodded and scribbled something down.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Vernon squawked.

“Taking down a record of all your mismanagement of the estate. Your father might be out of my reach, but you aren’t,” I snarled. “Let’s move on. Lily, if you please.”

While my new hold was large, very little of it was utilized. The fields grew wheat and other grain, barely enough to support the hold itself after the church had gotten their tithe, the High Lord his roughly eight percent and the King had received around fifteen percent.

It had not helped that the acreage available for growing had decreased because of the camp. While the tents did not take up too much room, they had taken a large portion of flat acreage for growing grass to feed their horses. Training ground and so on. In total, they had used a bit over five percent of the total area used for growing crops.

There was a flock of sheep and goats, less than fifty heads each, definitely not enough to sustain a population of two hundred plus. Nor would it help when Hrothgar returned with even more serfs. Not even with the help of the small brood of chickens and the dozen or so pigs. The only other animals the hold had left, which had not been sold, was the horse Vernon rode on and two dozen oxen who were used to transport the goods to the marketplace at the High Hold.

The vegetable area was a sore sight as well. Lily, with the help of the Recorder, confirmed that the productivity of the gardens had fallen since the Steward had gotten rid of all the beehives and the apiarists.

We did not ride out there, but from a distance, I could see all the apples and pear trees spread out in the foothills. When asked if they were harvested, the reply was that the serfs gathered for use on the hold only, since the High Lord had passed into law that only apples and pears from his groves were allowed to be sold.

The windmill was in working order, and actually the best maintained building in the entire hold. The miller, whose name would be unpronounceable so he just became Miller to me, was an old freeman, who had a lovely daughter and a nice enough son-in-law. Miller maintained the mill himself, had even built it himself.

As stated, the rest of the buildings, even the hall, were not in the best of conditions. Most people lived in small huts, barely big enough for four. Yet the serfs slept ten or more to the hut. The homes of the other freemen were a little bigger and better, though there were only a handful of those, including Miller’s.

One thing I noted when I started meeting all the serfs. They were mostly men or old women. I do not think I saw one woman under forty. When I inquired, Vernon refused to answer. Lily, which again was confirmed by the Recorder, said that the Steward had sold off all the younger women.

Linus had warned me that the Steward had purposely racked up the debt, to keep other suitors away. And I now saw clear evidence. Linus and Hugo had to several times remind me that I could not kill the fucker, he would have to stand trial. It was a matter of high justice. It would be a matter of bringing it before the Justicar or the High Lord. Since I had little trust in the unbiased nature of the good Justicar, I would have to bring it to the High Lord.

Not that I had a high opinion of him either, but Linus informed me that in less than a moon, I would be required to attend their monthly circle jerk at the High Hold. Better known as the Gatherings of Hold, where all the Lords met and discussed matters of the entire High Hold. It was a monthly thing, and unless I was campaigning or otherwise engaged in warfare with their enemy, I was required to attend.

As we were entering the hall, I stopped Vernon. “You’re not coming in here.”

“What? My room is in there!” he whined.

“Caspar, go with Vernon, find a shovel. Then he can dig a hole in the ground. It’ll be his holding cell,” I said.

“Milord, you cannot do that!” Linus complained.

“You told me I’m not allowed to throw him in the stocks or tie him to the whipping post. Against the law. I asked if it was forbidden to confine him in a room, you said that was allowed. I’m just having him dig his new room first,” I said.

Vernon started protesting, but I just ordered Caspar to find some other men to help him guard the prisoner. Two of the other soldiers moved to help Caspar drag the man away from the hall.

The sun had set an hour or so ago, so I was getting hungry since I had not eaten since morning. However, I had seen the hall from the outside plenty of times. It was like noted earlier, something that reminded me of a Viking longhouse. It had to be ten meters tall or so, and the doors were made to accommodate someone bigger than me easily, and I would guess the length to be at least fifty meters, and the width close to thirty-five. It appeared to be solid craftsmanship, but unadorned and in need of some maintenance.

Stepping into the hall, it reminded me again of something out of a documentary on Vikings. The hall was long, longer than it looked from the outside. Almost twenty percent longer than I had expected, and there were doors in the other end of the hall leading even farther in. It occurred to me that it was most likely built into the hill.

The ceiling was high and arched, but only ran about half the length of the hall. It transformed into a balcony which overlooked the rest of the hall. The walls and columns were unadorned though, making the splendour of the hall diminish. Maybe something that I could get someone to do something about, pretty up the place a bit. Even though it was not a stone castle or fine mansion, it was still impressive craftsmanship.

More than half of the length of the hall was taken by a long firepit, though only the far end of it was lit. Not one buried into the ground, but a raised one lined with stones. I immediately thought how easy it would be to barbecue all the pigs at the same time, and still have room for a dozen sheep as well. Two rows of long tables lined both sides of the firepit, benches on both sides of the table. At the end of the firepit, there was the high table.

There was a ten metres wide divide between the high table and the firepit, leaving an eighty square metre area. I was pondering what it would be used for. Maybe entertainment or retrieval of guests. A dance floor was another possibility. Beyond the high table, there were doors leading away.

The whole hall could easily seat four hundred people, and that was without packing them like sardines in a can. Along the walls, I spotted lots of small alcoves and realized they were meant for sleeping. Yet no one was sleeping there, nor were there any signs that it was being used to that.

I saw Lily looking at me questioningly as I had been standing there taking the whole scene in for more than a minute. I gave her a smile. “Impressive.”

“It’s nothing compared to the old hall, or so my grandmother told me before she passed away,” she said with a small smile. While I could still feel that she was wary of me, the whole trip had made her open up a little. Probably helped that I told Vernon to shut up or lose his tongue temporarily, whenever he got abrasive and tried to call my wife a liar. It was clear that she disliked the man.

“Milord, Milady,” an elderly woman in her fifties said, with a small curtsy. “Dinner is ready, the other freemen and your soldiers have already eaten. The Justicar awaits you.”

“This is Sigrid, she’s in charge of the kitchen. She’s amazing,” Lily said with real fondness in the voice.

“Milady is too kind,” the serf said with a pleasant smile. Looking around I saw that Kiril, Saori, Mary, Nina and Alianna sitting at one of the long tables near the high table. A couple of the soldiers were sitting nearby, playing dice or something like that.

At the high table, immediately to the right of the centre chair, I spotted the figure of Latimer, the Justicar who rubbed me all kinds of wrong. Also, I suspected he was corrupt and in on whatever scam Vernon and Barry had been pulling since he had rejected the case without hearing any evidence.

According to Linus and Hugo that was a problem for me. Since he had done so with prejudice, it was standing, and I could not accuse Barry or anyone else for fraud in relation to the hiring of the Golden Northmen.

“About time, I grow hungry,” Larimer grouched, as we approached the high table.

“Then go grab an apple and get the fuck out of that chair,” I replied.

“Excuse me?” he sputtered.

“You’ve not earned a seat at the high table,” I said. Linus coughed lightly. I had gotten some information, well a lot of information, with regards to expectation, rules and privileges afforded to the clergy. “Unfortunately, rules and customs dictate that you get one. So move your ass as far away from my seat as possible.”

“This is highly—”

“Inappropriate, offensive, insulting, or all of the above?” I asked with crossed arms. “That’s how I find your whole handling of the situation earlier. So it gives me great pleasure to inform you that I declare Impugnment. After you’ve eaten breakfast tomorrow you’ll be given enough food to reach the nearest church.”

At first, he looked like I had just killed his puppy. Then he flew into a rage. “You can’t do that! You’ll face harsh censors, they might even put you to death.”

“I highly doubt that they’ll find your ruling has merit,” I said. Then I turned to the two soldiers playing dice. “The two of you’ll be responsible for standing guard at the Recorder’s office tonight.”

“You insinuate that I would destroy holy property?” the Justicar gasped.

“I don’t know, I’m just taking precautions because clearly you’re corrupt. Luckily you can’t pass sentences from now on, you’re forever barred from this Hold and your words are without authority,” I said.

The Justicar stormed out of the hall, with one last parting shot, “Gyzbohr will Judge you unworthy of an afterlife!”

The soldiers had to scramble to get to the church, which was not really a church since sermons were held outside, but a large building that contained the two clergymen’s private rooms and offices.

“Thank you for the suggestion, Lily,” I said with a smile. When I had asked my advisor and the Recorder for how to deal with the seemingly corrupt Justicar, they had advised me to smile and bear with it. Lily had been the one suggesting the Impugnment. It was a risky move, but I was pretty sure it would hold up.

He had to go before the Cardinal and report it, who would then have to call in some clerics of Ghidana who would read the truth. They would also send a delegation here, to ascertain the truth. If they found that his ruling was made in good faith, I would be punished. If they found that it was corrupt, the ruling would stand, but I would not be punished. In either case, the Hold would be getting a new Justicar.

The chair meant for the Lord of the Hold was not just a chair, it was a fucking throne. Double the size of any of the other chairs, and the only one ornately decorated, it did not look like it could be moved. Turned out that the builder had made a sliding mechanism with grooves in the floor, enabling it to be pushed back, enough that one could get into the seat without crawling over the table.

Lily said when I was looking it over, “When receiving, the high table is normally removed.”

“Makes sense, now let’s eat. I’m freaking starving,” I said. It was still heavy, but the mechanism made it possible to move the chair without straining.

Sigrid and a bunch of other women carried out a veritable feast. A whole pig had been prepared, a smaller one, but still. When I saw that it was only for the high table, which consisted of me, Lily, Hugo and Linus I enquired what would happen with the leftovers. It would be fed to the pigs as slop. I became mad when I saw that Hope and Caspar were fed an unappetizing looking gruel.

“Why do we serve shit to them, when there’s plenty of food here?” I demanded of Sigrid.

She looked scared because of my tone, which was harsh. It was Lily who provided the answer, “It’s the way the Steward made things. We don’t have enough to feed everyone so lavishly.”

“Then feed us less lavishly,” I groaned. “I bet you could feed everyone with stew made from this pig alone.”

“Yes Milord, almost,” Sigrid finally said.

“We’ll go over the larder tomorrow, and plan out how to get it to last, but for now those who has not eaten partake in this veritable feast so it doesn’t go to waste,” I said, and then turned my attention to the succulent pig that one of the servers were starting to carve.

After we had eaten, I was shown the rest of the Hold. Behind the high table, there were three doors. The left led down to the cellar, which had an extensive collection of ale and wine. The right led into the kitchen, which was built directly into the hillside. No natural light, but plenty of air shafts for the smoke to escape.

The middle door led upstairs. The upstairs held four smaller sleeping chambers and a large one which belonged to the Lord of the Hold. Which the Steward of course had taken for himself. Until I could deal with the ostentatious furnishing, which I expected had been bought with coin from the hold, I would sleep in one of the smaller chambers. Lily, Hope and Nina each had one of the others.

The next morning found me sitting with a trembling serf on my left for breakfast. The food was far less lavish than the evening before, but everyone was eating the same as me. Linus had protested the fact that I had invited the Hold’s only serf with magic to sit at the high table.

“Why is it a problem?” I had asked. “Is it illegal?”

“No Milord, but perception,” had been the answer.

“I’ve questions need answering, and I don’t wish to shout and disturb everyone’s breakfast,” I had said. I looked out over all the people gathered. The freemen were easy to distinguish from the serfs since they were better dressed and had a look of disdain on their face. Normally the serfs ate outside.

As we were eating, the trembling serf, an older woman with dark skin and kind, but scary, red eyes. Not that she had been crying, but her irises were of natural red colour. Looked pretty awesome, to tell the truth.

“Tilly, tell me about the general health of the people living here,” I asked the Hold’s curomancer after all of them had a chance to eat a bit. Lily had informed me that Tilly was the last serf with magic that the Steward had not sold, and that she had a rating of five.

“Milord, I keep everyone here healthy,” she said with a stammer, after taking a look at Alianna who was sitting at a table nearby.

“I’m sure, the way you healed Kiril tells me that you’re good at your job. It’s not why I enquire, I simply need to know if there’s a problem with disease that we need to take care,” I said gently.

She was silent for a long moment, in which I enjoyed the stew that Sigrid had simmering overnight. It was made mostly from the leftovers from the night before, instead of wasting the food on feeding the pig, Sigrid had turned it into a well-tasting stew. Could use some kick from some spices though. Another thing to talk with my elves about.

“Milord, the well that the serfs are allowed to use is fouled, making some of them sick,” she finally said.

“But the main well is fine?” I asked. Instead of answering she just nodded.

“I see,” I said. Then loudly I addressed the hall, “There’s a problem with one of the wells, for now, everyone drinks from the main well. Saori, you’ll grab whoever you need to find out what fouls the well.”

“Yes, Milord,” she rose and curtsied. There was some grumbling from the freemen at my proclamation. I did not care.

“What about the bathing facility? I did not really see any,” I asked. Truthfully, I think I already knew the answer. Which I soon got confirmed by both Tilly and Lily: There was none. People drew water and washed up once in a while. Something else that I would need to institute.

“Tilly, I want you to come to me if you need anything. I want everyone here to be healthy, no matter if they’re serf or freeman. Alianna might be able to help you a bit, but she’s only a rating one,” I said. “Though Nathalie should be here in a couple of days or so. She’s a rating seven.”

“I shall defer to her, when she gets here, Milord,” Tilly said with a slight catch in her voice.

I was confused for a moment. “What? No, no, you misunderstand. She might have a higher rating than you, but you know this Hold. Nathalie will primarily be concerned with the health of the soldiers and the levies we’ll be training. You’ll be in charge of the Hold’s health until I say otherwise, no matter who else might be hired.”

“Milord, thank you, Milord,” she said. I waved it away.

I turned to my wife. “I forgot to ask yesterday, but I saw that despite it being the end of winter and the start of spring, the apple trees had a lot of red in them. Or some of them.”

“Yes, the apple trees growing here are a mix of different kinds. Most of them bloom during summer or fall, but there’s some that bloom during the winter as well.”

“Why haven’t they been picked?”

“Because only the High Lord can sell apples,” she said.

“I know that, but it doesn’t forbid us from gathering it and using it to feed ourselves, does it?” I asked and mostly addressed the question to Hugo who was sitting a couple of seats away.

“Milord, that’s a question for the Justicar, but I’ve copies of all the laws in my office,” the cleric said.

“Just give me an answer,” I said frustratedly.

“I can’t, but you’re welcome to read and interpret the law yourself, Milord,” he countered.

‘Damnation,’ I swore to myself. It would seem I would not get an easy answer. “Fine, I’ll be by after breakfast then. We need to go over the books anyway. Lily, in the meantime, could you arrange for some pickers.”

“Milord, it’s in the foothills,” she said cautiously. I immediately understood her statement. She was worried about the potential danger to the serfs.

“Have Kiril bring half the men to protect them.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile.

That reminded me of something else I needed to do. Loudly I said, “Kiril. You’re promoted to squad leader. See Lily after breakfast, there’s a job we need you to do.”

The soldier in question stood up and gave me a bow. “Thank you, Milord. I’ll not fail you.”

“I know you won’t,” I said with a grin. He had fought well in the forest, and there’s just something about fighting together that forges a bond between people.

After a moment, when everyone had returned their attention to the breakfast, Lily leaned in and whispered, “Why do you include me in decision making, and giving out tasks?”

Without whispering, not caring who heard, I answered, “Because in two moons I’ll be off to war. Someone needs to run this place.”

“Milord, a Steward would be doing that,” Linus said.

“He’ll be running things as my wife sees fit, or he’ll be whipped for disobedience,” I said, loudly enough for most people to hear. “I trust my wife, and when she gives an order it’s with my authority.”

That garnered a lot of murmuring between the freemen. The serfs did not say much. They were mostly quiet. Lily looked scared and Linus looked like someone had shoved something up his ass. Which meant he looked like he usually did when I flaunted their traditions.

“Milord, that’s not how things are done,” he said.

“It’s how things will be done here unless you tell me there’s a law against it.”

“But traditions—”

“Are a good thing, but not when it holds back progress needlessly. I need someone I can trust to run this place, the last Steward ran this place into the ground, and I bet I’ll find signs of embezzlement when I look over the books,” I said loudly enough for everyone to hear. Especially the next part. “Anyone who helped the Steward purposely to ruin this Hold will be held accountable.”

That stopped the murmurs between the freemen, and I noticed some nervous looks amongst them. I gave a slight smile to Lily, “I don’t care what the others think. We’ll figure out a way forward together. And when I’m not here, you’ll be in charge.”

She blushed and looked down. In a low whisper, she said a few words that made me feel good, “Thank you, Karth.”