Honestly, it was worse than Lucas had expected. It is easily to know, academically, what life was like in the ages of knights and castles, and compared to his volunteer time he thought he was prepared. Half an hour into the third farm Lucas realized just how far society had come as he was examining a hand scythe that would commonly be used for harvesting wheat.

The edge was dull, the pig iron blade was rusted and pitted and it was not even well secured to the handle, which itself was little more than a rough wooden rod. After Lucas set it down again, the first thing he had to do was pull the splinters it left out of his hand. As he did so, he checked over the plow set off to the side and sighed. It’s condition was much the same, and for that matter it was a wheeled plough. A device famous in the history of agriculture for just how incredibly useless it was. Just as the Dutch had imported the swing plough, a far more efficient version of the plough that greatly reduced the amount of labor required to use it, from China, he would have to do the same here.

“I dun’n why yah ‘re so interested in my pigs,” A farmer at another farm had scratched his head in confusion as Lucas examined the conditions of both livestock and their enclosures. Idly, Lucas wondered how the earing worked to translate the farmers rather atrocious diction, but he let it slide.

“Because you don’t seem very familiar with the concept of selective breeding,” Lucas said offhandedly, fairly certain the man wouldn’t fully get it without a lengthy explanation. “Considering horses exist in this world, I would have thought that concept would exist as well. But I suppose it probably isn’t taught to everyone…”

A slave brought a tray with cups of water for Lucas and the farmer, Almistraus having declined to step into the manure that filled this barn. This farmer had quite a bit more land, and had turned to slaves to fit the demands for labor. Despite his unfortunate manor of speaking, he was a rather wealthy and successful farmer.

Lucas himself was unsure what to think about the practice. Obviously, slavery was wrong by modern standards, but reality is that if he freed every slave right now, nothing about their situation would change. They would flee their harsh conditions, but those conditions were products of the era more than products of the practice. He supposed he would have to support emancipation while improving farm capacity, but then he would have the same problem as the cotton gin…

Another slave with a pitchfork had come in as well, and the farmer frowned for a moment.

“Oi,” He shouted, his voice tinged with cruelty. “I was ‘ere thinkin’ that I had sent yah to the field.”

The farmer took a step forward, and Lucas put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. He had enough moral problems with the system he had found without having to deal with a slave being beaten in front of him!

“Deal with it later,” Lucas said, slightly distracted by the thought this might just worsen the slaves treatment, but he would have to deal with that later. He was not good with people to start with, so convincing people to give up that whole system was far beyond his leauge. “I still need to take a look at your fields. You use the three field rotation method, with one lying fallow, correct?”

The farmer turned to reply and then jerked and coughed up blood, the slave had stabbed him with the pitchfork! The other slave who had brought the water grabbed for Lucas, but Lucas jumped back out of his reach.

“What the hell?” Had he arrived just in time for a slave uprising? He didn’t particularly mind, or rather, he wouldn’t if he wasn’t front and center in it!

“You scum.” The slave with the pitchfork spat, yanking the pitchfork out of his former master and leaving him to drown in his own blood. “This world does not belong to you, but to the High Ones! Your unclean steps tarnish the very earth you walk on!”

That manner of speaking was far clearer than his former master’s, and the subject matter was odd as well. Lucas would leave that for another time however, as right now he had to simply survive. Lucas did not particular care about manly pride with his life on the line, so the first thing he did was scream for help, hoping the guards would hear him.

The unarmed slave made to tackle him again, and the one with the pitchfork got ready to thrust at Lucas this time. Obviously, the plan was for one to grab him and the other to stab him, a rather decent tactic. Unfortunately, Lucas was an adult from a modern society. While he could in no way compete with a knight, who was trained to fight and had the wealth to eat well, malnourished slaves who barely ever had protein in their diets simply lacked his level of health. Even without exercise, that difference made itself known.

Lucas grabbed the first slave and swung him around to be stabbed by the slaves own ally, then knocked his feet out from under him so that the weight of the body would pull the pitchfork down. Lucas then stepped forward seeking to end the fight quickly and was greeted with a punch to the face, and he stumbled back tasting blood.

The ‘slave’ pulled out a dagger, something a slave would never have, and made to stab Lucas. The momentum dropped Lucas to the floor as he struggle to keep the dagger from his throat, the the man was strong, as strong as Lucas and clearly nearly insane with passion and rage.

Lucas saw a flash, and the pressure disappeared, along with the slaves head as a guard severed his neck. Lucas got up, taking some deep breaths to calm himself. The farmer was dead, and the other slave was dying in the same way. Lucas could not save him, and frankly, would not have cared to anyway. Slave or not, Lucas had no mercy for someone who would commit murder.

“Are you alright, my Lord?” The guard was anxious, Lucas had been lost in his own thoughts and had not replied at first.

“Physically, yes. Mentally… Well I am unsure how to react to being called unclean and then having people try to kill me.”

“Well, considering what you are covered in…” Lady Almistraus was surrounded by guards as well, all with weapons out. But she sounded relieved more than anything.

“Very funny,” She was right though, a biologist might be used to dealing with the various products of life, but that did not mean he had wanted to have his back covered in shit. “What happened to Volen?”

“He is hiding back at the carriage,” Lady Almistraus said. “I decided to come with the guards to make sure you were safe.”

“Ah, well… Thank you for that.” Lucas said a bit awkwardly, considering his behavior it rather surprised him that she would care that much.

Before they left, Lucas had the guards ransack the place for some clothes he could wear and changed. Though he had to admit to himself, seeing Volen’s face as he dealt with the smell would have been funny.

Regardless, it was clear that this whole thing was going to become even more complicated, as if being pulled into another world was not enough of a problem.

“If it can go wrong, it will.” Lucas muttered to himself, “Fuck you Murphy...”