03.12.590 AF (+5 Days)
[Walter Carnell]
The village was surrounded by a modest wooden fence, standing only four feet tall—a clear sign that bandits were not a significant threat here. With enough able-bodied men to fend off any would-be attackers, their primary concern seemed to be the wild animals lurking in the nearby forest. The fence, while simple, appeared sufficient to keep such dangers at bay.
As our wagon approached what served as the village gate, it became evident that it wasn't a gate at all—just an opening in the fence, wide enough to allow a wagon to pass through. The guards stationed there didn't seem overly cautious, letting us through without hesitation once the teamster, a native of the village, presented the royal seal. That alone was enough to silence any questions they might have had.
I looked outside the wagon as it went to the road towards the keep. The huts were arranged in a linear fashion, lining a road that ascended toward a cliff where the keep stood. Along this route, timber-framed houses flanked us at irregular intervals, suggesting a modest but organized layout.
Observing closely, I estimated there to be between thirty to forty households dispersed throughout the settlement. The presence of surrounding farmland indicated a community largely reliant on agriculture, with approximately twenty-five or so huts visible in the immediate vicinity. Considering a conservative estimate of two individuals per household, I deduced there could be around 50 farmers residing in this area.
As we ascended toward the keep, I noticed a gradual decline in the number of houses lining the road. It seemed that those closer to the keep were likely inhabited by more influential villagers, perhaps indicating their status or proximity to the ruling authority. Eventually, the houses petered out entirely, leaving us riding in relative solitude for another five minutes until we reached the keep.
Upon arrival, my heart sank at the sight before me. Despite mentally preparing myself for the likelihood of its poor condition, seeing my new home in such a state was still deeply disheartening. Nevertheless, amidst the dilapidation, there was a glimmer of hope. While certainly in need of extensive renovation, the keep was not beyond habitation. I ventured inside, exploring its rooms and envisioning how I could make it functional as the renovations progressed.
The task ahead would undoubtedly demand a substantial investment, but I was resolved that it would be a worthwhile endeavor. I have received five gold as a loan with no interest from the king's treasury, and have to repay it in the span of ten years, making fifty silvers a year to be paid. A noble's residence was not merely a place to live; it embodied one's standing in the society. Restoring the keep would not only provide me with a home but also reaffirm my identity as a nobleman, ensuring that my presence in Cardhan would be anchored in a place of dignity and history.
Following a brief exploration guided by the guard, we were left to ourselves. The teamster with his wagon left for his home, and I relieved my retinue off their duty and asked them to settle in the keep.
I began my quick inspection of the keep from the stable. Upon entering, it became immediately apparent that the stable was scarcely adequate. Its cramped quarters could accommodate no more than 7 or 8 horses, leaving minimal space for essential supplies such as feed, equipment, and grooming tools.
I sighed inwardly, realizing that improving this sorry excuse for a stable would need to be added to the list of renovations. Enhancing the stable's capacity and functionality would not only ensure proper care for our mounts but also contribute to the overall efficiency and prestige of the castle once its restoration is complete.
Next, I turned my attention to the barn near the keep. With winter in full swing, it was a critical facility for ensuring the servants remained well-fed. I sought out the barn manager to get an update on the supplies. He assured me that the current stockpile was sufficient to endure even the harshest conditions for another three months. This news brought a sense of relief, as spring would arrive by then. The little winter crops I had glimpsed on my way to the keep would likely be ready to sustain us until the next harvest.
Then fencing was rudimentary. It was mostly wooden palisades made from rough-hewn logs driven into the ground, standing unevenly around 3 to 4 feet tall. These fences would serve as a basic deterrent against wild animals or opportunistic raiders, but they wouldn't withstand a determined assault. The entrance was nothing but a gap in the fencing that could be temporarily blocked with a wooden gate or bar.
The enclosure was around 10,000 square feet big. It consisted of obviously the keep, which was two-storeyed, a stable, a barn, and a medium-sized training ground for the retainers.
I decided that the keep's renovation would begin in the spring. Until then, I would make do with its current state.
My inspection of the keep began with the great hall, a central, multi-purpose room that served as the heart of the household. It was used for dining, meetings, and gatherings. The hall featured a long wooden table flanked by benches, with a modest hearth providing warmth and doubling as a cooking space.
Next, I examined the servants' quarters, a shared dormitory designed to house 10-12 servants. The space was cramped, with straw mattresses laid out for sleeping. Adjacent to it was a small pantry, where food, firewood, tools, and other essentials were stored.
Lastly, I inspected the kitchen—a compact, functional area near the hearth. Equipped with basic cooking tools and a preparation table, it fulfilled its purpose despite its modest size.
Moving to the upper floor, I explored the storage loft, a small area designated for keeping valuables, clothing, and seasonal supplies. Nearby was the privy, a modest facility relying on a chamber pot system for sanitation.
I then entered the common room, a shared space for relaxation or informal gatherings, which also served as a workspace when needed. Adjacent to it was the courtiers' room, designed to comfortably accommodate up to five members of my retinue.
The upper floor also housed two larger rooms. One was my personal chamber, furnished with a simple wooden bed, a chest for my belongings, and a small desk—adequate and functional, meeting my needs perfectly. The other was reserved for my future family, a space I hoped would one day be filled with warmth in this life.
Sleep soon overcame me, as the long days of travel had drained my energy. The bed, though not as grand as those in the royal castle, was far more comfortable than the one I had back in the village.
The next morning, I summoned Frederick and instructed him to gather all the records of the village's management by noon and present them to me.
In the meantime, as I assessed the village's martial capabilities, I noted that the guard consisted of just six men, who also served as the keep's defenders. This arrangement needed to be restructured, as having a divided focus only diminishes efficiency. Moreover, the fact that the keep and the village gates are a good ten-minute walk apart further highlighted the need for a more organized approach.
By noon, Frederick had managed to gather most of the parchments related to the village's management. I dismissed him for the rest of the day and began reviewing the documents.
I started with the demographics. The village, small by any measure, conducted an annual census to keep track of its population. The most recent census indicated a total of 143 residents, of which 101 were adults. The male-to-female ratio was nearly even. Among the 101 adults, seventy-three were farmers, twelve were merchants, six were soldiers, two were blacksmiths, two were hunters, two were carpenters, and the remaining four worked as servants at the keep. Due to the limited range of professions in such a small village, many residents had to travel to nearby towns for services that couldn't be provided locally.
The exact area under my control is uncertain, but it's estimated to be around 65 to 70 square kilometers. However, the area itself isn't often referred to directly; instead, the focus is on yield. The success of each harvest is measured by how much crop can be produced to feed the population. Last harvest, Cardhan yielded enough to feed 150 people, barely meeting the village's needs and leaving no surplus. This is a significant problem, as despite being heavily reliant on agriculture, the village struggles to produce enough to sell, which stifles growth. Upon reviewing past reports, I found instances where the harvest was insufficient to feed everyone, further highlighting the instability in the village's food production.
As I sifted through more parchments, I pinpointed the root of the problem: the current two-field system was insufficient. Fallow fields often failed to regain proper fertility, especially without any added fertilizers. This system also meant that half of the land remained idle each year. Furthermore, planting only one type of crop in a field made the harvest vulnerable to pests and diseases. To ensure a surplus, the three-field system needed to be introduced.
There were other issues, such as the use of wooden plows and hoes for tilling, the reliance on manual labor for most farming tasks, and dependence on natural rainfall or rudimentary irrigation methods. However, the crop rotation system was something that could be addressed more immediately. Since I couldn't implement this change until the start of spring, I decided to hold off on it for now.
Turning to the village's infrastructure, there are forty-three houses in total. For communal buildings, the village has two granaries—one located in the barn at the keep, and the other situated near the village center. A well provides the primary water supply for the village, while the river, located about four kilometers (2.5 miles) away, offers an additional resource. There are no chapels in the village, which is not unusual, as the church only constructs such buildings if there is a significant enough population.
As I reviewed the economic section, it became clear that the village lacked substantial exports. The most the village managed to trade was a few silver's worth of timber harvested from the nearby forest each year. This was an area that clearly needed attention.
Regarding taxation, there were several forms in place. The Land Tax was the most significant, set at ten percent of the land value, which was determined by the master. Currently, the land value was estimated at around 80 to 90 coppers per acre. This tax contributed to 40-50% of the total revenue, making it the largest source of income. The second-largest tax revenue came from the toll tax, accounting for 25-30%. Cardhan's location along the road to the capital made it an ideal spot for this tax. The tolls were set at 5 coppers for foot travelers, 10 coppers for mounted travelers, and 25 coppers for wagons. These rates were deemed reasonable, so they faced little resistance.
The least popular form of tax was the Poll Tax. This was a fixed amount levied on individuals, regardless of their property or land value, and applied to everyone over the age of sixteen. The tax was set at 20 coppers per person per year, but it was heavily criticized, particularly by the lower classes. Peasants, who often had little or no disposable income, found it particularly unfair. The Poll Tax did not take into account a person's ability to pay, and in times of famine, poor harvests, or economic struggle, it could cause great hardship among the rural poor.
There was much to be done, but there was no rush. With ten years still remaining before the second continental rebellion would begin, there was time to plan and execute changes carefully.