Reincarnated As A Peasant

Chapter 15: Nobility And Wolves

Landar

Over the next few days in the morning, I would enrich the oil with mana, then work the forge helping the smith with whatever project he had that day. A few times he didnt have a project, so I went off in search of Oswald and helped him with the accounts.

According to him, the guard houses paperwork had never been so well done, or quick before. Oswald kept teaching me more advanced versions of mathematical notation as well, at least until he had reached the limits of his knowledge. Then we began work on me learning about the laws and rules surrounding the class system of the kingdom.

It was rather simple. Peasants were put into three classes.

Slaves, which were at the bottom but depending upon the city, still had some rights and protections. Slavery was a punishment, typically for pretty serious crimes. Families could be put into slavery together, but only if it could be proven that the adults all knew about the crime being committed.

But it wasnt just criminal, but also a financial and civil punishment as well. If someone, anyone according to Oswald as nobility and even some low-class royalty were not immune, had to go bankrupt, they and their immediate family would enter into a term of service of up to ten years as a slave. What type of work they did, and how long the slavery lasted, was based on how much debt was owed and their previous station to be determined by a Judge, or the ArchDuke of the region.

According to Oswald, even thieves and underground organizations respected bankruptcy, as most people in such organizations had been through it at one point in their lives or another. On top of that, the punishment for harming a slave outside of the confines of the contract were usually pretty severe. It wasnt chattel slavery, but still, the concept graded on me.

Just above slaves were drudges. Drudges were those who werent slaves, but often worked menial low-skill high-labor jobs like cleaning, hauling, or digging ditches.

Drudges worked directly for the city or town they lived in on projects that took lots of people. Which meant they occupied a strange place politically. Not even the ArchDuke could abuse a drudge or interfere with the drudges work without proper approval.

According to Oswald, the city council would have a conniption, and probably have to call out the militia to keep order. There are more drudges than any other single group of people in the whole city. And when their city council representative declares a work stoppage for maltreatment, sewer water floods the lower city, and garbage piles up in the noble quarters.

No ones happy.

Exactly.

After the drudges came the Freemen.

Freemen, like my father, did all the common yet skilled jobs. Farming, guarding, gathering, cutting and hauling wood, and the like. Anything that took brawn, will, and at least half a brain to do, the freemen did.This chapter is updat𝓮d by nov(e)(l)biin.com

Above the peasantry was the Craftsmen class. Much like freemen, but who typically have been able to purchase or earn a few additional privileges like a license to own a forge, bakery, or butcher shop.

At the bottom were people like the smith and his family. They were barely more wealthy or privileged than my family was. At the top were multi-city trading families who launched caravans of trade between nations, and between the various cities of our homeland.

There were a lot of different types of craftsmen, and among that class, class wasnt important, or so said the common knowledge from Oswald. Though those at the very top were in some ways more powerful even than high nobility and could buy entire armies with the contents of their treasuries.

Above the craftsmen class was the Nobility. Nobility was born into service to the nation, and the city they were born in. More specifically, they gave fealty to the ArchDuke of the region they lived in.

Nobility ranged from low-ranking nobles, like Gentry, Knights, and Lords, who protected towns and farmers. To mid-rank Barons and Counts who oversaw small holdings and military readiness, to high ranking Viscounts, and Earls who supervised lower nobility and typically served in educational and leadership roles within the nobility itself. As an example, the principle of the Duchys academy was an Earl, and the right hand of the ArchDuke.

Royalty was seen as the pinnacle of nobility.

Dukes ruled vast swaths of land, with towns and smaller cities at their heart. They were typically extended family members of the Arch Dukes who ruled the four regional capitals. The ArchDukes usually had some distant connection to royalty, though that wasnt a hard and fast rule.

The Kings Line was considered all powerful, though they rarely got involved in political squabbles between nobility. Only occasionally would they step in when interregional disagreements or inter-institutional problems, like issues between the various priesthoods, arose. Though thankfully, the kingdom had seen a long stretch of peace that would hopefully continue to last.

Oswald started talking to me about the history of the kingdom when a loud horn blasted from outside the guardhouse. Shouting and panicked voices muffled by the stone walls filled the air.

Stay here, Oswald demanded as he got up and left the shared office.

I waited until the door had closed to follow. When I got outside, a set of three strange, overly large wagons were crammed in the entrance into the city.

Dozens of small, heavily muscled, heavily bearded men ran around tying things down, or hauling injured members of their party off the wagons. The injured were dragged towards where two gray priests and a cleric frantically worked to save the lives and limbs of the injured.

My father stood in the midst of the chaos, Oswald at his side as he issued orders.

Whose in charge of this caravan! my fathers voice, filled with authority mixed with a smidge of threat behind it that I immediately recognized, carried over the group of what I assumed were dwarves.

A white bearded female dwarf, who was slightly taller than most of the men, with distinct feminine curves that had hunched over slightly with age, walked meaningfully towards Tomas. Her beard was braided in a circular loop and had beads and other trinkets placed purposefully to accentuate the delicate, white hair on her head.

It looked more like a necklace, crown, and headdress than it did a beard. Her head was covered with a weave of her own hair in the shape of a circlet with metal and jewels all throughout it. It made her look regal.

Two other women, both as brawny as the men in the group, but with similar, if much smaller and reasonable displays of bearded femininity, walked beside her. Massive axes in hand, ready to defend the woman who was clearly their boss.

My name is Elder Tebick of the Woolburner clan. I lead this caravan of merchants and miscreants.

My father bowed slightly before sinking to his knees so he could speak to her on her own level. Oswald and one other man I hadnt met yet joined him.

Thank you for gracing our city with your presence, elder. What waylaid you on the road? How are your people injured? Oswald asked. He was the second in command of the gatehouse I had learned, and much better at diplomacy than my father. The fact I suspected him of being from low nobility was only reinforced by the fact he seemed to know just how to deal with the situation.

This is my familys personal caravan. Small, and ill-equipped to handle violence, let alone beasts on a road we thought friendly and pacified. Her eyes were like daggers as she glared at my father. His face was red, but I couldnt tell if it was from embarrassment or rage. Perhaps a mix of both.

Was it wolves? My father asked. The elder glared at him for nearly a full minute before finally nodding.

Yes. Wolves. A pack of them, led by two beasts. One who bit through my grandsons armor like it was parchment. The other carried a cold air about it, cold enough to freeze the fire in our lanterns late at night as we made for your city.

My father took to his feat. This pack has been a nuisance for some time, but this is the first Ive heard of them attacking an official caravan. Have no fear, elder, we will bring justice to this.

The elder considered my father for a moment before speaking again. My grandson was dragged off into the night, still alive. We found pieces of his armor broken on the ground where he had stood with our guards. Please, if he is alive, retrieve him.

Tomas looked torn as he considered. I can not promise an outcome, but I will do what I can. She took my father in for a moment, then nodded and walked off. The two powerfully built female dwarves and their axes, each roughly the same size as me, were close behind. Oswald.

Knights, on it. Private Radal is bringing me the scroll of sending. Do you want anyone from the garrison to go with you?

My father thought about the question for a moment before shaking his head. Not with the hunting party. But bring the garrison to full alert, and have two patrols safeguard the road.

Oswald was handed a scroll by someone else in a uniform, and I saw my opportunity as he focused on it, as my father waited patiently.

Father? He stared down at me, and looked startled when he recognized me as if he had forgotten I was there. Can I go with you on this hunt? Id love to see knights in action.

His grim expression arched slightly at the edges of his mouth, but he shook his head. No son. Its far too dangerous.

Then can I go with one of the patrols? Please father, I want to learn more about what its like out there. Before I start going with the other kids.

For a moment, I thought he would crack. But then he shook his head. I wont burden a sergeant with you. Im sorry, son. Perhaps we can have you go out on a night patrol when there arent deadly man eating wolves running around. Your mother might kill me even for that. But it would be far too dangerous tonight. I tried to argue my point, but he ruffled my hair and stopped me from speaking. No son. You would be little help, and a distraction for the guards. Youd keep them from doing their jobs.

My shoulders sank. I knew what he said was true. When I was a soldier back on Earth, I would never have let my kid go out on patrol. Even if it were a perfectly safe neighborhood. At best Id be in danger, at worst Id get someone killed.

I understand. He ruffled my hair again and he and Oswald walked off, leaving me alone with the dwarves as they unloaded cargo and tended to their wounded. I tried several times to catch a few of them in some form of conversation. They were about my height, though much more heavily muscled. But they were all far too busy.

After nearly an hour standing there, waiting for something to change or someone to talk to, five tall, broad shouldered but slender and lean men marched down the central street towards the gatehouse.

I could see them marching all the way from the temple district, from where I sat on one of the smaller out of the way loading docks. The crowd of dense peasants, merchants and even a work gang of drudges parted as they passed. Their armor gleamed at the slightest hint of the suns rays, and it looked like it hadnt been used once in a proper fight.

Then again, what did I know? This was a fantasy world, after all. Magic could have been keeping their armor clean. Heck, the metal itself could somehow be enchanted to self repair. For all I knew, each one of those fancy pretty boys, with their long hair, pristine armor, and practically neon glowing signs painted on their breastplates, was a hardened Rambo style veteran. Still, I couldnt help thinking of the old saying my grandpa taught me about such men.

They were all hat, and no cattle.

They dressed the part, but when it came to actually dealing with a problem, they were about as useful as a blind man judging a painting contest.

When they got to the gatehouse, I stayed where I was. I had a good vantage point. My father greeted them by going to one knee. Oswald and the other leaders did likewise. Not out of earnestness, as he had done with the dwarven elder, but out of obligation. These were our social betters after all. It rankled, but I bit down on my red-blooded American response, which was to shoot people who expected us to bow. I wouldnt get far with that attitude.

Not yet, at least.

I understand we have some monsters to hunt? The leader of the knights asked. His hair was cropped short, unlike the other younger men he led. And despite being impeccably groomed and well dressed, the faint hint of actual healed over scars crossed his face in places, giving him at least a hint of someone who had been in the shit before.

Yes my Lord, my fathers gruff voice was loud enough to be heard but clearly held a tone of respect for the man in front of him.

Please, rise. Youll be joining us on this hunt Captain, we cant allow rank to get in the way of a successful mission. My father stood, and his men followed suit. What do we know?

My father gave him the rundown of the pack size, and that two of the creatures were suspected of having evolved cores. One of ice or frost, and another of armor penetration or something along those lines.

You were right to call us then. Even a young low-level monster can have a hide thats difficult to pierce for a level zero. Even one as experienced and strong as you are, Captain. My father bowed his head, grateful for the compliment and thankful for the help.

Level zeros? Does that mean levels exist in this world? Ill have to do some more reading, I thought as the five knights and my father started talking in quieter tones. It only took about fifteen minutes before they were headed out towards the road. The sun was close to setting by then. I waved at my father as they went by, and he nodded in my direction. A few seconds later, Oswald appeared at my shoulder.

Come on, Landar. Ill get you home. Your father wont be back until late after sundown. I sighed as he led me away.

***

The next morning, I woke up and my father had still not gotten home. It wasnt the first time he had slept at the barracks, but it made all of us a bit more on edge than usual.

After our morning routine, Oswald showed up and told us that Tomas was okay, but had not gotten back to the city until early that morning and had slept at the barracks. He then escorted me to the smiths where I enriched the oil, and then off to the side exit of the gatehouse.

Your father wanted to be here for this, but last night took a lot out of him. Oswald explained. The skinny man had bags under his own eyes and had clearly not gotten a lot of sleep himself. A bunch of other kids, roughly my same size and age, were gathered together in little groups of three or four. Some of them were older, but I looked to be near the bottom in terms of age.

You have your ax? I did, and I pulled it from its loop to show it to him. I had taken a stick from the fine hardwood trees inside the temple grounds. The redheaded cleric who was usually assigned to watch me hadnt been amused when he caught me trying to sneak out.

All you had to do was ask kid, he had rolled his eyes as he walked with me around the grounds until I found what I had needed. I had set the handle that morning, finishing the project just in time.

The wood had been the perfect choice as it seemed to enhance the oils dual properties on the ax blade. Hardening it, while allowing the grinding stone to sharpen it faster and to a finer point when a fresh coat was applied. The wood seemed to hum slightly as my fingers touched the handle the smith had made from it.

Good. Youll need this, Oswald handed me what looked like a cloth blanket with two sticks on either end. You put the wood, or other resources you gather, in here. He put one hand in the middle of the blanket. And then tie the two sticks to your shoulder with this string.

It made a bag that reminded me of the painting folio bags my daughter used for her art in highschool. My heart ached slightly at the memory of her, of never being able to see her again. But I didnt let it drown me. I took the bag gratefully.

Youll also need this. He reached into his uniforms breast pocket and produced what looked like a whistle. If something happens, you get lost or injured, or something threatens you? Blow the whistle and someone in the guard will come running. We have patrols in either direction of the spot youre going to be in, and a patrol already cleared the area out of anything even remotely dangerous this morning. The section of the forest you kids will harvest in is safer than some neighborhoods in the city. You should be alright.

I took it and bowed slightly. Thank you. Do you have a map I can look at? He smirked and pulled out a small piece of parchment.

How did I know you would ask that? He handed me the parchment, and I unfolded it and read it. It showed the citys southern gate, and two roads lead out of it. The roads circled around a central wood and then veered off in different directions. One headed west, and the other headed south.

So Ill be going here? I asked, pointing to the central wood.

Yes, and youll want to stay where you can see the walls. At least for the first few excursions while you learn the dangers out there.

I nodded. I take it the dwarves came from this road? I pointed towards the road to the west, out towards the wild lands. Oswald glared at me, suspicion in his eyes. Just so I know where to avoid.

Youre to stay as far away from that area as possible. The patrols only go out a few miles that direction and youre too young and too inexperienced for the dangers over there. Do you understand me?

I nodded, Yes sir. I do. Ill be sure to stick close to the walls. You have my word.

***

The first thing I did once I got out of sight of the walls and the ever watchful Oswald, was veer as sharply west as I could. I cut through the woods, leaving the groups of other children behind. I had been a soldier, had been partially raised in the woods, and knew how to track and stay out of danger.

I kept my steps quiet, using an old hunters trick, rolling my steps on stones rather than stomping or walking like normal. Doing that would have created a noise that creatures all around would have heard. Back on Earth it would have meant deer and other prey would have gone to ground or ran. Here, though, there were predators whose attention I didnt want.

I found a patch of mud, and covered my neck and face, then my arm pits, masking my scent as much as I could. It wasnt perfect. Id have much preferred the anti-scent spray my father had bought me for hunting deer, but this was a method my grandfather taught me for when that didnt work. Or I ran out.

Teenage boys stink. It usually ran out fast.

I was not looking forward to going through that portion of puberty again. Particularly in a world with little access to deodorant.

The trees were densely packed, and as I went, I picked up a few pieces of wood I thought might be useful, or that looked like they might have been from different types of trees. Id ask my father about them later and ask which type would provide the best possible price.

I was much less interested in how much wood I was gathering, and much more interested in getting many types. I also tried to keep the pile roughly chronological in the bag. The bottom were the ones I picked up first, and the top were the last few I had grabbed. That was the logic anyway. But as I walked, the bag jostled, and the sticks tended to mix.

I took things slowly, as I didnt want to exhaust myself. My new body might be stronger now, thanks to my hard work in the smithy. But I still wasnt an athlete by any means. So I paced myself, took things slow, and more than once had to stop and rest a bit when I felt myself starting to breathe hard.

Eventually, I came to a road that was well worn and made of dirt. It had deep grooves where wagon wheels had bit into the mud over years of hard travel, and the road itself was wide where large groups of people had regularly walked.

I started walking along the road, looking for tracks or traces of a fight. Around noon I came across a place that I thought fit what I was looking for. Wagons had been circled in a ragged defensive line, bits of metal broken armor were scattered around, and I found several pairs of massive wolf's prints. If those wolves had been fed a steady diet of pure prime protein and steroids since they were puppies.

The largest of the prints were the size of my head, and a few of them were still partially frozen over with ice.

Yeah, this is definitely where the attack happened. I thought as I looked for signs showing the passing of my father and the knights he had followed into danger. Eventually I found a set of six-foot prints that didnt seem to fit with the flow of the others. They were also somewhat larger than the others, and once I recognized that, I was able to follow them without much issue.

Okay, they went off this way. I thought as I followed the prints south west from the road. I wasnt too worried about being in danger. The wolves had more than likely kept other predators like bears, or whatever else lived in this area, away from their territory. The only thing I was likely to encounter at this point were scavengers bold enough to investigate the smell of blood.

I imagined skittish coyotes and carrion birds. Now, give it a few days, and Ill be in trouble. Other predators would move in, hoping to snag the prime real estate the pack had kept for themselves. Perhaps carving it up between several dangerous creatures that were smart enough not to attack caravans or get close to people.

Unless those people invaded their dens, I thought as I fought to keep my heart from racing. There was, of course, always the possibility that the knights, and my father, missed some of the pack.

But Id catch signs of them before I got there, I told myself. A sound, or a smell, that would tip me off. I was sure of it.

My hand still rested on my ax every time I heard a twig snap or a bird caw. This was dangerous, no matter what I told myself. But if there was even a chance at a core, or useful materials that I could harvest that would help me accomplish my goal of protecting my sister, itd be worth it.

I had to get stronger and had to gain more influence. To where it they considered it more costly for bastards like the Blue Priesthood to hassle me and mine, then to leave us alone. More costly than any prize they might consider my sister or me to be.

That meant magic. And in this world it seemed, real magic, genuine power, meant the need for beast cores.

I came to a clearing, and the smell of death and decay hit me like a physical force. Bits of wolf bone, meat, and carrion covered nearly everything. Blood soaked into the soil, and wolf bodies, what was left of them, had been stacked and burned carelessly. The pyre hadnt exactly worked either it had gone out before it had turned the remains to ash. Or really, even charred most of them.

The pyre was at the center of the clearing. At the far end was a cave with a small stream of fresh water that ran down and then off into the woods towards where I thought the road might be.

I circumvented the pyre. Id check there only as a last resort. The bodies there seemed like oversized wolves, but nothing too crazy. Nothing like the creature that would be required to make the tracks I had seen at the ambush site.

As I got to the cave entrance, I found a massive beast that had been literally cut in half. The cut was clean, and the two halves of the creature were each the size of a normal wolf back home on Earth. I looked at the beasts teeth, and they were sharp and coated in some kind of metal.

My eyes went wide as I pulled out my hatchet. I tried to lever the teeth free from the two halves of its skull, but they wouldnt budge. I had to resort to carving through its gums. Eventually I realized that the teeth werent normal teeth, but instead actually part of the wolves jaw bone and yes, they were, in fact, coated in metal.

Sighing, as I was growing tired, I built a small fire pit and started a fire using some of the tinder I had gathered along the way here. Once it was roaring about thirty minutes later, I took a short break, and then cut the head off the wolfs corpse. Both halves.

I threw it into the fire.

The bones would harden and get cleaned from the treatment. Something odd like that had to be worth something, I guessed. Though I wasnt sure if all my effort would be worth the horrid smell of burning dog hair.

It gave me the added benefit of a bit more time. Predators hate fire. They usually stayed away from it as a matter of course. Natural instincts about running away from wildfires would drive them away, or at least they would back on Earth. I hoped that translated to this world as well.

Grabbing a stick, I wrapped it in a bit of cloth off my shirt and lit the makeshift torch from the fire pit. Then, I went into the cave.

My spelunking trip wasnt very impressive. The cave only went about twenty feet in before it curved and entered into a small den that had been dug out by the pack. There, I found dozens of smaller wolf bodies. Murdered pups.

It was a sad sight, but one that was less cruel than letting them get taken by other predators, or worse, starving to death. The sight made me melancholy as I sorted through the corpses until I came across a massive body.

One that I knew had to have been the frost wolf in life. Its teeth were coated in still slowly melting ice, and it was larger than a horse. She had been the matriarch and had died protecting her cubs.

I placed a hand on her side. Im sorry it had to come to this. You were very brave. My voice echoed off the cave walls. And kept echoing.

No, that wasnt my voice. That was something else. Someone elses voice. Muffled and filled with panic. I couldnt make out what they were saying, or where they were. Until the corpse of the frost wolf tilted slightly.

Help! a desperate man yelled from under the wolf. Then the corpse rolled back, muffling his voice again.

I pulled out my ax. There was simply no way for me to move the creature. That left my only option. Carving through. As my ax swung down, I hoped the guy would survive long enough.