Page 2 of The Lion

During the last harvest, our farms produced meager crops. After taxes, there was nothing left to take care of our own families.”

At a loss as to what should be done for the people who looked to him for answers, Darach scanned the great hall. Too many still remained. Those that had been escorted out by the guards, would return and bring with them more demands for compensation or help.

“Inventory will be done of the grain reserves, ye must give us time,” Stuart interjected. “For now, each family will receive two sacks of grain, a pair of sheep, and four chickens.”

“There is much to be done. I ask that ye give me time,” Darach said meeting each man’s gaze. “I am not my father. I wish to work with ye and hear what ye have to say.”

The men exchanged questioning looks. One finally spoke. “We will return in a month’s time.”

“Nay. I will ride out to yer land. For now, prepare the portion of land that ye think will produce the most. Taxes will not be collected until after yer second harvest.”

The farmer’s faces brightened. “Thank ye, Laird,” they said and hurried out to collect their allotments.

Darach leaned toward his scribe. “Mark a reminder to meet with the farmers.”

Just then the men who’d been brawling, were dragged up to the front by guardsmen. One was bleeding from his nose and held his head back. The other had a split lip and cut above his eye, blood dripping down the side of his face.

“Laird,” one of the guardsmen said. “These men are fighting about poaching.” He recognized them. They’d stolen cattle back and forth from each other for years.

Darach studied the men, the one with the bleeding nose was very plump, fat really. A woman, just as plump, stood with him. The other man was healthy and heavy as well. He turned to Stuart. “Where are their lands?”

“Near the river. They share the lands just north of the farmers that were just speaking to ye.”

Facing the bleeding men, he studied one and then the other. The room quieted as people became curious to see what happened. “Where do ye get yer grain?”

Confused the men looked at one another. Finally, one replied. “From the miller in the village, like everyone else.”

“Ye both have plenty of butter because ye have milk from cows. I presume ye have chickens and sheep as well.”

Both nodded.

“Why is everyone around ye hungry?”

His nose had stopped bleeding, so the man looked Darach in the eyes. “I am the provider of meat and milk for the laird. It is I that has had the honor to ensure yer family is well-fed, my laird.” The man made a show of bowing.

“What about ye?” Darach asked the other man. “Ye have the same privileges, I presume.”

“I do not, my laird,” the man replied. “Unlike him.” He glared at the other man. “I am an honest man. I am not called to serve my laird, except to provide a yearly tax. I ensure that I feed the families of those that work for me.”

Darach looked about the room. “How many here raise livestock?”

A smattering of hands rose and Darach motioned for them to approach. Once the men were lined up, he noted that unlike the two who’d been fighting, the rest of the men were not as plump.

“Every month a different man will provide for the keep and will be paid for it.” The men exchanged excited looks. “As far as schedule, ye will meet with my brother Gideon to be assigned a time.” Darach hesitated for a beat. “Those in dire need will go first.”

The man with the cut above his eye waved his arms. “My laird, if I may be so bold. There are fourteen of us. That means two of us cannot serve ye.”

“Neither of ye will serve me for a year,” he told the two well-fed men.

The men stared at him with identical gaping wide mouths and eyes, and the wife of one of them swooned.

It was late in the day before the crowd in the room had finally thinned enough for last meal to be served.

People had been sent home with enough food and grain to last them for a few weeks. Herders were instructed to gift each family with a goat, sheep, or cow so that they could have milk. Chickens were also distributed.

The council would be discussing how to ensure the clan’s homes would be fortified enough for the upcoming cold weather of winter.

Darach stood and stretched. “I need to go for a walk before last meal.” Without waiting for anyone to remind him there were still matters that needed to be heard and things which needed to be discussed, he stalked across the room and out the front door.