Weight of the Tithe

In the Beginning

The plains were covered in blood. The hows and the whys Nara knew a little of from

whispers along each blade of grass, and in that moment she did not care. All she

knew was that a battle between soldiers erupted within the fields she and her

husband tended to, as they have been for generations. A battle that razed homesteads

with fire and magic. That butchered with stakes and steel.

All this over a spat between lords. A want of more territory within the plains of Una.

In a time when Anataya still was a series of lordships, where the King’s power only

extended up to the castle moat, and Lords watched themselves with steel.

Pressure

Within the Una Plains Nara and her husband, Koltin, worked the little patch of land

the lease of which inherited from Koltin’s father. “They be growing my dear.” Koltin

said, looking over a field the two spend all day plowing to seed potatoes under the

warming spring day.

“Yes, indeed, darling.” Nara replied while rubbing her swollen belly.

“Potatoes there, sunflowers, here...” Koltin mused. “Cuz Papy says we have to rotate

the crops.”

Nara smiled at that. “And soon, you be getting help out there.”

“Meanwhile, you think there is enough for tithe?”

“Worried there we can’t grow a tithe-stone’s worth of potatoes?”

Koltin smiled back. “Enough for the tithe, and extra to feed ourselves.”

That night they walked into the small homestead inherited from Koltin’s late father.

The wooden buillding of nailed lumber just starting to dry-rot and thatched roof

stood small, but timeless. Inside a simple table and stewing pot over a fireplace kept

alight.

“Did you hear about Dithily?” Nara asked while spooning out boiled potatoes, greens,

and seeds from the sunflowers.

“Oh? What trouble did she get into now?” He replied.

“Caught running around town with Greta’s bloomers he be!”

The two laughed. Koltin added “Lord Delian needs to keep a better eye on that rascal

of a son!”

“Think the boy just needs to settle down? He won’t be a boy for much longer.”

“The gods know I settled once I had your hand in marriage.”

More laughing.

Food consumed, with more stewing the next day, the two crawled onto the mat and

wrapped in a woollen blanket Nara got in a barter from bartering with a bundle of

sunflowers. The two laid next to each other Koltin asked, rhetorically, “Wonder how

you settled me down from sowing everywhere?”

“Oh Koltin.” Nara gripped him by the shirt and pulled him ontop of her. “I need not

wonder. Now come here, darling, before you become restless again.”

He took her up on that offer: unbuttoning her beige dress as she opened her legs for

him. Nara unbuckled his pants as he pulled off his shirt. He leaned down and kissed

her deeply. Her dress undone, his pants slipping off, Koltin fondled the curves of his

wife as he plunged his manhood deep inside of her wanting body. Over and over, he

rutted inside her until her body shock from the rapture his cock gave her and his seed

oozed out of her.

Koltin rolled off of her and held Nara’s hands. “I planted my seed, and its long

budding.” He whispered while freeing a hand to rub her stomach. “Indeed I wasted my seed. But you are a pretty lass and I would do it again. Seed well wasted.”

“A son shall be my gift to you, beloved.” Nara whispered back as the two fell asleep.

So their lives went. Lives they would still have if not for Lord Nutcher from the next

town over. Course, then there would be no story.

The next morning a knock upon their homestead door roused the two out of bed.

Koltin quickly slipped into beige trousers covered in stitches while bouncing to the

door. His nether covered he opened the door to Lord Delian’s page, to a boy just

starting to become a man. He wore light-coloured, cloak, a clean, white, shirt, and

green riding britches.

“Volim?” Koltin spoke, eying the kid with scrutiny while Nara slipped into a beige

dress in the background. “What honours do we have for your visit?”

The young man bowed. “Its a message from Lord Delian.” He said.

“Oh, is there?”

“I am the official messenger of his lordship.”

“Pray tell it be good news at least.” Koltin held his head.

“Afraid not mister.” Volim’s eyes looked down onto the dirt of the ground, then back

at Koltin. “His lordship, Lord Delian, has ordered that the tithe be raised to three

tithe-stones.”

“WHAT?” The bellow took Nara out of bed, seeing her husbands face red with rage.

“We’re barely getting by, and my wife carries my seed! Efore didn’t make the land

that bountiful!”

Volim nodded. “That is the decree of Lord Delian. If you can’t meet the tithe...”

“I know, the lease becomes void, and we are thrown off these lands.”

The boy nodded. “I’ve delivered my message mister. Goodbye.”

Nara approached her husband as the messenger walked down a path towards a

brown horse. “Did I hear that right? Three ?”

“Delian’s getting greedy...” Koltin muttered.

They went out to weed the fields of freshly planted crop. Koltin sweated in the cool

air. Nara simply thought One wayward plant out, to the next on loop to fight the

anxiety of an increased tax rate. The weeding complete Koltin inspected the house as

Nara started the fire to resume the cooking of the stew.

“Three...” Koltin spoke as he took a look at the flowers and root tubers they had.

Nara did the quick math too. “A tithe-stone is about a sac of potatoes. We can usually

get that by end of season with a bit to spare...”

The two looked at a sac about a third full of potatoes. “How are we getting three?”

The collection day hung in the air within Lord Delian’s feudal estate. Even in speaking

to others within the field.

“Not looking forward to Lohne this year.” Spoke Caliana while in the square that day.

The old woman had her grey hair wrapped in a worn scarf and wore a dress of manystitches. “No one’s going to have enough food to go around.”

“The festival of spring? When Daca beats off Nuya for reign in the sky?” Replied

Gregor, a large young man behind Caliana in simple rags with a sac of cabbage on

his back. “Still worth it for more daylight.”

“May the weather at least hold.” Nara said while carrying a bundle of sunflowers.

“The crops need rain with breaks so there is no flooding.”

“Still keeping cheery despite...” Caliana pointed to Nara’s belly. “The timing couldn’t

be worse for you.”

“I know.” Nara nodded. “I’m hoping there is enough to go around.”

“Koltin’s a good man, I know he will try.” Caliana said. “Course, I just hope things

don’t get bad. Why is Lord Delian doing this? At all?”

“Poor Volim.” Gregor said. “That kid has to be the one to explain it all to us.”

Nara nodded. “And some would take it worse than others.”

Meanwhile, that night Koltin took a breather with a little coin to drink a pint. “More

sweat in the fields, growing more potatoes and flowers.” Koltin said at the public

house near Lord Delian’s estate.

“Aye.” Bessie replied. “My rent is up too.”

“What is Delian thinking?” Mathio spat. “Does he know you can only squeeze so

much from the subjects?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Sether leaned into the bar. The katith merchant typically passed

through the towns in the region - buying, selling, and bartering. If there was gossip

outside the town he would know all about it.

Upon this invite to listen, Koltin leaned in, as did Mathio and Bessie. “What did you

hear, katith?” Koltin asked.

“Nutcher’s getting bolder.” Sether said.

“Isn’t that the next town over?” Bessie asked.

“Yes, fair wench it is.” He replied. “You see, Delian and Nutcher have been debating

the boundaries of their territories.”

“So?” Koltin shrugged. “That’s nothing new: they’ve been doing that for at least...

three generations now?”

Mathio piped in: “I remember my papy complaining about it. Forever pissing about

it.”

“You are all correct roughmen.” Sether nodded as he took a sip of his pint. “What

has changed is Lord Nutcher himself... or at least his stance on things. The last time I

was there I heard he be liking himself to a king.”

“A king. Him?” Mathio almost spat. “He thinks he’s in the same league as Anataya?”

“He’s something alright.” Bessie rolled her eyes.

Sether shrugged again. “The hows and whys I do not know. Course, I saw extra

guard and soldiers last I was there as well. If you ask me, I think Lord Nutcher came into a win fall of sorts. Such that it has emboldened him.”

“Of course...” Bessie shook her head. “Men for you. The only reason there was peace

between us was only because neither side could afford a war!”

“Katith.” Koltin looked the red-eyed merchant dead in the eyes. “What does this have

to do with the tithe?”

“Simple good roughman.” Sether straightened up on his stool. “Lord Nutcher

threatens aggression, Lord Delian needs to prepare for the event such are not empty.

He needs soldiers. Such costs coin and food.”

“The guard isn’t enough?” Koltin took a long gulp of his own beer.

“We aren’t talking simple bandits, Kolt.” Mathio replied. “These are going to be well

armed troupes.”

“Or at least Lord Delian believes Nutcher’s men will be bettered prepare than

raiders.” The katith finished his beer.

“Even with the wall we might not be completely safe.” Bessie looked down with a rag

to the table.

The night wound down as Koltin walked back to his homestead, greeting his

pregnant wife. She came back from the market with a bit of coin from selling a few

sunflowers to merchants. “Times be getting rough, indeed.” He mused while eating a

stew of potato, greens, and aged coonie.

“Yeah. That be true.” Nara looked to her belly, her eyes welling up.

Sleep between them fitful, the worry of making the tithe while still being able to eat

loamed ever so high.

Lohne came. A festival decorated with the flowers of spring and lanterns in the reds

known for Daca, the God of Might, fire, and the sun. The townfolk danced in the

square, hand in hand and leg over leg. Bessie let her products flow among the

partiers.

“Let my wares of yeast and barley keep you merry!” She called out. “Whether of

yeast to take the edge off or of potato to calm the nerves!”

Nara and Koltin stuck to the beer, as most of the town, to drink with the spring

supper of smoked pork from last year’s communal pig, dried berries, dandelion, and

roasted potato alongside bread made of barley. While the meat plentiful as Merker

the butcher slaughtered the pig during better times, the rest of it appeared smaller

from those in the town fearing too big a contribution meant being unable to pay the

raised tithe.

At the supper, Lord Delian stood from the wall of his estate in a red, silk, shirt, and

white britches. Standing beside him in full, steel, plate Sir Bentin held a hand to his

sword’s hilt while giving menacing glances through the helmet.

“He looks nervous.” Nara said to Koltin. “He’s never this nervous on Lohne.”

“The tithe was also one stone on the Lohne.” Koltin replied. Mathio leaned into the couple with a fist of bacon. “He’s afraid.” The man said.

“Of what?” Nara asked. “Of us, or Lord Nutcher?”

“Yes.”

With a shaky voice, Lord Delian delivered his Lonhe speech:

“My dear subjects! Let us give Efore our thanks for our bounty to hold as Daca

regains his reign in the sky! The warmth to bless these lands with a fuelling fire, and

keep back the eternal darkness! May he warm the earth so it can provide!”

Merker stood up. “To provide? For who? You?”

His wife, Lunia, gripped his shoulder. “Dear, please!” She begs while pushing on the

angry butcher.

“Our tithe is so high, might as well be preying to the gods to help his Lordship, not

us!” Mathio called out.

Lord Delian took a breath. “Yes, times are tough now. But...”

“But what? We somehow won’t starve to death?”

Sir Bentin found his voice: “We have new threats to attend to. The safety of these

lands is worth more now.”

Mathio spat. “Nutcher’s lying! He’s not going to do shit!”

Within the crowd Gregor lifted his mother up onto his shoulders. The little old lady

then called out “This is not the time lads! Its Lohne: the day of light and life! Birth and

rebirth! Of Daca’s dance with Efore! Stop fighting!”

On Caliana’s words the square settled down. The supper finished and night falling the

peasants got to work removing the decorations that wouldn’t just rot away or be

eaten by rodents.

Indeed, as the couple went to sleep in their home, Nara uttered: “That was on

Lohne... a day of celebration, that a riot almost broke out.”

“I am not looking forward to collection day.” Koltin replied as they fell asleep.

Salted Lands

The days leading up were spent in the fields, watering and weeding while bartering

for coin and other goods from merchants in the market.

Nara approached Sether with sunflowers - these crops had little value in the eyes of

Delian, but merchants could sell them as ‘exotic oddities’ in places like Sinikas within

the Dead Desert. As she did, she noticed some unfamiliar men dressed in green and

blue being let in through the wall and into the estate.

“Who are they?” Nara asked Sether while he inspected the flowers.

“Dignitaries from Nutcher fair roughwoman.” He replied.

“Nutcher... what would they want here?” Nara held her head, confused.

“Likely to talk about how to maintain the peace.” Sether poked a finger in the centre

of a flower, feeling the seeds. “Or, to put it boldly: kneel or be invaded.”

“You mean, threaten our lord?”

“What else? Uh, twenty cuprums?”

Nara looked to the cobblestone. “To what end?”

“To expand territory? Extort from his Lordship? Who knows.”

“Why now? The lords of Nutcher have had many years - three generations. What’s

changed?”

“I have no idea, but...” Sether looked towards the gate through the wall. The men

from Nutcher long inside and Ambros, the guard, just eying the katith merchant with

suspect. In a lower voice he kept talking: “I think he’s found himself a magi... or is

magical himself.”

“M-magi?”

“Oh yes. And a powerful one at that... did you hear about what happened to Helixa?”

“No... what happened?”

“Razed to the ground. Now, I don’t know who did it, but... if Nutcher did it...”

“They might be using that to scare Lord Delian.”

“Better Duke than dead.”

“How dreadful.” Nara whispered, trying to get the image of Delian on fire out of her

mind.

“So, is twenty cuprums good?” Sether asked again.

“Oh, yes, that’s good, yes.” Nara handed the flowers over and Sether handed her

twenty copper coins from his coin-rope - coins used in Anataya and surrounding area

were minted with holes in the middle to fix a rope through.

She returned to her homestead with Koltin at the table in their house. His expression

long.

“Husband, is something wrong?” She asked.

“I saw men coming.” He replied. “I squinted to make sure they weren’t bandits.“They were knights in Nutcher colours.”

“There were people from there in the square.” Nara said. “Talking to Lord Delian.”

“About what?”

“Keeping peace... or so Sether tells me.”

Koltin leaned his head on the table. “Is Delian right? Could another lord invade us?”

“I hope not, how ghastly! Especially with your son on the way!”

He sat back up. “The fruit of your womb could be a girl... but... yeah. The timing...

couldn’t be worse.”

Soon the horrid day came when the tithe needed to be paid. Koltin headed out from

the homestead carrying three sacs of potatoes, emboldened from a kiss on the cheek

by Nara. As part of the ritual the head of every household lined up by the wall of the

lord’s estate where a large scale looms over. Forged of cast-iron the large contraption

sat. One side of it a hunk of granite the size of a ukulele sat on the large scales - the

tithe-stone. The other, empty, where the wares of the household went. One guard,

Ambros, loamed over the scales in leather armours and a spear in hand. Sir Bentin in

half-plate scanned the line with light-blue eyes.

Normally, it wouldn’t be so bad. All Koltin needed to do was wait his turn. Once at

the scale he unloaded the sac onto the scale and hope there was enough inside to lift

the tithe-stone. Volim, Lord Delian’s page, would make note of it while the guard

opened the sac to inspect it. Satisfied there were no stones or other worthless weights

inside Koltin would be dismissed while the guard placed the goods onto a cart to be

taken onto the estate. Sir Bentin supervised it all, ensuring no one butted in line or

got violent with the guard.

Today, however, Koltin and the others watched Gregor lift and place two more

granite stones, each about the size of the tithe-stone, onto the scale. His large arms

flexing as he placed the stone one at a time as the ground of wiry men gathered with

the spoils of their labour. Several of them grumbled.

One by one the men approached the scale, carts and sacs on hand. As per the ritual,

one by one, each man placed his sacs onto the scales, and watched to see if there was

any lift.

Koltin watched as some of his neighbours placed the sacs onto the scales, and even

with all of their might the scale did not budge. This happened to Mathio. His three

sacs of grain didn’t lift the scale.

“Please, mercy, please!” He plead as Volim made a note in his notebook. “It only be

the one season! Please!”

“That will be Lord Delian’s decision.” The page simply said before calling “Next!”

Gadile, the neighbour in the next patch of land from Koltin’s, came up with his sacs.

The heavy side lifted. Ambros went to inspect one of the sacs, then looked the older,

sweat-stained man and shouted “Seriously? Seriously!”

Volim took a peek and nodded as Sir Bentin approached. “What seems to be the issue?” He asked.

“This cheat figured he could fill his bags with riverstone, put a thin layer of cabbage

and potato, and figure it would stay in place as he moved the bags!” Ambros had his

finger pointing at Gadile.

Bentin took a peek, then gripped Gadile by the shirt, pulling the man close to then

punch him repeatly while saying “You would cheat your lord, who allows you on

these lands?”

“The... tithe... sir... please...” Gadile choked out between punches.

Bentin slammed the peasent against the the wall of the estate and watched him slump

down. “Insolance!” Spat the knight.

Volim stood there, his eye wide and jaw dropped at the violence. Once the beating

ended and Sir Bentin resumed his patrol up and down the line the young page’s face

went neutral as he wrote something down. He took a breath, then said “Next.”

Koltin took a deep breath and walked up to the scale. The metal loomed over him,

determining his fate within the lands. If he couldn’t make tithe, not only would he and

his wife be homeless, but they would be out in the wilderness with no protection

from wildlife or bandits. One by one, he placed his sacs of potatoes. He watched, his

eyes wide, his breathing quick, his stomach knotting up.

On the last sac he stood. Three sacs when he normally paid one. Into the air he

whispered “Please, in the name of Daca, Nuya, and Efore... please let this be enough...

please.”

With a groan the heavy-end of the scale lifted off the ground as his end lowered.

Once they reached equilibrium the guard opened the sacs and looked them over.

“Potatoes.” All the guard said.

Volim made a note of that with his paper and quill. “Next,” he said.

As he walked off he heard Aden in the background screaming “This is horseshit! One

stone is hard enough, but three!?” Followed by him pushing Sir Bentin, and Sir Bentin

pushing back, sending the farmer onto the ground. Koltin’s face marred and his lips

long and straight, he walked back to his homestead.

“We passed, Nara, my beloved.” He said as he sat next to his wife in the shared bed.

“Can we do it again?” Nara asked, her belly so large a pin could pop it.

“I... I don’t know.” Koltin said. “I hope the crop doesn’t fail.”

So again, they toiled the fields. The next mouths of summer went as hard as the

previous season. Toiling in the hot Una weather. The two felt faint as their skin oozed

sweat and blisters, and their sleep drew short. Only time to themselves they spend

gathering seeds for the crop while selling sunflowers to the merchants.

Nara stepped into the square one day looking for merchants. As she walked she saw

Gregor carrying Ambros over his shoulder as Caliana and Efide walked in front.

Curiosity overtook the pregnant woman as she looked over the four. At first she

saw blood on Gregor’s shoulder from where Ambros laid limp upon. Then, she noticed blood all over Ambros and his leather armours.

“By the gods what happened?” Nara uttered, her voice squeaking from shock.

“His switch off, Tanato, found him like this.” Efide stopped walking to reply to Nara,

letting Caliana and her son pass. The little man in earth tones and a necklace of grass

had his face wrinkle in worry, looking at Nara with his ashen skin.

“Bandits?”

“Likely. Course, we won’t know until he comes ‘round.”

He then sprinted off to catch up with his companions.

Sether stood not far, his red eyes analyzing everything as they fell onto Nara. “That’s

not good.” The merchant said.

“Bandits and raiders are never good.” She replied while handing him a bundle of

flowers.

He shook his head while looking over the large, yellow, flowers. “Naw, that ain’t

bandits.” He said. “Bandits would strip him naked if they knocked him out... maybe

killed him. And why didn’t he have time to blow the horn around his neck?”

“Who else would attack a guard and just leave him?”

“A knight from Nutcher, maybe? Thirteen cuprums.”

“You think they are planning an invasion... and only thirteen?”

He shrugged. “Taking out guard, one at a time, is a strategy for those with time.

Time bandits do not have... and these flowers aren’t in good shape. Weird,

considering its summer - when sunflowers do their best growing.”

“Alright. Sold. But why are they doing this at all?”

Coins exchanged and the money rope wrapped through their holes, Sether gave an

interesting answer: “Nutcher has since claimed two towns - Tyimph and Vurst. Now

they have more resources to throw at a war.”

“Oh... oh...” Nara nodded. “Why would those towns join?”

“Baxing’s gone, much like Helixa.” Sether replied. “Rumours speak it being done not

by mere bandits, but knights from a Lordship with magi. Made an example of.”

She walked back to the homestead. There, in the field, she saw Koltin standing over a

plot of potatoes, the knuckle of his hand in his mouth.

“Something be the matter?” She asked.

“These potatoes were planted just before the spring tithe.” Koltin said pointing at a

mount of disturbed dirt. “Its halfway through Cordaca, these should be showing

shoots by now.”

“You mean fourteen days?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? These look more recent.”

“I know...” Koltin growled.

“Oh dear, if your right...” Nara swayed on her feet, holding her swollen belly.“Yeah... I might be just panicking. We barely made the tithe last time.”

The two walked along their fields, checking the other plants. It indeed appeared that

they growing slower than usual. “These sunflowers, they should be taller than this.”

Nara remarked.

“Its only early in. Let’s not worry.” Koltin spoke with a quiver in his voice.

Nara bowed her head as the two walked into their house for a scant supper of flower

greens.

By the second corter, halfway through the season, the sown seeds barely grew.

Sunflowers planted in the spring were barely mature. Potato shoots just coming out

of the ground when they should have been harvested by then. Dinners consisted

more of sunflower greens and random forage while cursing the soil.

“What is going on?” Koltin uttered one hot day. “The weather isn’t being queer and

the water still plentiful.”

“I know. I know.” Nara just looked at her large stomach, as if ready to burst. Her

face wrinkled, her eyes welling with tears, her body shaking.

“Damn the timing too...” Koltin kicked at dirt, stomping loudly. “First the tithe

increase now crop failure? While expecting our first child?”

The next day, while harvesting what little they could in the field, Nara’s water broke.

Koltin carried his wife through the fields as water gushed out of her. Once inside he

laid her down on their shared bed.

“I’m getting Caliana... just hold on!” Koltin commanded.

“Oh...kay...” Nara grunted between seething pain. He sprinted out as Nara laid in the

house, the time ticking her contractions delivered her so much pain she screamed

while sweating.

All while Koltin navigated the chaotic square. Several of his neighbours stood by the

estate, some trying to break into the wall.

“Lower the tithe!” Mathio screamed. “The crops are failing!”

“These lands be cursed! What had his lordship done?” Cried out Aden.

Koltin upped his elbows and pushed through the crowd. His hands landed on Merker

who screamed “You watch where you’re going! Not everyone can be at front!”

“My wife’s giving birth! Out of my way!” Koltin called back while fighting through

the mob. As he pressed through he bumped into well dressed men in Nutcher

colours. A couple of them appeared smiling as they pushed their way through

themselves.

In the mess he found Caliana, the midwife. She stood in her earthly browns as Koltin

approached her. The woman of graying blond hair and wise, brown, eyes, saw him

come up. She said, before he could tell her anything “Is it time, young man?”

“Yes!” He replied.

The two raced to the homestead. The head was partway out by the time Koltin and Caliana entered the house. Nara gripped sheets as she cried from the agony.

“Alright, what do we have?” Caliana said as she checked Nara’s groin. “Ok... Nara,

give me a push.”

She did, folllowing that, screaming of a baby. Nara started breathing as the midwife

prepared the child, cutting the fleshy cord that connected the child to the mother.

“Its a boy.” The midwife said, wrapping the child and handing him to Nara.

Caliana gave the baby one last lookover, smiling while saying “This child looks to be

in good health.”

“What shall he be named?” Nara asked, looking up to her husband.

“Huh? Perhaps after my grandpapy, Wranith.” Koltin repiled.

“Wranith?” Nara looked disappointed.

After some further debate they settled on the name Renti.

Explosion

Their lives where harder than they needed to be. Not only was there renewed

pressure to grow enough to feed themselves and pay the tithe, but now a baby

entered their lives that Nara needed to tend to, and one more mouth that needed

feeding.

Dark circles lined Koltin’s eyes as he lined up for the paying of the tithe. The ritual

went on, noting that other heads of household all stood, eyes drooping and gaits

slow. All as one by one they placed their sacs to be measured to the three big rocks

representing the value of the goods. All baking under the summer sun.

Ambros stood in his usual spot with stitches on his face and a patch on his eye. Koltin

observed the guard only looking at bags with one hand. Was he still hurt? The

thought raced through his mind as he noted Sir Bentin marching up and down, his

eyes glossy and a dent in his armour.

He waited as he took note of multiple signs with the sword and shield symbol of the

guard and an extended hand. There was words written underneath to translate the

kant in the event the viewer could read: “The guard is recruiting! Looking for strong,

healthy, young men. Will feed and train. Apply at the wall gate.”

“Damn...” He uttered outloud at the sight of the signage.

Koltin watched three men fail the tithe. One, Gadile, just walked away. Next an older

man who cried. “Please, we’re starving!”

“The Lord will decide this.” Volim replied, his face long and near ashen.

Next Aden, who walked with someone small, covered from head to toe. An unusual

sight as only adult men were needed for collection day, children would be with their

mothers at their respective homesteads. When his sacs failed to lift the scale he placed

this covered person onto the scale. As the scale lifted the blanket coverings came off

revealing a little girl.

“Aden... what are you doing?” Ambros asked.

“I am paying the tithe with my daughter.” He said. “We are hungry and cannot afford

her anymore. So we sell her to the lord.”

Volim’s face contorted in discomfort. “Oh on Daca’s taint.” He uttered before saying

“I... I will take it up with his lordship.”

Koltin never knew whether he met the tithe or not, as Mathio up ahead screamed

“This is bullshit! Your cuck of a lord has the nerve to expect the tithe to still be paid?”

at Volim.

“That will be Lord...” Volim said while making a note next to a scale with sacs held

high on one end and the three large stones low to the ground on the other.

“Oh fuck Delian you twat!” Mathio took a swing at Volim. Ambros got infront and

grabbed the angry farmer before his fist connected to Volim.

“The crop failed!” Mathio carried on. “Nothing’s growing on lands struggling with this triple tithe bullshit!”

Several men in the line started chanting “Here here!” Sir Bentin approached Mathio,

restrained by Ambros, as the crowd of tired and stressed men started stirring.

“Mathio...” Bentin said with a hand on the farmer’s shoulder, eyes making unerring

contact. “I get it, the burden on you is hard. We do not live in normal times.”

“Nutcher isn’t going to do nothing.” Mathio spat on the knight. As the wade of saliva

dripped down the plate Bentin cocked his fist.

“They already have, you dumb peasant!” Bentin’s fist connected with Mathio’s face.

The force knocked the farmer to the ground as the knight kept speaking: “They’ve

attacked the guard. Ambros got lucky! Did you not hear about Cadean?”

“Liar!” Mathio called out as he tried to stand. “You and your fellow knights did that

to Ambros and Cadean, and others.”

Sir Bentin kicked him. “How dare you! How dare you! We defend you and this is the

thanks we get?”

Mathio laid on the ground on his stomach as he said “Like you defend me?”

Bentin went to kick him again. The sound of a cracking bone echoed in the area. The

only reason Bentin couldn’t do it again had to do with Gregor and his large form

tackling Bentin to the ground as two other men reached for Mathio. Others raced up

and dogpiled on Bentin. Upon the screams several guards in their leather armours

raced to the square. Farmers and guards took swings at eachother. Some took out

weapons, if they had them.

Koltin gripped his goods and ran. Against his back he felt potatoes roll out of the sacs

and onto the ground. Sprinting to get away from the riot breaking out before him,

the erupting chaos. As he escaped the square he could have sworn he saw someone,

a fellow hun in dirtied clothes looking onto the scene unfazed as if the square had

been empty.

Once at the homestead Nara almost jumped while she gripped her son on her breast.

“Koltin... did something happen?” She asked. “You... you look... awful.”

“Riot.” He said. “I barely got out myself.”

“Will they still want the tithe?” Nara’s eyes narrowed on the sacs still with potatoes

inside.

“Eventually...” Koltin sat on the bed. “Eventually.”

“Not looking forward to Bentin visiting.” Nara took a seat next to her husband while

nursing Renti.

“Oh, Nara I am sorry.”

“What for?”

“The timing... how can it be so bad? Renti, my little boy, I’m so sorry.” Koltin started

crying. Nara leaned on his shoulder and wept as well. First a tithe increase, then a

crop failure, and now anarchy. Nara wrapped her son up and placed him back in his cradle. She and Koltin held eachother as they fell to sleep.

The visit from Sir Benton looking for the tithe never came. That morning the two

awoke to the sound of horns - the alarms of Delian. In haste Nara raced to her son as

Koltin peeked out the window. He saw a small crowd in the distance. Who or what

they were he couldn’t tell, the sight enough to have Koltin grab his wife by the hand.

“Bandits.” He said.

No one needed to tell Nara again as the two fled their house running to the square

where the entrance to the wall lay. The wall that the peasants of the town paid to use

in the event of a raid. At the square a mess laid out for them: blood stained the

cobblestone, there was a dent in the scale, various crops laid all over the place, and a

couple of men laid against the wall, unmoving.

“Oh... by the gods...” Nara uttered at the horrifying sight.

The iron gate of the stone wall stood wide open. Nara and Koltin sprinted in, leaning

against the wall as they caught their breaths and waited for someone to close the

gate. Moments passed as screaming became part of the ambience. The two, Renti in

Nara’s arms, looked upon the Lord’s estate, looking weirdly dark.

Within the darkness a ghastly sight welcomed them. On a tree dangled Sir Bentin,

striped of his armour, his linen underclothes soaked in blood. His limbs bent at

unnatural angles with broken bone poking out.

“In the name of Daca, Nuya, and Efore... what the...” Koltin uttered.

“Nuya... mercy...” Nara replied.

Several others sprinted in, joining Koltin and Nara by the wall. Aden looked towards

Koltin, asking “What’s going on?”

“Bandits.” Koltin replied.

“You sure?”

Bessie crossed the wall, looking behind her. “You sure? Where are the guards?”

“Think the fuckers are on strike for the tithe not being paid?”

Koltin pointed to the dead body hanging on a tree. Bessie’s jaw dropped and eyes

widened in horror while Aden rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, the bastard had it coming.

Happened yesterday.” The fellow farmer had his tanned arms crossed. “I mean, you

saw what he did to Mathio.”

“Must have been the riot.” Bessie bowed her head.

Nara closed her eyes just to think. Yes, Sir Benton was a men to fear crossing... He

didn’t deserve this.

Within a few moments fire erupted from the estate. Horror widened their faces as

they just looked to eachother, then outside, where the crowd got closer and more

obvious who they were.

Soldiers. Knights in plate. Guards in leather. All in the green and whites of Nutcher. A few guards and a knight from Delian engaged them, weapons drawn. They

fell quickly, being overwhelmed by three Nutcher knights. One guard of Delian fell

and the others fled screaming.

Koltin gripped Nara’s hand and they bolted out of the wall away from the estate. As

they ran one Nutcher guard’s eyes lit up, glowing orange, followed by a wave of fire

coming towards them. Koltin only had seconds to push his wife, and in turn son,

away from the flames before they engulfed him.

“Koltin!” Nara cried out as she watched him dissolve into ash. Accenting the grim

scene Lord Delian’s estate exploded behind them. She had little more time before

forcing herself to run. Troupes from Nutcher marched onward, swinging weapons at

people fleeing their steads. Tears went down her face, being unable to process

anything around her.

In her run she saw two knights standing side by side in front of her. She zigged in an

attempt to avoid this wall of hun. As she rounded the one knight his sword dug into

her tight. Even as the immense pain of the blade slashed her open, she didn’t stop

running.

Ignoring the fact she had been slashed with a sword she fled past the palisade

decorated with dead guards. Ambros laid among them, thought while she noticed she

had no time to think about it. She just ran, gripping her infant son tightly in her arms,

with no aim of where to go. She screened through the chaos and danger around her,

drowning out the crackling of fire, screams of fellow hun, explosions, and marching.

Ahead she saw the grouping of trees grow denser and denser under the setting sun.

Upon seeing the thickening trees she immediately thought Fae’Una Forest? The

forbidden wood? A wood said to be haunted - claimed by fae in the long ago. These

woods were nearby Delian’s estate, and were notorious lush due to lack of settlement.

Nara knew little more after that.

Fire erupted behind her. The wound left by steel as she fleed her homestead kept

bleeding. Powered purely by the rush left in fear’s wake she ran, limping on a limb of

cut tendons, towards the wood.

Twilight settled into the Fae’una woods. In the dark night Nara dragged herself

through the brush, clutching onto her son as her own dress became heavy with her

own viscera. The pain jolted throughout her body with every step, every trip over

untamed wilderness no lord wanted to settle. The fear high fading, she felt it all, and

her own tears fell as she whimpered.

Her left leg became useless as she dragged the bleeding mess through the trees,

leaving blood to be followed by wolves and bears. Any howling she heard in the

distance, any crickets chirping, any owls calling out, all drowned out by a blood fever

creeping through her veins.

With one last break through twisting vines she found a clearing surrounding a large

tree - the largest she had ever seen. Its trunk easily reached the heavens and was asthick as her old homestead. Dismissed as her failing vision she saw orbs of light dance

around and along the tree under the moonlight.

She walked just up to the tree then collapsed onto her back, remaining mindful of

her child in her arms.

“Its going to be ok Renti, its going to be ok...” She said, more to herself than anyone.

Upon the sky she looked up at the stars surrounding the crystal moon that shown

fully every thirty days. On the stars she wished “Please... help...”

Her breath became laboured as nature’s embrace came upon her. Through her vision

white shades in the shape of people formed around her. The balls of floating light

circled around. “Ren...ti...” child-like voices echoed fainting.

Nara’s vision tunnelled. A voice that echoed from all around in a deep majesty said

“The tamed are not welcome here.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, “I’m sorry... I...” she coughed, blood coming down her lips.

“Help me...”

“Help.” The voice repeated.

“Save... my... son... if you...” Nara coughed. She felt hands upon her and her shield

being wrestled out of her arms as her eyes closed. The loss of blood, pain, and fever

from infection made their claim upon her.