Chapter 11 - Tension Between Aldric and the Farmers

Aldric and Lucien walked side by side, the air heavy with the scent of tilled soil and the sounds of the farm in full swing. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the workers who labored under its heat. The rhythmic movements of the farmers, tending to the crops with practiced hands, seemed almost meditative—yet Aldric's mind was far from at ease.

He had been thinking for days about the growing bandit problem in Marquis Gustov's territory, the threat to the region's safety increasingly dire. The bandits were becoming bolder, and Aldric knew that finding a way to neutralize them was a necessity for the stability of his land. But even as he mulled over tactics and strategies to address the problem, something about the farmstead caught his attention.

The sight of the workers moving through the rows of crops, their backs bent from the labor, stirred something within him. He had noticed before the way their methods seemed outdated, and though it wasn't a pressing issue in his mind compared to the bandit threat, it was something he could address now. The potential to not only improve the lives of the people here but to strengthen the very foundation of Ravensbourne's prosperity was right in front of him.

"Lucien," Aldric began, his voice thoughtful, "while I've been considering ways to deal with the bandits from Marquis Gustov's territory, I think there's something else we can work on here."

Lucien raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Aldric gestured to the fields, where farmers moved between rows of crops, their bodies moving with effort and routine. 

"We've been relying on these traditional methods for so long, but I can't help but think there's a way to improve them. We could double the yield, reduce the strain on the workers, and ensure that we never face a shortage here again."

Lucien glanced over at the workers with a knowing look. 

"You've got ideas. What are you thinking?"

Before Aldric could respond, he caught sight famers near by a burly, older farmer hunched over sticks out, planting crops with a deep focus. Aldric slowed his steps and turned to Lucien.

"Mind if I talk to him?" he asked, his tone light but purposeful.

"Go ahead," Lucien replied, his voice soft. "Lets go over"

Aldric made his way toward to the farmer, who straightened and wiped sweat from his brow as he noticed Aldric approaching.

"My lord," the old farmer greeted, his voice gruff but respectful. "What brings you to the fields today?"

Aldric smiled, his gaze scanning the work being done. "I've been looking at the crops, and I've got something in mind. I was wondering if you could tell me about the techniques you're using here. What works well and what doesn't?"

The famer raised an eyebrow, his expression guarded. "We do what we can. It's the same as it's been for years. Crops grow, but we always work hard for it. Nothing too fancy."

"I've seen ways that might make it easier on you," Aldric said thoughtfully. "There are methods that could help the soil, reduce the effort, and ultimately make your work less taxing. And we could increase what's grown here—help the people here thrive."

The farmers around the two grunted, clearly skeptical. "More crops, less work? Sounds like wishful thinking to me."

Aldric's smile widened slightly, though there was no humor in it. "It's not magic. It's about using techniques that are already out there—methods I've seen in other lands. It's about improving the soil, rotating crops, and planting in ways that take advantage of the land's natural strengths." Aldric telling the truth since he came from the distant future.

The farmer gave him a steady look. "And you think that'll work here?"

"I do," Aldric replied, his voice firm. "I'm not asking you to trust me on this. But if I can show you how these methods can change things, will you consider them?"

There was a long silence as the farmer looked at him, eyes narrowing in thought. Finally, he gave a slow nod.

Aldric asked his name was.

"My apologies, my name is Wulfric my lord." Wulfric looking at Aldric carefully. "Alright, my lord. I'll listen. But I won't believe it 'til I see it."

Aldric met his gaze with resolve. "I intend to introduce methods that will double your crop yields, improve the soil, and ensure Ravensbourne never faces famine again. These changes will lift your burdens and secure our future."

Some of the men scoffed. A younger farmhand muttered, "Sounds like noble talk. What would a lord know about farming?"

Aldric heard it clearly, but instead of anger, he smiled. It was the same skepticism he faced in his past life whenever he challenged outdated methods.

"You don't believe me?" he asked.

The young man hesitated. "It's just… my father farmed this land before me, and his father before him. If there was a better way, wouldn't we have already done it?"

Murmurs of agreement followed.

Lucien sighed. "Aldric, you're fighting centuries of tradition here."

Aldric didn't falter. Tradition was just outdated knowledge that no one had bothered to challenge.

He turned back to the farmers. "Fine. Let's settle this with a test."

Wulfric raised a brow. "A test?"

Aldric nodded. "I'll set aside a field where I'll implement my methods. You keep farming the way you always have. At the next harvest, we compare results."

The farmers exchanged uncertain looks.

"And if we refuse?" Wulfric asked.

Aldric smirked. "Then I'll have no choice but to issue a direct order as your lord."

The tension thickened.

Wulfric narrowed his eyes. "And what if your 'methods' fail?"

Aldric crossed his arms. "If my methods fail, you can choose a request of your own, within reason, and I'll honor it."

A long pause. Then, Wulfric grinned. "A bold wager, my lord. Very well—we accept."

Lucien chuckled. "You really don't know when to back down, do you?"

Aldric grinned. "Not when the future is at stake."

The challenge had been set. Now, it was time to prove his vision.

Aldric leaned on the fence bordering the wheat fields, watching the farmers' expressions shift between skepticism and outright resistance. He had seen this kind of reaction before—people clinging to old ways out of habit, fearing change even when it was for their own good.

Lucien sighed, rubbing his temple. "So let me get this straight—you're going to bet your authority as lord on a farming experiment?"

Aldric smirked. "Not my authority. Just my credibility."

Lucien scoffed. "Same thing."

Then Wulfric grunted, a hint of respect in his gaze. "You've got guts, I'll give you that." He glanced at the other farmers, then nodded. "Alright, we'll give your methods a chance, but if your method slow us down you'll provide us with rations that will last us the up comming winter."

Some of the younger men chuckled, their previous skepticism lightening.

Aldric smirked. "Fair enough."

Lucien muttered, "You're going to regret this…"

Aldric turn to Wulfic and informed him, "Ill be back in a couple days to make my preparations."

Aldric left for his manor with Lucien.

Couple of days have past, Aldric arrived at the designated plot of land with a wooden wagon in tow, wearing simple work clothes, his usual noble attire replaced with a plain tunic and sturdy boots. He had tied his hair back, ready to work.

Lucien, standing nearby with his arms crossed, looked deeply amused. "You look ridiculous."

Aldric shot him a look. "I'd rather look ridiculous than incompetent."

"Lucine," he began, his voice steady, "I think it's time I see this firsthand. I'll work the field myself."

Lucien blinked, clearly surprised. "You? Work the field?"

Aldric nodded with a determined expression. "It's one thing to talk about changes from a distance. But to truly understand the challenge, I need to experience it myself. I need to see the effort it takes."

Lucien let out a light laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, I can't say I saw that coming. But if you're determined, who am I to stop you?"

As Aldric moved toward the workers, a few farmers paused and looked up at him, their brows furrowing in confusion. Wulfric, still standing nearby, was the first to speak up.

"My lord… you plan on working the fields?" Wulfric asked, clearly surprised.

Aldric gave a simple nod, "Yes, I think it's important to get a feel for the work you do every day."

A few of the younger farmers exchanged bewildered looks, but there was a shared sense of admiration in their gazes. Aldric, a nobleman of high standing, was about to toil in the very fields they worked to feed the kingdom. It was a rarity, to say the least.

One of the younger farmers, a man named Tom, finally spoke up. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day. The lord himself… working alongside us."

The farmers watched warily, still unsure whether their young lord would follow through. A few soldiers stood at a distance, snickering among themselves, still doubtful about Aldric's "new" methods.

Wulfric tossed Aldric a wooden hoe. "Since you're so eager to work, lets start by loosening the soil."

Aldric caught the hoe but barely spared it a glance. Instead, he turned to a small wooden cart nearby, where something covered with a cloth rested.

He pulled off the cloth, revealing several strange-looking tools neatly arranged inside. The farmers frowned, exchanging uncertain glances.

"What the hell is all that?" Wulfric asked.

Aldric smirked. "New ways to make your lives easier."

The Bident Hoe.

He picked up the first tool, which resembled a hoe but had two sturdy prongs instead of one. The iron tips curved slightly inward, forming a shape that was somewhere between a plow and a rake.

"This," Aldric said, raising the tool, "is a bident hoe. It works like a normal hoe, but the twin prongs let you dig deeper and loosen more soil in a single swing."

One of the older farmers scoffed. "A hoe's a hoe, my lord. Ain't nothing special about swinging it."

Aldric stepped forward, planting his feet firmly before driving the bident hoe into the dry earth. Instead of struggling to break through, the curved prongs sank into the soil effortlessly. With a simple pull, he turned up twice as much dirt as a regular hoe would in a single stroke.

The farmers immediately leaned in.

"Hah?" one of them muttered.

Wulfric frowned, stepping closer. "Lemme see that."

Aldric smirked and handed him the tool. Wulfric swung it down—expecting resistance—but instead nearly stumbled forward as the prongs sliced through the earth too smoothly. He blinked, then tried again, covering three times the ground he normally would in the same amount of effort.

"Damn," he muttered, pushing his sweaty hair back. "That's… actually good."

A few of the other farmers began murmuring among themselves, shifting forward for a better look.

Lucien smirked. "So, you've impressed one brute. What's next?"

The Seed Planter Stick.

Aldric turned back to the cart and picked up what looked like a long wooden staff with a hollow shaft running through it. At the bottom, a small metal tip formed a narrow opening, and there was a simple trigger near the handle.

"This," Aldric said, holding it up, "is a seed planter stick."

The farmers stared. One of them crossed his arms. "That's just a fancy walking stick."

Aldric didn't argue. Instead, he took a handful of barley seeds from a pouch at his waist and dropped one into the hollow shaft. Then, he walked to a prepared row, pressed the stick's tip into the ground, and pulled the trigger.

With a small clicking sound, the seed dropped perfectly into the soil at the right depth.

The watching farmers froze.

Aldric continued, repeating the action as he walked in a straight line. Each step, another seed dropped—evenly spaced, perfectly placed, and without him ever bending over.

"…What the hell?" someone muttered.

A younger farmer, clearly skeptical, stepped forward. "Lemme try."

Aldric handed him the tool. The boy fumbled at first, but after the second try, his eyes widened.

"Oi! This is—this is easy!" He turned excitedly to his peers. "You just—just press it in and click, and that's it! No more hunchin' over!"

Another farmer snatched the stick from him, trying it for himself. Within seconds, he too looked stunned.

"This'll cut planting time in half…" he whispered, staring at the stick as if it were a relic from the gods.

Lucien whistled. "Looks like you've won them over."

Aldric smirked but wasn't done yet. "I'm just getting started."

The Hand-Pulled Harrow

Finally, Aldric pulled out the last finished tool—a wooden harrow with sharp iron teeth. It looked like a small wooden sled with spikes underneath.

Instead of explaining, he grabbed the handles and pulled. As the harrow dragged across the ground, its iron teeth broke up clumps of soil in seconds, creating a smooth planting bed without needing constant hoeing.

One farmer practically jumped forward to take it from him. He dragged it behind him, eyes widening as he saw how easily the earth became soft and even.

"This… This'll save us hours of work," he muttered.

Aldric dusted off his hands. "Exactly."

The farmers were fully convinced now, nodding and murmuring in approval as they passed the tools around, testing them out.

The Water Wheel

Aldric crossed his arms, watching them work.

Then, he turned his gaze toward the small stream running near the field. He had one last idea to share—one that would revolutionize how they irrigated the fields.

"As for my final tool," he said, raising his voice so everyone could hear, "it's still not complete. It'll take time—and the help of skilled craftsmen—but I'll tell you what it is."

The farmers, already eager from the previous tools, gathered around to listen.

Aldric pointed toward the stream. "We'll build a water wheel irrigation system. Instead of carrying water by hand, we'll use the river's current to lift water into wooden channels that lead directly to the fields."

A heavy silence followed. The farmers exchanged glances.

"…You mean, the river will do the work for us?" one of them asked, disbelief in his voice.

Aldric nodded. "Exactly. It will take time, but once it's in place, you'll never have to haul buckets again."

A long pause. Then—

One of the older men groaned loudly and dropped his bucket. "You're tellin' me I've been haulin' water like a damn mule all these years—for nothin'?!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd, though underneath it was a deep sense of excitement.

Wulfric rubbed his chin. "Sounds ambitious, my lord. But if it works…" He smirked. "I wouldn't mind retiring my bucket."

Aldric grinned. The shift had happened.

The farmers no longer looked at him with doubt. Now, they saw him as a leader who could truly change their lives.

Lucien clapped him on the back. "I have to admit, Aldric. You might actually be useful."

Aldric smirked. This was just the beginning.

If he wanted to change the kingdom, he had to start from the soil up.

Laying the Foundation for the Future.

The shift in the farmers' attitudes was undeniable. Where there had once been skepticism, now there was curiosity—and more importantly, hope. They were beginning to see that Aldric wasn't just some noble playing farmer. He had real solutions, and he was only getting started.

Once the soil was prepared and the tools were in their hands, Aldric decided to take things further.

Farming had always been a matter of tradition—methods passed down through generations. But Aldric approached it with logic, efficiency, and science. If he wanted real change, he needed to teach them not just how to farm better but why these methods worked.

Crop Rotation Strategy.

He knelt down, picking up a handful of soil, letting the loose dirt run through his fingers. "This land," he began, "is like a living thing. If you plant the same crop over and over, you drain it of life. But… what if you could heal it naturally?"

The farmers exchanged confused glances.

Aldric stood and pointed toward the fields. "Instead of always planting wheat or barley, alternate between grain crops and legumes—peas, beans, clover. These plants return nutrients to the soil instead of just taking from it."

An older farmer scratched his head. "You're sayin'… some plants can feed the dirt?"

Aldric nodded. "Exactly. If you rotate them properly, your land will never degrade. You'll get better harvests, year after year."

A few of the men murmured among themselves, considering the idea. Wulfric grunted. "Hmph. We always just let fields go barren to recover… but this way, we could keep using 'em?"

Aldric smirked. "Now you're getting it."

Next, Aldric led them toward a small pile of animal waste mixed with decomposing plant matter. Several farmers grimaced at the sight and smell.

"…You expect us to spread that filth on our crops?" one of them scoffed.

Aldric only chuckled. "That 'filth' is fertilizer—rich in nutrients that make plants grow stronger and faster." He grabbed a handful of the mixture—ignoring the disgusted looks—and sprinkled it onto a patch of soil. "Mix it into the dirt, and you'll see the difference."

Wulfric, ever the skeptic, stepped forward. "Fine. I'll try it."

He took a small handful, cringing as he spread it into the soil. "If this ruins my land, you owe me a drink, my lord."

Aldric smirked. "If it works, you owe me one." Aldric state with an expectant look.

Finally, Aldric reached into a small satchel hanging at his waist and pulled out a handful of unfamiliar grains and seeds. The golden-brown grains of rye gleamed under the sunlight, mixed with the paler oats and the rougher texture of root vegetable seeds. He let them sift through his fingers before holding them up for the farmers to see.

"These," he said, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the gathered men, "are crops from other lands. Rye, oats, hardy root vegetables—foods that can survive the cold seasons."

The reaction was immediate.

The farmers exchanged glances, some intrigued, others suspicious. A few stepped closer, peering at the seeds in his hands.

Wulfric furrowed his brow. "Never seen grains like those. Rye, you said?"

Aldric nodded. "Rye grows well in poor soil and withstands the cold far better than wheat. Even if the first frost comes early, it won't die off. And oats—" he tossed a few into Wulfric's palm—"are another resilient grain. They thrive in rougher terrain and don't exhaust the land as quickly as wheat."

Another farmer, a wiry man with a weathered face, scratched his chin. "Ain't never heard of 'em before. How do we know they'll grow here?"

Aldric smiled, expecting the doubt. "Because I've already tested them."

He gestured toward a small patch of earth near the edge of the field, where a row of seedlings had begun to sprout. The farmers moved closer, their skepticism turning into curiosity.

One of them knelt, brushing his fingers over the young plants. "These… these came from those seeds?"

Aldric nodded. "And they sprouted in half the time it takes for wheat."

The farmer blinked. "Half the time?"

"That's right." Aldric dusted off his hands. "With the right techniques, you can harvest rye and oats earlier in the year—which means more food, sooner."

A low murmur spread through the group.

"That means we could plant more before winter hits…" one of them muttered.

Another farmer, a broad-shouldered man with deep-set eyes, folded his arms. "Alright, say it grows faster. That's good and all, but what about taste? Ain't much point in faster crops if no one can stomach 'em."

Aldric chuckled. "A fair question." He reached into his bag again and pulled out a small loaf of dense, dark bread. He broke it in half, revealing its soft, hearty texture inside.

"This," he said, "is rye bread."

The farmers leaned in.

Aldric tossed a piece to Wulfric, who caught it and examined it warily before taking a cautious bite. His jaw worked slowly as he chewed, his expression unreadable.

"Well?" someone asked.

Wulfric grunted. "Dense. A bit different from wheat bread… but not bad." He took another bite.

Aldric smirked. "Rye bread is filling. It lasts longer without spoiling, and it's packed with more nutrients than plain wheat bread. Which means stronger bodies, healthier workers."

A few farmers were already nodding. The idea of bread that could keep them fuller for longer was more appealing than they had expected.

Then, Aldric picked up another seed. "These are for root vegetables—turnips, carrots, parsnips."

One of the older farmers frowned. "We don't grow those here. Root crops don't do well in our fields."

"They don't do well," Aldric corrected, "because you've never had the right soil for them."

The man huffed. "And how do you plan to fix that, my lord?"

Aldric crouched down, scooping up some of the soil in his hands. "Root vegetables need loose, well-drained soil. If we mix in compost and aerate the ground properly—" he crushed a small clump between his fingers—"we can create the perfect conditions for them to thrive."

Another farmer rubbed his chin. "If we could grow them here…"

Wulfric, who had finished his piece of rye bread, looked at Aldric sharply. "Wait—you mean… we wouldn't have to ration through winter?"

Aldric met his gaze and nodded. "Exactly. If we plant the right crops, we can prevent famine. Even in the worst winters, there will be food."

The weight of his words settled over the group.

The thought of a winter without hunger was something none of them had dared to dream of.

One of the younger farmers clenched his fists. "My grandfather told me stories about a winter so bad, half the village starved…"

A man beside him nodded grimly. "Aye… I lost a brother to hunger years ago."

Wulfric exhaled, running a hand through his beard. "If what you're sayin' is true… This could change everything."

Aldric's gaze swept across the crowd, seeing the shift in their expressions. The doubt was fading, replaced by something else.

Hope.

Lucien, standing off to the side, chuckled. "You really know how to turn a crowd, don't you?"

Aldric smirked. "It's not about turning them, Lucien. It's about showing them a better way."

He turned back to the farmers. "This is only the beginning. If we work together, we can build a future where no one goes hungry again."

The farmers nodded slowly, determination settling in their eyes.

As Aldric spoke, the skepticism gradually faded.

The farmers were practical men—they didn't trust words alone. But as they listened, they saw the logic. More importantly, they saw the results.

For the first time, Aldric wasn't just some noble playing farmer.

He was a leader—someone who could truly change their lives.

Lucien, watching from the sidelines, chuckled and shook his head.

"Remind me to never bet against you."

Aldric smirked, crossing his arms as he surveyed the land.

"Give it time, Lucien," he said. "This is only the beginning."