The Abandoned Duchess Seems to Want a Peaceful Life - Chapter 47

Chapter 47: The Carriage Arrival and Thin Barley Porridge

Daggar Village was a small village of about fifty people, including the elderly and children.

They tilled the fields, paid their taxes in wheat, and earned a little cash by selling barley to ale breweries. The village’s food supply consisted of potatoes and some vegetables grown in the fields, supplemented by occasionally hunting wild game. It was a typical rural farming village.

After the potato crops failed, those who left the famine-stricken village turned to banditry and raided the manor of the neighboring lord. When the notice came that the villagers would be enslaved as serfs in retribution for their crimes, the weak, such as some elderly and very young children, had already been sent off.

The remaining workers, already suffering from food shortages, were terribly emaciated, with no one in good health left.

Even in normal times, they were barely surviving by gnawing on wild herbs, and the announcement was a hopeless blow.

The next day, emissaries from the neighboring territory would arrive. The knights of Count Dantes informed them they could not take any property other than the clothes on their backs, and they spent the night waiting for the execution of their fate.

It was considered merciful that they weren’t labeled as criminal slaves. Yet, it was obvious that they wouldn’t be treated well even as serfs.

They would be forced to walk for days to the neighboring territory, and likely half of them would die along the way.

The village head of Daggar Village even considered that it might be less cruel for the remaining children and elderly to take their own lives before being taken away.

The guards watched them sharply, as if wary of such thoughts, to prevent any reduction in the number of those to be handed over.

The next morning, a line of carts came along the narrow, unreliable path that barely deserved to be called a road. They were uncovered carts drawn by donkeys.

A woman descended gracefully from the lead cart, her pale golden hair, almost silver in the light, braided and tied up. She wore a uniform similar to that of a knight, but her appearance was that of a well-bred noblewoman.

“First, everyone should have a meal. The journey by carriage will take a full two days. Make sure to stay hydrated during this time. Breakfast is porridge, but we will assess each person’s condition and allocate them to different carts accordingly, adjusting the meal contents as needed.”

As she spoke, men from the carts began to descend one after another. They carried large pots in their hands and swiftly set up cooking stoves.

It seemed the villagers weren’t the only ones surprised by this unexpected turn of events; the soldiers guarding them, looking bewildered, approached the woman giving orders.

“Um, are you the ones who’ve come from Enkar Village to take the criminals?”

One of the guards asked.

“Yes, I’m Marie, secretary to the lord. I’ve also been appointed as the acting executor this time.”

Replied the silver-haired woman, handing over a parchment scroll to the soldiers who had been monitoring the villagers to prevent any escapes during the night. Meanwhile, water had started to boil, filling the air with a sweet and mellow aroma.

“We were told you’d be taking serfs, but those carts… It’s forbidden for serfs to take any possessions.”

The guard remarked cautiously.

“The carts are for transporting them. Of course, they will be taken with nothing but the clothes on their backs.”

Marie explained calmly.

“Carriages for serfs… I see.”

Muttered the guard.

“It’s all according to the lord’s wishes. Is there a problem?”

“No, my apologies.”

With that clarification, there was no contradiction with their orders. Despite being implicated as criminals, if the villagers were not to be treated roughly, that was something to be grateful for.

“If you’d like, would you join us for breakfast as well? By the lord’s command, the first meal is thin porridge, so it may not be very filling.”

Marie offered.

The soldiers exchanged glances and swallowed nervously.

Knights and soldiers employed by the lord were provided meals in their barracks. Though white bread was a rarity, they received enough: dark bread, meat soup, fruits, and diluted ale, ensuring they never went hungry.

However, with potatoes in near devastation, other crops were also fiercely competed for, leading to a general rise in food prices. Bread became sparse, ale thinner, and both meat and vegetables in the soup were reduced.

For soldiers enduring rigorous training to maintain military strength even outside of emergencies, it was an exceptionally tough situation.

There’s no rule against soldiers eating elsewhere, but right now, they were on duty.

However, after staying up all night on watch duty, returning to the barracks to report might mean missing breakfast in the mess hall.

With night shifts, once the report was done, the day was theirs, but going to bed with an empty stomach amid already meager meals was particularly disheartening.

“If you don’t mind, may we join you?”

“Yes, please think of it as a gesture to warm yourselves rather than a full meal.”

Marie replied with a smile that lifted spirits just by itself. The rugged men cooking seemed typical settlers, yet the thought crossed some minds if this beautiful woman might serve them herself.

“Everyone, be careful not to burn your mouths with the hot food. It’s a phrase the lord often says, but it’s not good to eat quickly when hungry. Take your time.”

She advised.

The barley porridge served was indeed very thin, drinkable almost like a broth. The salt was slightly strong, and the accompanying tea was refreshing.

“Not exactly gourmet, but it warms you up.”

“Yeah, it’s soothing.”

Gradually, warmth returned to their chilled bodies. Heeding the advice to slowly enjoy the porridge, they soon felt their hunger easing after having second and third helpings as suggested.

Suddenly, a soldier glanced toward the devastated villagers. Each one was hurriedly drinking, but they were reminded to take it slowly—sip by sip, they savored every drop.

“…My grandpa once told me a story. He was a mercenary back then when churches and temples didn’t wield as much influence. Occasionally, there were wars between territories, and he was hired by the attacking side during a siege. Around the time when most of the lower class in the city starved to death, they surrendered. The employer at the time showed mercy and offered food to the non-combatants.”

The soldier recounted.

“What a kind employer.”

“Yeah, but the survivors who received food ended up dying one by one as they ate, like they were cursed. Grandpa said it was a terrifying sight.”

“Maybe… they were just too weakened, and let their guard down?”

“That’s what my grandpa said, but in the end, they never really understood the cause,” he mused, peering into his wooden cup.

The thin, watery porridge. Despite its humble appearance, merely providing a meal to serfs could already mark the lord as merciful.

—What if this wasn’t about scrimping on food for the serfs, but rather a wish for the villagers, who must already be at their limits, to survive?

After finishing the meal, they were told not to help with cleanup but to rest for a while. The woman who came to fetch them and her attendants briskly finished tidying up.

“We’ll take custody of them now. Thank you for your service.”

Marie said.

“Safe travels to you as well.”

The fair-haired woman smiled gently, confirming that all the serfs were aboard the carts before climbing into the same one herself.

Watching the procession of carts heading towards the neighboring domain, the soldier sighed deeply.

Those foolish villagers who turned to thievery after being taxed, along with their families… No matter how one imagined it, their future seemed destined to be more brutal than that of slaves.

Yet, under the lord who provided that thin porridge, perhaps a different fate awaited them.

With no real basis for it, the soldier thought so, squinting against the brightness of the morning sun.