Sending Sheep

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Barony of Arkford, northwest by seventeen degrees and thirty-five kilometers from Aikley Village: Floran Village.

The sun’s rays were gradually fading. During the summer labor season, the roads, trampled ceaselessly by people and livestock, became ever muddier, making it increasingly difficult to find firm ground.

Compared to the majority of rough and impatient peasants in the village, Alvis Antoine, whose family had been cowherds for generations, and his son Dean Antoine, could be considered somewhat cultivated. When they were just a dozen steps away from the lord’s residence, they stopped, standing properly where people of their class belonged, careful not to trespass on forbidden ground.

Because of this, Bayard Baron, the steward of Floran Village, after finishing a dinner that would be unimaginable for the villagers—two full bowls of porridge and three eggs—stood up mercifully, foregoing his usual cup of black beer, which had not yet soured.

“My lord.”

“My lord.”

As the steward appeared at the doorway, Alvis and his son Dean hurriedly removed their hoods and bowed deeply.

“Hmm, get up…” The steward frowned at the father and son’s mud-caked wooden shoes, then slowly walked to the side of the road. “Alvis, you’ve been waiting a long time… The moment the messenger arrived in the village, you came looking for me. Watching so closely—what, are you afraid you’ll lose the sheep you brought a few days ago?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t dare… Everyone in the village knows the lord never cheats anyone…” Alvis looked up, the flattery on his face showing a hint of sincerity.

As he spoke, Alvis tugged hard on the rope, causing the two goats to bleat in protest. “I just hoped to bring these other two animals over sooner. You know, my lord, every extra day they stay means another day’s worth of fodder.”

“Hahaha…” The steward laughed. “All right, all right, Alvis, you sly miser, you don’t have to be so cautious guessing my meaning! I’ve already discussed your matter with the estate overseer. The lord knows! Your son…”

At this, Bayard Baron turned and looked at the cowherd’s eldest son. “Your son, young Dean! When the brightest star disappears from the sky tomorrow, lucky Dean may go to Aikley Village.”

“Ah…” This time, the joy on Alvis’s face was utterly genuine. He slapped his son’s back with his rough palm. “Thank you so much! Quick, thank the steward!”

“Hmm, that’s enough…” Waving off their repeated bows of gratitude, Bayard suddenly sighed, pointing at the two goats Alvis held. “You two take these goats back for now.”

“Ah… how can that be! This… this is our family’s token of gratitude! My lord, you must accept it!”

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“Hey, don’t flatter yourself! I never said I wouldn’t accept them!”

Bayard sighed again. “…Ah, Alvis, cunning Alvis, stingy Alvis, this time I truly fell for your scheme!”

“Do you know how many people approached the estate overseer for this helper job in Aikley Village? Thirteen villages! All thirteen! I know you can’t count, so let me tell you—the entire domain of Lord Arkford, every single village, wanted to send their cowherd to work for Los Mall!”

“Ah…” Alvis stared, dumbfounded.

“What are your two goats worth?” Bayard sneered. “For the helper job—or rather, for the chance to learn cattle-handling skills—Dalsay Village somehow came up with three jars of honey, and Bazel Village was even willing to offer a cow!”

“Ah…” Alvis’s eyes widened even further.

“Fortunately, Lord Barias—the estate overseer—is fair. He knows I never lie, and he knows your family’s skill with livestock is truly good. Young Dean is lucky this time! You’ll get to go, but…”

Bayard pointed again at the goats. “The overseer is fair because he is merciful! But we can’t just pretend we know nothing. Take these two goats back for now… Wait until the autumn tithe, then bring them together to the estate overseer’s house… And my two remaining goats, let them stay with you for now as well, so you won’t keep coveting my pasture!”

“Ah…”

“Hmm… Alvis, you don’t look too happy about that…”

“No, no, I’m very willing! As willing as the blazing sun at noon! Don’t worry, my lord, I’ll make sure your goats and the overseer’s goats are well-fed every day!”

“Hmm… Alvis, do your work well. I told the overseer you’re diligent… Dean, you must work hard too. When you reach Aikley Village, listen to Los Mall. All of Floran Village is counting on you…”

“Yes, my lord, thank you. I’ll do as you say.” Alvis hurriedly bowed with his son in thanks.

“Hmm… That will be all then.” Bayard waved his hand, graciously dismissing the peasants to their own affairs.

“Thank you, my lord.” Pulling his son and leading the goats, Alvis bowed deeply once more. Only when they had walked far away did they put their hoods back on.

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———

The sun had completely sunk behind the mountains, and a thick night shroud covered the land. The steward’s grand house was now far behind them.

“The steward’s two goats, the overseer’s two goats, and the two we already sent over these past days—now that so many livestock are gone, we’ll have much less cheese this winter,” Dean said suddenly as they crossed the creek on a log.

“Mm.” His father nodded vaguely in response.

“There are still several days left in the summer labor; the autumn work will be heavy too. If I leave, all those chores will be even harder.” As they passed Old Cole’s plot, Dean spoke again.

“Mm.” His father nodded again with the same vague response.

“The wasteland on the hill hasn’t been leveled, the ditch at our door is badly silted… Father, there’s still so much work you gave me left to do…” When they passed the carpenter’s house, skirting some stubborn brambles, Dean voiced a new concern.

“Mm.” His father nodded again.

“Does it really have to be this way?” Their own house was just visible in the distance, and pressed for time, Dean abandoned his roundabout approach. “Father, I don’t understand… Why must I go to Aikley Village? Is there any real benefit to being a helper? The little wheat we’ll save, I could easily earn back over the summer…”

This time, his father didn’t even give a “mm” in reply.

They walked on in silence for a long while more, passing the long ridges of their own field and stopping at the fork leading home. Suddenly, his father spoke. “This is the second time I’ve delivered goats to the steward…”

“Hmm?” Dean had never heard of this.

“The first time I delivered goats…” His father stopped, looking his son up and down. “I was about your age then.”