Volume One: The Forest Knight Chapter 29: Liano Among the Refugees

As the military organization settled into proper order, Berrion’s plan to recruit refugees yielded impressive results: in just over half a month, more than a hundred households—about four hundred people—arrived at Norland Castle, joining the labor force for land clearing, castle construction, and village building. Although only about a third were able-bodied men, the addition of these sturdy laborers greatly accelerated the pace of Norland’s development.

To attract refugees more effectively, Berrion arranged four teams, each consisting of a coachman, a cook, a loud and persuasive spokesperson, and two mercenaries for protection. These groups drove a wagon to the crossroads of the main roads surrounding Norland Castle, set up stoves, and cooked wheat porridge. Whenever the spokesperson spotted refugees passing by, he would enthusiastically introduce Norland’s hiring policies. Anyone willing to follow them was rewarded with a bowl of porridge. After a winter spent starving in ruined forest huts and city slums, few refugees could resist such temptation; many, for a taste of steaming, fragrant wheat porridge, decided to work at Norland Castle.

The Liano family was among those drawn by this opportunity. Liano, his wife Sul, their fifteen-year-old daughter Louisa, and thirteen-year-old son Dunk had fled their homeland before winter’s onset and sought shelter in Yanwickshor City. They had not wished for such upheaval, but last year’s harvest was mediocre, and their village’s lord, needing to purchase fine armor and a swift horse for his eldest son, raised taxes on tenant farmers. To avoid imprisonment and enslavement for unpaid taxes, Liano was forced to sell the five acres his family had painstakingly cultivated for two generations, along with most of the year’s harvest, to pay the levies. This left the family without enough food for the winter.

To survive the harsh season, Liano joined a local serf family and several tenant farmers from a neighboring village, embarking on a journey along Knight’s Road from the Highland Province towards Yanwickshor City. Memories of previous winters spent in warm seaside towns with family spurred them on. The journey was arduous: not only did they endure exposure and hunger, but passing through certain estates brought extortion by guards. Liano was fined fifty solis for urinating by the roadside—accused of polluting the land and causing grass to cease growing for ten paces around.

The absurdity of the charge infuriated Liano, but armed resistance was out of the question, lest his family suffer. Forced to pay, he watched nearly a third of their meager savings—three silver coins and a hundred copper coins—vanish. That was their lifeline. Afterwards, the family dared not relieve themselves near estates during the day, only in secluded spots or at night, suffering so much that they nearly wet themselves at times.

After two snowfalls, the family reached Yanwickshor City, only to find that Count Gree, the city’s lord, had forbidden entry to refugees. Since winter began, the influx had caused chaos and a surge in crime, overwhelming the city’s defense and security forces. Thus, thousands of refugees settled outside the city, where it was less cold and, near the harbor, there was some fish and shrimp to eat and the possibility of earning a bit of money as laborers at the docks.

While many families built makeshift shelters, Liano spent a dinar to rent a cargo shed by the docks for greater comfort. By day, he and Dunk worked at the docks; on good days, they earned ten solis and brought home half a pound of black bread and two salted fish. On bad days, unable to find work, they spent five solis on a pound of spoiled wheat and two carrots, cooking porridge for the family. Life was hard, but bearable.

Less than a month later, Count Gree dispatched the city defense squad to forcibly evict the refugees. During a winter hunt, the Count’s prized horse broke its leg after stepping in a hole outside the city, tossing the Count in the mud. His guards blamed the refugees for digging the hole, claiming no such hazard would exist otherwise.

Believing them, the Count ordered the defense squad to drive the refugees away. The soldiers stormed the encampment like wolves, tearing down shelters, seizing possessions, and either killing or enslaving anyone who resisted. Refugees fled in tears, their plight wretched.

Because the Liano family rented a cargo shed, the soldiers did not recognize them as refugees. They bribed the dock manager with two dinars for temporary identification, which allowed them to survive two rounds of searches and endure the harsh winter.

When spring arrived, the family was thinner, but luckier than companions who’d been driven off or imprisoned. They had little left, but enough to make their way home.

Fate intervened again: on the way back, they were robbed by bandits. Though they escaped with their lives, their grain and money bags were lost. With only eighty or ninety copper coins remaining, they could barely eat, let alone return home.

After two days of hunger and anxious travel, they encountered Norland Castle’s recruitment team. Seizing the chance, they drank a bowl of hot wheat porridge and joined other refugees, following the recruiters to Norland. Liano, a stonemason and castle builder, was assigned by Mark directly to the craftsmen’s quarter—no need for a makeshift shelter, but instead a ready-made wooden cabin. As for wages, Mark would assess Liano’s pay after seeing his work.

The Liano family felt as if they had journeyed from hell to paradise: from starvation and homelessness to a clean house, two hot meals a day, and the promise of weekly wages. Such comforts had been unimaginable before coming to Norland Castle.

Sul, Liano’s wife, touched the freshly planed table in their cabin, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Liano, this lord is truly a good man. This house is so much better than our old shelter.” Liano was deeply moved, embracing Dunk and Louisa, and said, “You two have suffered, but now we’ll work hard and earn enough to buy back our land. Then we won’t have to flee in winter again.”

Sul’s joy faded. “Alas, who knows how much it will cost to redeem those five acres? Before we fled, I heard the castle’s cook say the lord’s younger son is to be sent as a squire to the palace at Wallombrey. They’ll need a new suit of armor and a fine horse—more taxes, I fear.”

Liano bowed his head in despair. Seeing her father like this, Louisa said, “Father, I’ll work with you and Dunk. We’ll earn enough, I promise.”

Liano lovingly stroked Louisa’s head. “Silly girl, you and your mother can do simple tasks. Dunk and I will handle the heavy work. I promise, this winter we won’t have to hide in Yanwickshor City again.”

As the family alternated between hope and anxiety about the future, Berrion and Mark were inspecting the refugee quarters. Berrion divided the refugees into two camps by skill, giving priority to skilled families, hoping to keep them—Norland Castle desperately needed craftsmen. The craftsmen’s camp consisted of small wooden cabins, designed by Berrion after park cottages from his previous life. Each was built to the same standard and size; carpenters fabricated the components according to blueprints, which, once delivered, were assembled like building blocks on level ground and fastened with nails. Five or six laborers could assemble three to five cabins a day. Fifteen cabins had already been erected.

Each cabin was modest, with two bedrooms but no living room—unneeded by refugees. Furnishings were minimal: two beds and two stools made from tree stumps. This was the limit of what the workshop managed by Hama could provide, given their constant workload producing armor, weapons, and farm tools.

The ordinary refugee encampment was nearby. Mark organized workers to fence off a camp with sharp wooden stakes, two thousand paces in circumference, where refugees built their own shelters. Leftover materials from cabin construction and tree branches from land clearing were piled in the center for use.

The fence was necessary: with large numbers of newcomers, it was impossible to know if any troublemakers sent by Baron Raul were among them. Berrion instructed Mark to strictly control the camp and enforce a nighttime curfew. Norland Castle’s population was under three hundred; in two days, the refugees would number over a thousand. If trouble arose, the current military strength could not contain it. Thus, Berrion confined the refugees to a closed space, providing a buffer in case of incident.

Mark accompanied Berrion on his inspection, stopping at the Liano family’s door. Mark informed Berrion that a castle builder resided there, piquing Berrion’s curiosity; he decided to meet this medieval craftsman. Thus, as the Liano family mourned their past and worried about the future, they heard a knock at the door.

Liano released his embrace of Dunk and Louisa, went to the door, and upon seeing Mark, quickly bowed. He knew their comfortable cabin, unlike the shelters of other refugees, was thanks to the steward, who now held their fate in his hands. Liano dared not neglect him.

Mark helped Liano up and introduced him. “Liano, this is Norland Castle’s master, Court Knight, and District Inspector, Lord Berrion.”

Hearing the lord had come, Liano knelt at once. His wife and children followed suit, showing respect.

“Please stand and speak,” said Berrion, still unaccustomed to the people’s habit of kneeling at every turn.

Liano nervously rose, glancing at Mark for a cue, but Mark offered none, leaving Liano uncertain.

Seeing this, Berrion shook his head. “Perhaps you find kneeling comfortable, but I prefer standing or sitting. If you kneel, I have to look down to speak, and keeping my head lowered gives me a sore neck. For my sake, Liano, please stand when you reply.”

With a gentle jest, the family relaxed and rose. Berrion now saw Liano clearly: not tall, with short gray-brown hair, rough, stubby hands—clearly someone accustomed to hard labor.

Tur and Bran brought out the two tree-stump stools from the cabin. Berrion sat and invited Liano to join him. “I hear you’re a builder? You’ve worked on castles?”

Liano nodded. “Sir, I was once an apprentice architect. Over ten years, I helped my master design and build a dozen lordly castles and worked on watchtowers and wall repairs.”

“You’ve built so many castles—tell me, in your experience, what are your thoughts on the defensive functions of castles?” Berrion asked, as if conducting an interview.