Chapter 51 Earning Trust

On the soil of Boulogne, warm sunlight bathed the ancient stone-paved road.

Roberto, a newcomer and a kind-hearted Florentine, stood beside Ritsarit, a trace of reluctance and inner conflict flickering in his gaze.

As a Florentine, Roberto was not yet fully accustomed to the feudal laws and customs here. Hearing this, he furrowed his brow slightly and gently waved his hand.

"Lord Ritsarit, there is no need to coerce them. Those who are willing to return and rebuild their homes may simply live as they did before.

As for those who are unwilling, I am willing to grant them their freedom. I do not wish to see them toil in misery and resentment; they have already suffered enough."

Hearing this from the side, Carlo felt alarm bells ring instantly in his heart. He thought to himself:

"What is to be done now? In this era, serfs are practically the lifeblood of the nobility and the very foundation of all development.

If Roberto truly lets all the serfs go, what hope will this domain have left? Without anyone to labor diligently for him, how can I ever achieve my grand ambition of becoming a noble young master?

Yet, on the other hand, one cannot completely disregard the feelings of the serfs, for only when they labor of their own free will can they possess genuine enthusiasm."

At the same time, he understood that the sentiments of the peasants could not be entirely ignored, as only those who labored willingly would show true dedication.

With this thought, Carlo hurried forward and spoke respectfully to Ritsarit:

"Lord Ritsarit, in my view, it is best not to resort to overly heavy-handed measures at the very beginning.

After all, the villagers of Gest do not know the first thing about Lord Roberto. If we forcibly drag them all back, I fear it will provoke widespread resentment.

Who knows, someone might even sabotage the domain in secret, and the consequences of that would be too unimaginably disastrous to contemplate.

For instance, someone secretly pissing in the well—that would be utterly wretched!"

Then, Carlo turned to look at Roberto with a sincere and earnest gaze, took a deep breath, and spoke in a low, persuasive tone:

"Roberto, as a knight, the honor of knighthood is not merely embodied in battlefield valor, but even more so in the careful protection of your serfs.

You cannot simply abandon them just because of their temporary misunderstanding.

Do you know? Once those peasants are driven from the land, they will become like rootless duckweed in the cities, forced to drift aimlessly about.

What awaits them is endless displacement and unbearable suffering.

How can we, possessing the ability to shield them, stand idly by and watch them march toward the abyss of destruction?"

Hearing this, Roberto and Ritsarit could not help but nod successively, their eyes filled with agreement.

Standing to one side, Nikolai observed the scene with a heart full of bewilderment and secret astonishment that two knights would actually heed the words of a mere squire.

Yet everything Carlo said was undeniably reasonable, and inwardly he concurred:

"What Carlo says is entirely correct! If peasants cannot make a living from the land and instead have to go work in the city, that life is far more agonizing than enduring the fires of hell."

After a moment of contemplation, Carlo spoke again:

"The villagers of Gest have merely suffered some economic losses. Are we truly short of money right now?

Other nobles might begrudge spending such a small sum, but we cannot afford to ignore it! Let us simply cover the losses ourselves.

To say nothing of Gest Village, even if the villagers of Surl suffer losses, we shall compensate them just the same!

Only by making the serfs return to their work willingly can our domain flourish and prosper."

Roberto and Ritsarit nodded heavily once more, resolute determination shining in their eyes.

Nikolai was utterly astonished; he had never expected that both knights would defer to the arrangements of a young squire. Rolling his eyes, he quickly stepped forward and raised his voice:

"The Bohemian army has truly wreaked havoc on me this time! They carted away every single bit of my grain, and that was worth a full one hundred silver pennies!"

Carlo looked at Ritsarit, the corners of his mouth lifting into a confident, slight smile:

"My lord, then let us give him two gold coins first. Whatever exceeds his loss can be regarded as his reward.

Tell him to gather the villagers from both villages as quickly as possible. We must return to develop the domain posthaste; time is pressing and brooks no delay!"

Ritsarit nodded, reached unhesitatingly into his purse, drew out two gold coins, and handed them to Nikolai.

Nikolai's eyes instantly lit up with surprise and delight, though he feigned modesty with his words:

"My lord, this... how could I possibly accept this?"

Yet his hands moved with swift and powerful agility to tightly clutch the gold coins, while he mused inwardly:

"This squire is truly no ordinary person! It seems I must hold tight to his coattails from now on."

Luke Griffith and Charles watched his every move from the side. Although they could not guess his true thoughts, they chimed in to humor him:

"Right, right! You certainly look like you can accept it!"

Surl Village was somewhat smaller than Gest Village. Counting men, women, and children, the two villages together totaled about one hundred and eighty people.

Though the two villages lay within a stone's throw of the city of Calais, terror hung over the villagers like a dark cloud, leaving them too afraid to return home and forcing them to cobble together crude hovels near the outskirts of Calais for temporary shelter.

The shanty area was a scene of utter chaos. The makeshift huts cobbled together from branches, rags, and mud teetered precariously in the cold wind, looking as though they might collapse at any moment.

The ground was thick with mud and debris, emitting a pungent, unpleasant odor.

Led by Nikolai, Carlo and his party stepped into this impoverished and suffering shanty town.

Nikolai soon located a red-haired middle-aged man, and the two began conversing in a slightly open space.

Nikolai frowned deeply, gesturing emphatically as he attempted to explain something to the man.

The red-haired man crossed his arms over his chest with a skeptical expression, raising his voice from time to time in rebuttal while casting wary yet defiant glances toward the knights not far away.

Appearing somewhat helpless, Nikolai gritted his teeth, carefully drew a gold coin from his tunic, waved it before the red-haired man's eyes, and uttered a few hurried words in a lowered voice.

The man's eyes widened instantly, surprise washing over his face, before he and Nikolai walked toward Carlo and the others.

Nikolai spoke respectfully:

"My lords, this is Gervais, the village elder of Gest. I have already explained everything to him."

Gervais was profoundly agitated, his lips trembling slightly as a glimmer of anticipation shone in his eyes, prompting him to ask eagerly:

"My lords, is everything you said true? Will the losses of Gest Village truly be compensated?"

Ritsarit frowned slightly, his expression stern and cold as he instantly reclaimed his freezing, majestic demeanor, speaking in a solemn tone:

"Gervais, do not question the word of the nobility; it is sacred and inviolable."

Unintimidated by Ritsarit's imposing aura, Gervais stepped forward and said loudly:

"My lord, we have heard the promises of nobles far too often, but what was the result? Take my fine plow horse, for instance—it was dragged away!

That horse was worth three gold coins alone! If you can compensate me right now, I will believe you and guarantee to bring all the villagers of Gest back."

Carlo glanced at Roberto, nodded slightly, and said to him:

"Cousin, give him five gold coins. Three to compensate for his horse, one for him to buy food for the villagers, and the remaining one as his reward.

We must let them see our sincerity."

Without hesitation, Roberto drew five gold coins from his pouch and handed them to Gervais, his gaze brimming with sincerity and kindness.

Gervais was stunned with a mixture of shock and joy, his eyes wide as saucers. He could hardly believe his own sight, wondering inwardly:

What generous high noble is this? Hastily accepting the coins, he dropped to one knee and expressed his boundless gratitude tearfully:

"Thank you, Lord Roberto! Thank you so much! Might I ask the noble benefactor's name?"

He looked toward Carlo, his eyes full of curiosity.

Carlo smiled and replied:

"Think nothing of it. I am Lord Ritsarit's knightly squire; my name is Carlo."

Taken aback, Gervais rose to his feet in astonishment:

"A knightly squire? Lord Carlo, you are truly extraordinary to be able to make Lord Roberto listen to you."