Noren’s Burden and the Duke’s Dilemma

To effectively manage the influx of two hundred laborers, Noren implemented a simple grouping system.

Tasks such as logging, transportation, land reclamation, construction, fishing, and cooking were divided into several work groups. Each group comprised fewer than ten individuals, with the least foolish among them selected as the group leader.

Why ten people? Simple farmers could barely manage a team larger than that.

Consequently, Noren found herself directly overseeing at least twenty individuals daily, in addition to monitoring their progress. She felt a weariness settling deep in her bones.

The most troublesome task, material allocation, she delegated to Freya. Despite her youth, Freya possessed an excellent memory, allowing her to keep track of everyone who came to collect supplies.

As for the kitten Freya longed for, Noren had paid a hunter sixty silver coins during her previous trip to Hradec, commissioning him to capture a few well-bred felines.

The hunter, seeing the generous payment, exclaimed, “Wow, that’s a lot of money!” He immediately ventured into the forest, not only retrieving a litter of adorable kittens but also catching a pregnant mother cat. It seemed that good money truly ensured swift service.

With a growing population came an abundance of new problems.

First was the issue of housing. To avoid conflict with the village’s original inhabitants, new homes were constructed on the opposite bank of the river. She also built a warehouse there, making it convenient to access supplies.

Land reclamation also began on the far side of the river. This preparatory work involved felling trees, extracting roots, clearing stones from the soil, and even burning the surface layer.

While it sounded simple, directing the process was not overly complex. As long as logging, root removal, and cultivation proceeded in an orderly fashion, chaos could be averted.

For instance, if there were twelve groups assigned to reclamation, they would first concentrate their efforts to clear trees from one designated area.

Next, six of those groups would move to a second area, half the size of the first, to continue felling trees. The remaining six groups would then begin the arduous task of removing tree roots, using both horses and manual labor.

By the time the roots were cleared from the first area, the second area would be fully logged. The logging groups would then advance to a third area, while the root-clearing groups would tackle the second area.

This sequential approach would continue until enough farmland was cultivated to meet the food demands of two hundred people.

Once all initial work was completed, the next challenge would be land allocation—a truly troublesome affair.

Noren intended to distribute fertile plots to those who performed well during the reclamation and poorer land to the lazy laggards. Families with more members would receive larger allocations, while smaller families would get less.

The same principle would apply to housing distribution.

The difficulty lay in precisely recording everyone’s performance.

Attendance tracking? Far too advanced for the era.

Monitoring each individual? That was beyond her capacity; she simply lacked the energy.

‘Emmm… I’ll consider the group leaders’ opinions first,’ she mused. ‘Then, I’ll recall if I have any personal impressions of the individual. A good impression earns a better plot, a bad impression a worse one. If I have no impression, I’ll defer to the group leader’s judgment.’

‘Should a group leader’s opinion diverge significantly from my own, I’ll hang them up and give them a good thrashing before discussing further,’ she decided. ‘That will prevent these commoners from thinking I’m easily fooled!’

“There’s another troublesome matter,” Noren remarked, watching the constant flow of people. She rubbed her temples. “The roads are once again littered with waste. We absolutely must construct latrines and outhouses.”

“I explicitly laid down the rules: no relieving yourselves indiscriminately! No relieving yourselves indiscriminately!

These damnable brutes, do they think that since their droppings bear no name, I won’t know who’s responsible?

I need to establish a ‘dung collector’ position. They’ll be responsible for overseeing the village’s sanitation issues and can report to me at any time…

Uh… no, on second thought, don’t report to me. That feels far too unsanitary.

They can report to the guards instead. For every person caught relieving themselves in public, the dung collector will receive a one-silver-coin reward. If the dung collector colludes with the guards and the accused to swindle the reward, all involved will be hung up to dry for three days, receiving only water during that time.”

Noren listened to the rhythmic *clang* of axe blades striking tree trunks. The sounds, rising and falling in succession, were surprisingly pleasant. The laborers either worked in silence or chanted “Heave-ho, heave-ho” in unison.

A strange sense of pleasure welled within her.

‘What is this feeling?’ she wondered. ‘Watching these people clear land and cultivate for me—it’s incredibly satisfying! This must be the awakening of my ancestral Chinese genes!’

Noren then walked to the riverbank, where several small boats bobbed in the current.

The fishermen cast their nets and reeled them in. The tributary of the Oder River was rich in aquatic life; a single net could yield a considerable catch of fish, shrimp, crabs, clams, and eels. Should a massive sturgeon migration occur, the entire village would likely have no shortage of fish.

She moved closer to the warehouse, where a temporary kitchen had been set up—merely a canvas tarp providing shelter. Here, barley porridge was being cooked, its main ingredients being barley, rye, and various beans, perhaps supplemented with vegetables like cabbage and turnips.

Observing a cook scraping powdered rock salt into an earthenware pot, Noren frowned.

‘With more people, the demand for salt is growing rapidly,’ she thought. ‘It seems I’ll need to buy a batch of salt from my uncle.’

‘It’s a pity we’re not near the sea, or I could at least procure some sea salt. What kind of salt did I eat in my past life? Can river water be used to make salt? I think it was iodized salt?

But I’ve never seen anyone in Opava with a goiter.’

Noren touched her neck. It was smooth and slender, her fingertips cool and comfortable against her skin. ‘Damn, I’ve made myself comfortable again. When was the last time? Three days ago? Tomorrow is bathing day; I’ll try the high-frequency vibrations of the Moon Bloom technique then.’

‘Not today,’ she decided. ‘I’m mentally exhausted. Tomorrow, I will definitely practice my Flower Plucking Finger technique diligently. Definitely!’

****

Prague Castle, The Duke’s Council Hall

“Your Grace, this is the court’s expenses for the month.”

“Your Grace, the army’s maintenance fees…”

“Your Grace, the Emperor’s envoy has been settled. Would you like to…”

“Your Grace, the Church festival this year requires your…”

“Your Grace…”

“Your Grace?”

“Your Grace!”

“Brother!”

The man on the throne suddenly opened his eyes. He wore a golden crown, his arm propped on the armrest, supporting his head. He had been sleeping.

The Duke of Bohemia recognized the newcomer. “Oh, it’s you, Jaromir. What is it?”

Jaromir stood at the foot of the steps, clad in a bishop’s cassock and wearing a bishop’s miter, gleaming brightly. He asked, “Brother, could you lend me some soldiers? A rebellion has broken out in Opava, and I need troops to suppress it.”

The Duke of Bohemia wore jeweled rings on every finger. His index finger *tapped, tapped, tapped* against the armrest, the sound echoing through the vast hall.

After a prolonged silence, he spoke, “Do you recall what happened to the previous Duke?”

Jaromir looked him directly in the eye. “He was our elder brother. How could I forget?”

The Duke of Bohemia nodded. “It’s good that you remember. When our elder brother inherited Bohemia, we, his younger brothers, went to Moravia. Our elder brother was truly merciless, killing three hundred Moravian landlords and gentry just to drive me out of the duchy.”

“As a Duke, a leader of a nation, our elder brother was too heartless,” Jaromir stated. “That is why he died. It was God’s will.”

The Duke of Bohemia smiled, neither confirming nor denying. “And so I returned to inherit the title, did I not?”

With that, His Grace stood up, stretching his limbs with distinct *cracks* and *pops*.

The Duke walked over to Jaromir, placing a large hand on his shoulder.

Jaromir, up close, could clearly see his second-eldest brother. Wratislaw’s gaze was like a torch, his figure tall and upright, brimming with vitality. His face was well-preserved, showing no signs of premature aging for a man of thirty-six.

“Jaromir,” he said with concern, “I do not possess the ruthless heart of our elder brother, as you know. I have always cherished you, my younger brothers, and I have always honored our father’s will. Moravia was divided among my brothers as fiefdoms, and now a rebellion has erupted in your fief…”

“Here’s what I’ll do: I will give you one hundred light infantry and fifty archers. The arrows… you will have to procure yourself.

I am currently facing an imminent attack from the Duke of Meissen, and the Imperial Council has yet to reach a decision. I must make thorough preparations for war and simply do not have any surplus troops to spare for you. Are these soldiers sufficient?

If not, I will recruit mercenary companies from Austria and Bavaria to assist you.”

Jaromir was speechless inwardly. ‘You have at least four to five thousand troops at your disposal; you call this ‘cherishing’?’

He forced a smile. “Yes, yes, that will be enough.”

“Excellent,” the Duke of Bohemia said, patting his shoulder three times with such force that Jaromir’s knees buckled. “Opava is a crucial border stronghold; you absolutely cannot afford to lose it!”

With that, the Duke strode out of the hall, leaving Jaromir alone in silence.

After a long moment, Jaromir muttered a curse under his breath and then departed the hall as well.