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A Broken World [Rewrite] - Chapter Nine - A Negotiable World
🕑 Added 2019-05-07 08:31:53 +0000 UTC
That question certainly got a reaction, Lucas thought to himself as he watched Terrasin smooth her dress in an attempt to hide her surprise. Versi, likewise, did a decent job of it- thought apparently the shock had been to big for either of them to fully suppress the signs of it. Moru’s jaw had dropped enough that Lucas felt the young man could have swallowed his own fist without touching his lips. So apparently, this was a rather large surprise- far more than Lucas had anticipated.
“Well, it seems that was not a question you expected,” Lucas could only wonder why they hadn’t. Perhaps they thought he would be moved out of a sense of duty or pity? But Lucas certainly did not feel those emotions, mostly just barely suppressed anger and fear. “And I have to admit I am surprised at the level of your surprise. You are, effectively, asking for a service, and like any other service I should expect recompense, no?”
That last question hung in the air along with the rattling of the carriage for a time while the trio with Lucas seemed to collect their thoughts. It was Terrasin who answered, rather haltingly and carefully.
“No other Hero has ever asked for something like that.” She briefly met Lucas’s eyes and then looked away and out the window. “It is not that we are against the idea- indeed, whatever you want or need will be provided as best we can, Lord Hero- but to demand it like that is… Unheard of.”
Ah, so it was a cultural thing, Lucas realised. Likely, there were some sort of cues he had missed or traditions he was unaware of that made the subject of payment- in whatever form- implicit in them asking him to be a Hero. He was probably quite offensive just then, even if he had not intended to be. But Lucas was not particularly bothered by their sense of propriety; there was a reason that important deals had contracts with clearly defined terms agreed up by parties that understood them, and Lucas was not about to trust a half-promise that he would be repaid.
“From what you have told me,” Lucas replied, deciding that he might as well chase the point aggressively. “There have only been two heroes before me. Although I am unsure how your abduction spell works, I doubt even they had the same personality. I, for one, am not a fan of leaving things ill-defined; I would very much like an explanation of what, as precisely as you are able to say, you want from me and what I should expect in return for doing so. And then, I presume you have some sort of legal device like a contract that can be written up to guarantee that you will meet your side of whatever we end up agreeing on, because I simply do not trust a verbal promise that can be very easily “forgotten” if it becomes convenient to do so.”
Lucas frowned then, a little unsettled by his own words. “Actually, allow me to apologise.” He spoke again before any of the three could interject, “While technically true, I phrased that poorly and rather rudely- which was not my intention. I am honestly unsure what came over me.”
After all, what sense did it make to insult or offend the people who were on the other side of the metaphorical table? Lucas chalked his current mood up to having been brought into a different world and stabbed in the arm by a monster, not to mention being chased down by a human/spider hybrid not that long ago, and put it out of his mind. Perhaps it would be better to shift the topic back to what he could do for now.
“While it would be, perhaps, best to keep in mind I would like recompense commensurate with the work I do, it might be best if we discuss what I will be doing first.” Lucas, looked from one of the young nobles to the next, meeting their eyes in turn. “So the first thing I need to do is understand where I will be working- you would not have a pen and paper by any chance, would you?”
They did not, in fact, have a pen and paper. Lucas, of course, only remembered that the ball point pen had been invented when mankind was going into space; medieval writing implements were horrendously crude at best by comparison, and what he was writing on was not any better. He was used to taking notes, to jotting down thoughts and important bits of information to help him organise his thoughts. This was hardly going to be a simple job, even leaving aside the risk of getting eaten by some demon monster, and Lucas was not about to entrust it all to memory.
What they did have, though not much of, was stylus, parchment, and ink. Or, in less fanciful terms, a pointy bit of metal, some leather, and some dark water. Trying to write on it quickly made Lucas feel that the low literacy rates of medieval Europe were quite understandable. Learning to read and write with tools like this would be painful, he thought as he grimaced as the ink spread badly more often than not. Still, it was better than nothing and Lucas was taking quite a few notes despite his displeasure with the materials he had to use. He would use this journey to learn what he needed to hit the ground running when they reached their destination, and hopefully he would have some assurances for himself by then as well.
Lucas started by asking them about their farming methods, and was unsurprised that the well-to-do rich kids had very little knowledge about the subject. It was frustrating, but also easily remedied with the input of their soldier escorts who had been drawn from the general population. A few had been farmers, and with what amounted to an interrogation by Lucas, he had a rough idea of what farming in this world entailed.
The nobles had been able to help him get an understanding of the large scale, which was to say that a lot of the islands floating about were not very good for farming for one reason or another. Either there would be a scarcity of water, poor soil, or an odd microclimate on many, if not most, of the land that made up human territory. Lucas rather thought that all of those were surmountable problems with proper cultivation and infrastructure, but it would be far less costly to start with what already existed first.
In that regard, the former farmers- now soldiers- were able to help quite a bit in giving Lucas an understanding of what farming was like in Francea. In a couple of words, not good. They were worse off than underfunded refugee camps from Lucas’s world in a lot of ways. In Lucas’s world, going back through history, it was not so much that agricultural technology did not exist somewhere, but that each culture and civilization developed one or two advances each. However, they only exhibited their most potent effects when all of these advances were used together. Perhaps the best example of this was the seed drill, a device used to plant seeds without relying on throwing the seeds on the ground or digging individual holes. It was invented by the Babylonians, somewhere around 1400 BCE and was also developed in Ancient China and used for thousands of years.
Europe did not see this revolutionary piece of farming technology until 1600’s, and Francea lacked it entirely. Which Lucas found mildly amusing given the similarity in sound between Francea and France, although if he recalled correctly the first European seed drill had actually been Italian and it had been the British who had really improved the design, so France really had nothing to do with it.
“And that is hardly all,” Lucas explained to his traveling companions as they left the first waystation two days later. The morning sun appeared to give the golden plains a glow, it was a very beautiful sight that Lucas was ignoring in favor of discussing his findings from conversations the night before. “From what I have learned there is a great deal I can do to improve your country’s agriculture. Your understanding of crop rotation is non-existent, your ploughs are archaic, you lack a real understanding of animal husbandry, and you hardly use fertilizer. To be honest, I am rather amazed you have not all starved to death considering what you told me about the amount of farmable land yesterday and the day before.”
“We have had constant famine for hundreds of years,” Terrasin admitted gravely. Lucas briefly felt pity and sadness that such a young woman ever felt the need to use such a tone or even discuss such a matter, it would certainly be depressing if he let himself think about it too much. “It is crass to say as much, but if we were not constantly losing soldiers against the Demons starvation would likely have driven the population to unrest by this point.”
“I am amazed they haven’t anyway,” Lucas agreed. “I suppose having a common and intractable enemy does wonders for unifying the population; silver linings and small mercies, i suppose.”
Of course, Lucas had to explain the last two idioms he had used, but he got the point across eventually. More importantly, this society seemed stuck in a technological rut roughly where Europe would have been before the second agricultural revolution. Lucas was not a sociologist, but upon reflection the reason for this was fairly obvious- it was the same reason the constant hunger that gnawed at the population did not drive them to rebellion. The demons they fought had to be resisted, and the human armies needed to be fed. Crop rotation had never been developed because, ironically, they were too busy trying to get the most food they could out of the land they had rather than planting for taste or market appeal.
The constant drain of talent due to the fighting- as well as the constant malnutrition- bled out the best and brightest who might have invented the swing plough or seed drill. Not to mention that the need for metal and people who could work metal demanded by the front meant that no one in their right mind would make a plough out of iron, never mind steel. Overall, the lack of land for grazing and difficulty of transportation through the Skyrivers meant that cattle had never been a large part of any countries farms, and so the science behind selective breeding was unexplored.
“This will take years, maybe decades, to implement,” Lucas noted, as he began to explain himself to Terrasin, Versi, and Moru- the last of which he had finally gotten to stop calling him Lord. “And admittedly, it is hard to make any concrete estimates regarding yields with any real assumption of accuracy. But with a few changes in practices and the spread of the technologies I mentioned, there would certainly be at least a doubling of your yields. That is a low guess though, it could honestly go up to something like twelve times.”
“Really?” Versi was smiling widely, and Lucas was wondering how her teeth could be so straight without dentistry as she excitedly bounced in her seat. It was a rather out of character display of childishness, and a clear indication that the woman was overjoyed to hear what Lucas said. “That is incredible! And this would come with a reduction in the amount of labor required to farm? It is a miracle!”
“Woah there,” Lucas hated to burst her bubble, but it was best to not let imagination get out of hand. Reality was not kind when it broke people’s dreams after all. “I am making this sound far easier than it is. For one thing, the sweeping changes regarding how the farmers will be working requires education and oversight; the effects will not even be felt for at least four years, probably more along the lines of ten. Not to mention that I will be having to replicate technology I never specifically studied from memory which then has to be spread as well. Considering that I probably cannot push you into the industrial revolution by myself- at least, not without a lot of help- the production of those technologies will be painfully slow.”
Lucas looked at his notes, frowning at the poor handwriting caused by having to use a stylus and parchment in the first place, and then shook his head with a sigh. “This is no miracle,” he said quietly, his own lack of belief spilling to the surface for a moment. “It is a plan that can only come to fruition through a combination of hard work and assistance from the nobility. Versi, Moru- I will be relying on the two of you to help sell this in Lyus. Terrasin, your help will be invaluable beyond the city’s borders.”
“Indeed, I will do my absolute best,” Terrasin was prim and proper beside the still excited Versi, giving a graceful nod in agreement with Lucas’s statement. “Though I do have to mirror Lady Versi’s sentiment. You seem to be almost a direct answer to my prayers; the hunger of the population weighed heavily on me, as it does on most of the nobility.”
“There were a great deal of people better suited to this task than me,” Lucas waved the praise away, uncomfortable with the religious undertones. “And although it is selfish to say, I would rather them be here instead of me!”
Moru took an opportunity to change the subject, and Lucas was grateful to him for that. His mood was still noticeably unstable, and Lucas was honestly unsure if something was wrong with him. He had a right to be angry, sure, and now that his fear was fading the anger was coming to the fore. But over the past few days his bursts of anger had been more common than not, though he had contained most of them within himself.
“To answer your question, Moru,” Lucas barely managed to hear the man’s question about medicine due to his distraction. “It is much as I thought it would be. The knowledge your healer’s have regarding setting bones and the like is fine, but that is about it. Unfortunately, there is very little I can do besides set them on the right path by telling them where they are wrong now. I know a bit about plants that have medicinal value, but I would really need to see what you actually have to be able to determine what might be useful or not. Listing off plants that people can remember one by one is just going to take a lot of time and more patience than I have. Honestly, I will likely have to rebuild a lot of medical knowledge from scratch. My knowledge of biology and the scientific method will give me a head start, but it is unlikely that I will be able to really make a dent in what you need.”
Lucas was hardly Florence Nightingale, though he certainly would spread sanitation wherever he could. He doubted he could achieve the deservedly famous woman’s success in this world, not by himself at least. In fact, that last part stuck in Lucas’s thoughts. What he needed, what he did not have, was people. Essentially, what he needed was a corps of paraprofessionals. Assistants who could aid him in implementing and spreading this knowledge, and ensuring that plans were followed.
The question was how to go about obtaining a group like that. Or more accurately, how to make them. It was something that Lucas would have to give much thought to, but Terrasin brought up another topic that Lucas would give his attention to first.
“Lucas,” she began hesitantly. “A couple of days ago, you asked how we might repay you for your service, and after giving it some thought I agree that having it clearly defined would probably be for the best- but no one here really has the authority to negotiate on that level, honestly I am not sure anyone does…”
“Hey now,” Lucas said with eyebrows raised. “Exactly what do you think I am going to demand? You make it sound like you expect me to ask for a kingdom or something. To clarify, I am not interested in anything like that. What I want, boiled down to its most basic form, is an assurance that I will not be thrown in a dungeon randomly and the means to live at the level you three do. The only thing above that that I want would be the resources to start looking for a way home, and frankly, that is the least you could do after fucking kidnapping me! I- Ah, damn it, sorry about that. I do not know what is wrong with me these days.”
He had lost control of his anger yet again, it was incredibly frustrating. Which was funny in its own way, his anger was making him angry. Fucking hilarious.
“I do not take offence Lucas,” Terrasin smiled reassuringly. “The emotional swings are just a side effect of settling into your new body. Before, I would have said that your humors are out of balance because of the age difference- but after what you have told me about those, I am unsure how to describe it.”
“Age difference?” Lucas asked as an ominous feeling settled in his stomach.
“Yes,” Terrasin confirmed his quickly growing suspicions. “The criminal used in the ritual was about twenty years old. Despite your outward appearance, the body you have is not the age you appear to be.”
Lucas had no idea how to respond to that statement. For that matter, he had no idea how what she was describing would even work. The person whose body he now inhabited had, it seemed like, essentially mutated into him. Technically possible, he supposed, in the same way that anything out of science fiction might theoretically work if one had all the resources of an entire planet to devote to research. Realistically though, it would require knowledge of human biology beyond anything Lucas could ever hope to achieve.
“Wait a second,” Lucas said suddenly, having just realised something. “You told me the so called First Sorceress taught your peoples magic. Well, magic beyond the most basic anyway, but the ritual you used to summon me, her, and the first hero is very clearly magic. How were you able to make such a ritual without incredible knowledge of it?”
“We didn’t, it was stolen from the Demons.”
Well that was a surprise, Lucas thought to himself, and not a welcome one. Still, if he got here through magic- regardless of how it worked- he should be able to return. So the only thing left to do if he wanted to go home was…
“And the only other thing I want,” Lucas returned to the original topic. “Is to learn magic.”
