From the mountains in the distance, looming ever-present behind the castle city walls, a rolling wind tumbled down its slopes and meandered across the wheat fields. The days of heat would soon be over, a chill edge to the air making that promise as it drifted across the farmers working late into the afternoon. Under the crimson glow of the setting sun, two men and a woman carefully sliced through the stems in wide sweeping arcs, leaving the fruits of their labour in their wake in ragged piles.
Jjon Luck lifted his scythe and rested against its handle, sweat running down his forehead. The cool wind was a welcome gift, however it meant their work needed to progress much faster if they were going to finish the harvest by the beginning of the cold season. He looked across to his companions. Lei and her brother Keran were still working hard. Heads down, the steady shkk shkk of blades on grass dancing like violins in the whoosh of air, the earthy scent of their efforts filling his senses.
Harvest had always held a place in Jjon's heart. From when he had been boy, working the fields with his mother in the blazing heat, to the first time he had been out here alone some eight years ago now. The harvest was the result of a year of hard work and, although strenuous, he knew the results of this would keep him and his mother in good spirits over the cold nights to come. Even Keran and Lei would finally get to rest, and throughout the months of howling wind they would come and join his small family for nights by the fire to share in the reaping of the work they had sewed. Harvest was a sign that the work, for now, was almost over. For a brief moment, before the planting cycle started once more, he could rest.
"You alright Jjon?" Came Keran's voice. He had noticed Jjon staring idly at the mountains behind Castle Wren-Egar, and Jjon responded immediately by picking up his scythe once again.
"Yes, apologies." He replied.
Keran laughed, his usual good humour still shining through despite hours of labour.
"We've been working all day, Jjon. You're allowed to stop and rest."
Jjon gave him a small smile.
"I'd be a terrible boss if I did."
"Boss huh?" Called Lei from behind her brother. "First time you've ever called yourself that. Don't let it go to your head."
Jjon placed the base of his scythe handle in the dirt once more.
"I pay you, don't I?"
"Yeah, but who does all the work around here?" She retorted with a sly grin. "Not you, that's for sure."
Keran flung his wide brimmed hat at his sister, who ducked it merrily.
"Shut your mouth." Keran grinned. "Seriously, Jjon, call it a day. Me and Lei can finish up here."
Jjon cocked his head.
"You sure?"
"Of course! The boss would have every right to punish Lei for her attitude anyway."
Lei rolled her eyes.
"Jjon would never do that, he loves me too much."
Jjon almost tripped over his scythe as he was moving to start the walk back home. It was fortunate he had his back to her, because his cheeks went bright red.
"Finish as soon as you can, both of you." He said, not turning around.
"Told you." Lei whispered to Keran as Jjon wandered away.
As Jjon walked, he gazed at the remnants of the days work on the ground around him. Not much left to do now, maybe another week and he could finally sit down. But for now, he would go home and rest. He could already smell his mothers cooking from here, the skilfully seasoned beef she would regularly torture the neighbours with the scent of had been filling the field for an hour now. To Jjon, it smelt like the perfect way to end the day.
As he lifted his head however, a sight near the far wire fence shook him from his afternoon dreams. His heart sank.
So today is finally the day, he thought to himself. The soldiers have come at last.
Jjon slipped in the back door of his house. On his approach, he had seen the soldiers spreading out down the road, small clusters gathering outside the doors of his neighbour's homes. They were armed, and the sheer number that had been sent meant the King was serious this time. Each group was ten strong at least, aside from the one standing outside his front door. They must have numbered twenty at least.
"I don't care who sent you," He heard his mother, Jjin, shouting out the front. "Tell him he can't have a single inch, not while I'm here!"
"That is exactly what I am here to facilitate." Came a cold voice Jjon knew all too well.
Rikal his name was. A bastard in every way except the literal. Jjon had had plenty of run ins with him before, landing him in the cells on more than one occasion. Rikal was hard, and unwavering. Where some of the other officers might be convinced to let things slide, Rikal was the opposite. Unlike almost all of the standing army, Rikal was no conscript. Instead a career solider from a long lineage of others. He had no empathy towards the farmers and working people in the Wren-Egar domain. And his records from conflicts in wider Lothren had shown just how relentless and savage he could be if necessary. If he was here then it was more than just bad news. It was genuinely life threatening.
Jjon marched furiously through his kitchen towards the front door. As he passed the countertop, he hesitated. His eyes landed on a long carving knife, viciously sharp as his mother liked them. Taking it quickly, he dropped it down the side of his boot, carefully sliding its blade between the padding of his woollen sock and the leather.
"I remember you from being a boy, you know." Jjin was saying outside, lowering her tone. "Snot nosed little asshole if I remember correctly. Not much has changed, has it?"
Jjon heard Rikal scoff.
Jjin continued, louder now.
"Tubby little monster too. I remember you crying when your fat father didn't let you have any more sweets. Guess you still aren't used to not getting what you want. Just don't cry in front of your men."
The officer scowled. Through the front door window, Jjon saw him raise his gauntleted hand.
Jjon charged forwards, barging the door open and catching the fist in midair as it descended toward Jjin.
"Hit my mother and it will Be the last thing you ever do with that hand." He said in a dangerous tone, eyes locked firmly on Rikal's.
"Then she should watch her mouth." Rikal said, unwavering, harshly taking his wrist back from Jjon's grip. "You know why we are here, boy."
"The answer is no." Jjon replied flatly. "And if you think you think punching my mother will change that, you're wrong. You'll be sent back to your owner with broken teeth and empty handed."
Rikal took a half step back into the ranks of the soldiers who took up defensive positions beside him, hands on sword hilts.
Reaching into his belt, Rikal withdrew a long scroll, unravelling it and reading aloud.
"This land, and all lands surrounding it, have been claimed by the King Laurence of Wren-Egar, effective immediately. All persons must vacate the premises immediately and make their way to the castle city, where upon they will be granted temporary accommodation until such time as there is lodgings and work for them."
Rikal's eyes flicked from the paper. He didn't need to read the last line in order to recite it.
"Refusal to comply will result in execution."
Jjon held his ground, spitting on the dirt at his feet.
"By order of the king, yada yada." Jjon growled, eyes narrowing. "Tell Laurence he can come and get it himself."
Rikal was lightning fast, catching Jjon across the jaw with a steel fist. Jjon rocked backwards and thudded into the doorframe behind him. Jjin screamed.
Rikal paid her no attention.
"King. Laurence." He emphasized the title. "But to you, it is 'My Lord'. Got it, you ungrateful shit? He could have ordered us to come here and have you all hung for the issues you've caused. But no. He is offering you a home and a job. If you want to hold onto your pride to protect…" He waved his arm wide, looking at the farm in disgust. "…this sorry patch of mud, then go ahead. Do it." He bared his teeth, gripping the hilt of his sword with a tight fist. "I dare you."
Jjon touched his lower lip. Blood. He pushed himself from the doorframe and stood tall in front of Rikal.
They had been trying to take this land for about a year now. He and his neighbours provided wheat for the whole of Wren-Egar, and a large majority of Lothren's outer towns too. King Laurence, more accurately his family line, owned the mills for hundreds of miles around. From this they made a substantial profit. The crux of the matter was supply. Farmers were mostly families who had been doing this work for generations, and for most kings this was no issue. But King Laurence took exception to this. Why pay for wheat, when you could own it yourself?
So his tirade had begun, snapping up all the farms within arm's reach. Jjon and his community had been lucky to last this long. The surrounding lands had been taken, most often by force. But Jjon and his small group had been different, playing the dangerous game of defiance. Each time the order to evacuate came, it had been driven away, bribed, threatened, or otherwise dissuaded.
But this time there was no dissuasion. This was an active band of soldiers, and an officer with specific orders. For all intents and purposes, the game was up.
Around the side of his house, Lei and Keran came sprinting towards Jjon. They slid to a quick halt as the soldiers at the flanks drew their blades and pointed them towards the approaching siblings.
"Hey! What are you-" Lei began.
Jjon interrupted her.
"Take my mother."
She looked at him with confusion, as did Keran.
"Take her back to your house, keep her safe."
Lei opened her mouth to protest, but Keran put a hand on her shoulder.
"What's your plan, Jjon?" He asked.
Rikal gave a single bark of a laugh. "Yes, Jjon, enlighten us."
"I seek an audience with the King." Jjon said.
Rikal grinned wide, baring his teeth.
"And just why in the Hells would he meet with you, huh? What reason would he possibly have when I could just slice your head off right now and save him the time?"
Jjon gave a small smile.
"He'll meet me. Cause he hates me."