Chapter 27: The Inheritance Ceremony

The concerns of the peasants were not unfounded. For decades, even centuries, they had been planting rye in the traditional way. On average, each acre of land was sown with 1.5 bushels of rye seeds, yielding 13 bushels in the autumn. They would then set aside 1.5 bushels for the next planting, handing over the rest to the lord and keeping some for themselves.

Now, the lord was suddenly asking all peasants not to plant their own saved rye seeds anymore. Instead, he would distribute new seeds to everyone. Naturally, the peasants didn't doubt the baron's intentions. After all, if anything went wrong, the lord would also suffer significant losses.

The issue lay in the fact that not only did the baron ask the peasants to plant new rye seeds, but he also increased the tax rate from 50% to 60%, and with the church's tithe, it reached a staggering 70%. This was enough to spark confusion and dissatisfaction among all peasants.

However, Baldwin, the steward, continued to explain that the yield from these new rye seeds was much higher than the old ones. He even guaranteed with a thump on his chest that the increase in yield would be no less than fifty percent.

Hearing this, the peasants gradually calmed down. They had no doubts or disbelief in the lord's intentions, but if the yield could indeed increase by fifty percent, then even a 10% increase in the tax rate was acceptable.

Thus, many peasants were persuaded. Although some old-timers hesitated, as more and more people came forward to collect the seeds, eventually nearly everyone took their share.

But many peasants' worries were largely dispelled when they received the new rye seeds. Each seed was large, plump, and aromatic, far better looking than their own shriveled seeds.

Many experienced farmers marveled at the seeds in their hands. For many who had lived a lifetime, it was the first time they had seen such beautiful seeds, filling them with confidence in the upcoming harvest.

Seeing that many peasants were gradually accepting the new directive, Gwyneth felt even more anxious. He trusted the system, as it had never failed or deceived him since its appearance.

However, the most prudent approach would have been to test a small batch first, observe the final results, and then decide whether to expand. But he no longer had the time; he couldn't wait. The crisis foretold by the system was less than six months away.

There was no time left for slow, cautious experimentation. It was all or nothing. If the newly planted seeds failed to yield next year, the problem would be severe.

With this in mind, Gwyneth decided to keep all the grain harvested this year – 199 tons of rye and barley – and not to sell any of it. If there indeed was a crop failure next year, he might still have enough grain to cope with the famine, preventing the peasants from starving.

Thus, willing to take the risk, he went all-in. With this decision, Gwyneth instructed Baldwin to collect all the old seeds from the peasants. He wanted to ensure they wouldn't cheat by accepting the new seeds but planting the old ones. Such freeloading behavior was something he would not tolerate.

...

After the autumn harvest and tax collection, Baldwin's work didn't slow down. He was busy arranging Gwyneth's inheritance ceremony, a top priority for the coming period.

Baldwin had invited numerous local nobles, mainly knights and some barons. They had good private relations with the former Baron of Targas, Gwent Wintaling, and out of respect for him, many were attending Gwyneth's ceremony.

Additionally, Gwyneth's superior lord, the Count of Annon River Valley, would

also send a representative to witness Gwyneth's succession. The ceremony's presider would be Bishop Milo of the same diocese under the Count's domain, who was also the Archbishop of Annon River Valley. The primary reason they could invite the Archbishop was Gwyneth's arrangement for Baldwin to offer a devout contribution of one gold coin plus thirty-six silver coins, aiding in the renovation of the diocesan church.

After receiving affirmative replies to the invitations, the castle's staff began bustling with preparations. Baldwin informed the manor to select a batch of livestock in advance, including cattle, sheep, pigs, and poultry like chickens, ducks, and geese, ready for slaughter.

The servants and laborers stuffed the castle hall's ceiling and chandeliers with candles and covered the floors with rush mats. The chefs were busier than ever. To handle the increased workload, Gwyneth temporarily hired additional chefs from Windermere City. They were to prepare various roasts, stews, and pies, along with seafood specially brought from ten miles away, including fish, shellfish, and crabs. Additionally, they prepared soups, bread, pasta, fruit pies, desserts, fresh vegetables, and fruits, offering an overwhelming variety of dishes.

Not to mention the diverse array of drinks, including various wines and meads. Maids adorned the castle's corners with fresh flowers, and the Wintaling family's banners were grandly displayed above the hall.

Once everything was ready, guests began to arrive. Given the grandeur of the event, they brought gifts according to their wealth and status. Knights with modest means typically presented less valuable items like scrolls, manuscripts, music scores, artworks, paintings, sculptures, and handicrafts. Slightly wealthier barons gifted animals like horses, hounds, and falcons, or lavish rugs and exquisite fabrics. Some noblewomen and ladies even offered their hand-embroidered works, a token of their sentiment.

As the head of the Wintaling family and host of the banquet, Gwyneth stood in the hall, welcoming each guest and their gifts. At the castle entrance, well-dressed attendants were specially arranged to announce the identity of each arriving guest, ensuring that these distinguished visitors received the respect and attention they deserved.

When the Count's envoy appeared in the hall, the atmosphere of the banquet reached a new peak. Gwyneth, along with all the guests, welcomed his arrival. The envoy was not only a respected knight but also represented the will of the Count of Annon River Valley, signifying profound implications.

Finally, when the church's carriage entered the castle courtyard, the arrival of the Archbishop drew everyone's attention. The ceremony officially began.