I built a manor in the Middle Ages

Chapter 22 Brown Bread Without Sawdust
Luc led the cautious Ryan towards the blacksmith shop in the west.

He still bought Ryan, but paid a higher price for it - the deaf John raised the price and insisted on adding ten rabbit skins to exchange for Ryan. This was obviously unreasonable. After several negotiations, Luc finally gave all the leathers except deerskin to John and received a reward of one hundred pfennigs.

He glanced at Ryan who looked confused. He liked Ryan because of his carpenter identity, but Ryan himself didn't know that the new owner was a wandering poet.
So when Luke took him into the blacksmith shop, Ryan's heart skipped a beat.

The smoke of war has not yet completely dissipated, and the images of fighting in the mind have not disappeared. Although the probability of a wandering poet turning into a mercenary is very small, it is definitely not zero.

But when he saw Luc buy a hoe, a saw, a shovel, a sickle, and the plane, chisel, hammer, etc. needed by a carpenter for 75 pfennigs, his fear turned into doubt.
In a blink of an eye, Luke, who had spent most of his money, threw all these miscellaneous iron tools to Ryan to carry.
"I am not John. I will not easily beat or scold you. If you serve me well, I will also provide you with enough food, but I also have my own rules."

Luc held his dagger and looked down:

"You must be loyal to me! Believe me, I'm very good to my own people, but the prerequisite is that you must be one of my own. I won't hit or scold you easily, but if I find that you are disrespectful or have any ulterior motives, I will kill you directly!"

Ryan does look like a harmless boy, but Luc is not naive enough to think that a slave he bought casually will become a loyal fan in the blink of an eye. Appropriate suppression is necessary.

"I understand, Master."

Ryan lowered his head and looked at John. Luc's burly figure was no less impressive than John's. Although Luc's tone wasn't harsh, it was filled with a chill. Ryan, with his strong intuition, knew that the other party was not joking and would kill him if he broke the rules.
Seeing Ryan's respectful look, Luke nodded, then took out the remaining small piece of deerskin from the package and threw it to Ryan:

"This leather is yours from now on. Also, don't call me master, call me something else!"

Ryan was very surprised to receive the deerskin. Needless to say, deerskin was precious. Ordinary serfs at least wore ordinary linen, but Ryan's clothes were not even complete. They were ragged and broken, just like a beggar. Autumn was coming, and winter was approaching. Whether the deerskin was used to make clothes or to exchange for money to buy winter clothes, it was undoubtedly a timely help for Ryan.
After all, not everyone cares about the death of their slaves.
But after hearing the second half of the sentence, Ryan was a little confused. Isn't this how slaves call their masters?
"Well, I'll call you Master then."

"master"

Luc chewed on this term, which was usually how servants addressed nobles. He was still a poor man, so how could he be called a master?
But no matter what, it was more pleasant to the ears than what the master said, so Luc did not stop it.

With the remaining twenty-five pfennigs, Luke bought some pottery and other miscellaneous items, then took Ryan back to the tavern and had a simple lunch. Finally, with the remaining fifteen pfennigs, he took the village chief's donkey cart back to Ward Village with little Charlie and Ryan, who had stayed in the tavern for half a day.

When the sun sets, Luke and his party finally return to the village. Despite the village chief's refusal, Luke insisted on paying two pfennigs for the fare. Only trade can last long if there is a give and take, and there is no need to take advantage of such a thing.

Feeling Luc's sincerity, the village chief let Luc and his companions stay overnight. Early the next morning, he watched them return to the mountains.

"Is Village Chief Luc really a bard? He bought so many farm tools and often appears over there on the other side of the mountain. I don't think he's a bard at all."

After Luc disappeared from sight, the farmer who first discovered Luc came up to the village chief and said with some doubt.

"Does the bard have anything to do with us?"

The village chief frowned and glanced at him with dissatisfaction. "Living a good life is better than anything else. Don't ask anything! Even if he's the baron's illegitimate son, as long as he's harmless to us, don't pry into his details!" "Remember this, Jill. This is the life principle I've learned over the past few decades."

……

Ryan is obviously much smarter than Jill.

He followed Luc into the mountains carrying large and small iron tools on his back. Apart from being slightly surprised, he did not ask any questions.

The occasional fluctuations were also because little Charlie was sniffing around him. Ryan had experienced famine and war since he was eleven or twelve years old, so compared to humans, this hunting dog seemed to be much smarter than other dogs, which made him like it more.

"Just rest here tonight."

After trekking for a whole day, Luc chose an open space to settle down. He ordered Ryan to put down his iron tools and pick up some dry firewood, while he took out the dried venison and prepared to cook it.

This was the first time that Luc didn't have to collect firewood himself and just wait for dinner. No wonder it is said that power is fascinating. Just commanding one person allowed Luc to briefly enjoy freedom from the hardships of labor.

After a while, Ryan brought back a pile of branches. Luke lit the bonfire, untied the deerskin bag, set up the pottery he had bought, and started to cook the dried meat.

The smoke from the venison cooking curled up, and little Charlie was standing by with his tongue hanging out and saliva dripping off his tongue.

Ryan, who was sitting cross-legged opposite Luc, stared at the pot of venison and kept swallowing his saliva. His stomach rumbled unconsciously, and he immediately covered his belly and smiled awkwardly.

Ryan hadn't had a full meal since he started fleeing famine. Needless to say, fleeing famine was a problem, and when he was at his most desperate, he had even eaten the hard heads of mountain rats raw.

On the battlefield, cannon fodder like Ryan who were conscripted were not treated as human beings at all. When they arrived at John's house, they were beaten and scolded. After resisting the other party's sexual assault, the punishment of not being allowed to eat became another commonplace.

There was no decent food in the tavern or Ward Village.
Smelling the rich aroma of meat, Ryan's saliva was no less than that of little Charlie, but he still waited for the pot to boil and waited obediently for Luke to eat first.

Luc took out two ceramic bowls. They bought a lot of pottery this time, even a dog bowl for little Charlie.

Handing the ceramic bowl to the surprised Ryan, Luc filled each of their bowls with venison soup and said to the bewildered Ryan, "Eat quickly. After you finish eating, go to sleep. We have to travel tomorrow morning."

The steaming mist hit Ryan's face. The fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy, holding the pottery bowl, suddenly felt as if his hometown had not yet been destroyed. It was as if he had returned to the time when his parents were still alive. It was like his tough father handed him a piece of black bread without sawdust in the low but warm thatched house at night and said, "Go to sleep quickly, because you still have carpentry work to do tomorrow."

Waves of trance flashed through Ryan's mind, and the boy raised the ceramic bowl and began to eat voraciously.

(End of this chapter)