Gabrant had not seen this scenery in a very long time.
He wondered how many years had passed since he had last come. He had no brothers and so he had left everything in the hands of the steward who had managed the land for generations. He had pushed all responsibility onto that man and had paid no attention himself.
As he and his guards rode their horses down the road, he noticed the townsfolk looking up at them with curious faces. To them, it was probably the steward, not Gabrant, who was thought of as their true lord. The thought made him laugh quietly to himself.
Winter had ended and the villagers were now waiting for the melted snow from the mountains to prepare the farmlands.
He saw people working in the fields here and there.
Their work clothes were simple and well-worn, patched in places, but the fabric was thick and sturdy.
The roofs of the homes beyond the farmland were also properly thatched and solid.
