[The British Isles, Northumbria, Lothian, April of 793]
William clapped his gauntleted hands together once, the sharp sound echoing in the rafters and making several women jump.
"Eadric, the reeve," William commanded, gesturing toward the corpulent man who had rejoined the center group. "Step forward."
Eadric waddled forward, wiping his hands again on his tunic, his eyes fixed nervously on the thegan's blood-caked warhammer resting against a bench.
"My lord?"
"You have a tally of the remaining structures in Hillsyde?" William asked.
"Aye, my lord," Eadric replied, pulling a small, dirty parchment roll from his belt pouch. "Fourteen longhouses survived the burning, though only four are occupied by the families gathered here. The rest are... empty." He swallowed hard. "By custom, those properties have reverted your grant, awaiting reassignment."
"Good," William nodded curtly. "They default to me now, as the Thegan of this land." He turned his attention from Eadric to the large group of widows and single mothers gathered near the right wall. The women gripped their children tighter, anticipation and fear mixing on their weary faces.
"The reality of this frontier is simple," William announced to the entire hall, his voice carrying easily. "Every available roof must shelter working hands. We have fourteen structures that can be made livable with minimal effort, and we have many who need a hearth."
He pointed at the group of women. "You widows and mothers, listen closely. You will not beg, and you will not be a burden on this community while I am lord here. You will rebuild those houses, and you will live in them."
A wave of quiet relief washed over the group. The crushing fear of being cast out or forced into immediate, desperate remarriage began to lift.
"Eadric," William continued, "I want those empty houses assessed immediately. I want the women grouped into fours—four women and their children per house. They will pool their labor and their strength. They will work the land assigned to their new homes, and they will be safe under my protection."
Eadric stared, slightly dumbfounded by the immediate departure from local custom, where such decisions usually took weeks of negotiation. "Into fours, my lord? Yes, my lord. It shall be done."
William then shifted his gaze to the most vulnerable group: the fifteen orphaned boys and girls standing by the center hearth, their young faces already hardened by loss. They flinched under his scrutiny. Harold, standing slightly behind William, watched with curiosity.
"And you children," William said, softening his voice just slightly. The change in tone was minimal but noticeable. "You are alone, without kin, without a protector."
"As your Thegan, I claim you," William declared, his voice firming with a new resolution. "You are no longer orphans. You are mine."
The children gasped, not knowing whether to be afraid or relieved.
"You will live in my Great Hall," William continued, gesturing around the cramped space. "I will see to it that you are fed, clothed, and taught right from wrong."
"Now, Eadric," William said, hefting his imposing warhammer, "I'm going out for a walk. Finish your work, then come find us."
With that, William ignored the bewildered peasants and walked out, Harold hurrying after him.
Just before reaching the doorway, William stopped next to the reeve. He lowered himself slightly, bringing his helmeted face close to Eadric's ear. He whispered an instruction intended for no one else.
Eadric, already nervous under his new lord's gaze, simply grew more confused after hearing William's quiet, strange command, his brow furrowing as William straightened up and disappeared through the doorway.
THWACK
Thwack.
William raised the axe high and buried the blade deep into the trunk of an oak tree. Nearby, Harold mirrored his master, hacking away with desperate enthusiasm, though most of his blows only succeeded in chipping the outer bark.
Harold paused to wipe sweat from his brow. "Sir Gwyndolin," he panted, "can I ask a question?"
William pulled the axe head free with a grunt of effort. "Ask away."
"What you said back in the Great Hall… are all those children your pages now, too?"
William paused his swing, a slight smirk touching the corner of his lips. "Are you jealous, Harold?"
"No!" the boy insisted quickly. "I'm just asking."
William turned back to the tree, raising the axe high again. "No, Harold, you are my only page." The blade bit deep into the wood once more. "But who knows? If you fail to cut through that tree trunk by sundown, I might need an extra helper."
THWACK. THWACK. THWACK.
"MY LORD!"
Eadric scrambled through the mud path, his chest heaving. "My lord, I must object!" he protested, finally reaching William, who was swinging a crude woodsman's axe instead of his usual imposing warhammer. "You shouldn't be doing manual labor; you command others to do it!"
William swung the axe high and sunk the blade deep into the trunk of an oak tree with a practiced thwack. "I'm stronger, so cutting the trees should be easier for me; the others have other tasks to do," he said, pulling the axe free and repositioning for another blow. "Now give it to me straight, Eadric, what's the village stock?"
Eadric sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. "My lord, the inventory is... thin. Before the raiders came, we had five good milking cows. Now we have but two. We lost three cows." He continued down his mental list, his voice heavy with the losses.
"For the sheep, we had ten heads. We have four left. Six lost. We had five goats; now only two remain, three lost. The pigs... they took them all, my lord. Not a single pig remains. The hens... we had many. Only two are left, and they took the rooster as well."
"So it's bad," William said flatly, sinking the axe into the tree once more.
"Yes, my lord. It is very bad."
"How much would one cow feed the village if we butchered it?" William asked, his focus unwavering on the task at hand.
"My lord, you can't possibly thin"
"How much?" William repeated, stopping his work to look at the reeve.
"Several weeks, perhaps, if strictly rationed."
"Butcher it. I will buy another one later," William said, dismissing the reeve's concerns.
"Yes, sir." Eadric quickly agreed, understanding the finality in his lord's tone.
"Did you arrange the refugees as I commanded?" William asked, returning his attention to the tree.
"Yes, sir. The widows were arranged in groups of four across the empty houses with their children."
"Good. For the grains, I have no idea about farming so I trust you will plant fast-growing crops that can see us through the next few weeks."
"I shall see to it immediately, my lord," Eadric replied, turning to hurry back towards the settlement.
William simply nodded, raising his axe once more.
THWACK