Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest
Chapter 86 - 20: People Who Have Been Helped

Chapter 86: Chapter 20: People Who Have Been Helped

"Gwivelle."

Amid the noisy surroundings, Gwivelle heard someone calling her name, a voice so familiar, impossible to forget.

Gwivelle turned her head to look.

She saw a somewhat haggard woman standing in the crowd, looking at her.

"Mom!"

Gwivelle waved her slender arms vigorously at the woman, her face alight with joy.

Seeing her eldest daughter’s lively demeanor, Sima Nova’s face also showed a kindly expression, and she nodded slightly at Gwivelle.

She had no particular agenda, just happened upon Gwivelle darting through the crowd and so she called out to her.

Indeed, her daughter had not been possessed by the Devil.

Otherwise, how could the benevolent and generous Lord have brought her out from the deep mountains, and even appointed her as a Chamberlain?

It was an enormous blessing and honor.

Since Gwivelle had become a Chamberlain to the Lord, Moor Lord’s attitude towards their family had improved significantly. Not only were all their debts cleared, but they also received a sheep, which her husband later sold to Lord Roman, fetching a price of one silver coin.

"It’s all thanks to Gwivelle," her husband had said, as if he had become a different person, repeating it daily.

Sima Nova agreed with this statement.

It was all Gwivelle’s doing.

Moor Lord is a good man!

The Lord is also a great man!

And her daughter, her accomplished daughter, to have survived in the mountains... it truly... truly made her happy.

Sima Nova touched the corners of her eyes, feeling a bit sore.

She was now working as an Assistant Chef in the big kitchen, cooking for the laborers every day.

And today, because of the celebration, there was even more to do.

Because it was so hard work, Deacon Seth, along with the young clerk Jimmy, told them they could eat anything they wanted here. After finishing their work, they could take home any of the leftover food, up to ten pounds of it.

Sima Nova picked up a piece of lamb leg that had been roasted until crispy, brushed with a layer of maltose. She liked sweet things.

The sweet, salty, crispy, and aromatic lamb leg crunched in her mouth.

In all the days of the past thirty-odd years, there had never been a day like today... one that deserved to be etched in her memory.

Not just for her, but this festive celebration was also destined to become an unforgettable memory in the hearts of all the people of Sige Town.

Years would pass, and as the elders of today died, the middle-aged grew old, the youths either settled down or fell in battle, and all the children became new pillars of society, they would always remember the day when Lord Roman declared that all food was unlimited and he would share a drink with them at noon.

...

"Sanna, have you had enough to eat?" Gwivelle, after greeting her mother, asked.

"Burp~ I feel... about seventy percent full..."

Sanna let out a satisfied burp.

The taste of the food was really good.

"Don’t eat anymore, Roman said you could burst from overeating."

"Let me have a sip of beer."

Sanna reached for her cup, preparing to scoop up a beer from the barrel, but Gwivelle immediately stopped her.

"You just threw up from drinking, you’re not allowed to drink anymore!"

She was unexpectedly stern.

Sanna sheepishly withdrew her hand.

The feeling from earlier was indeed unpleasant, she felt as if she was about to vomit out her swim bladder.

"Have you had enough?"

Gwivelle asked again, and seeing Sanna nod, she quietly said to her, "Come with me to a place to meet a few people."

Seeing Gwivelle’s secretive manner, Sanna couldn’t help but become curious too.

Under Gwivelle’s guidance, she stuffed the cloth bag with sheep legs, pork knuckles, beef, and then picked up another thick cloth bag filled with fragrantly soft white bread.

She also found two empty buckets that previously contained maltose, scooping almost a full bucket of oatmeal porridge into one and beer into the other.

The two walked off with their burdens, some on their backs, some in their arms, leaving the threshing floor.

Halfway through, they encountered the guards—whose duty it was to prevent the farmers from smuggling out food.

Roman had originally planned to let everyone take the leftovers home.

But how to distribute it was the problem. Even as leftovers, it was a considerable fortune worth several gold coins.

To let them divide it up themselves? That could cause serious trouble, and it was quite normal for people to get killed during the scramble.

Roman had no choice but to forbid them from taking any leftovers out privately.

Of course, the guards wouldn’t search anyone.

If one was capable enough to avoid detection, the guards wouldn’t be too eager to follow up on it.

This was an unspoken rule, which the cunning and foolish farmers surely understood as well.

However, when the gatekeeper guards saw the two bulging cloth bags on Gwivelle’s back, and the two small wooden buckets in Sanna’s arms...

The corners of the guards’ mouths couldn’t help but twitch slightly.

"Miss Gwivelle..."

She immediately took the initiative and said, "This is for Lord Roman, to be delivered to Origin Manor!"

There had long been very few people in the Lord’s manor.

There were indeed some slaves taking turns guarding in the animal pens, but are you going to feed the pigs?

The two guards did not stop them.

"Please, don’t tell Lord Roman..." Gwivelle said in a supplementing tone, but then she stopped midway, realizing she had exposed her own lie.

One of the guards said with resignation, "Miss Gwivelle, I was wondering if you needed any help?"

With two cloth bags on her back, Gwivelle sneaked around like a thief, shaking her head vigorously.

"You might not remember me, but I used to be a hunter," the guard added.

Gwivelle paused, took a look, and did recognize something familiar about him.

"Captain Dota mentioned this to me in advance, can you drive the cart?" the guard said, pulling a bullock cart over.

"I can!" Sanna volunteered.

"Miss Gwivelle, please be careful, and I hope everything goes smoothly for you."

Gwivelle and Sanna placed their goods on the cart, driving the bullock cart toward the direction of the deep mountains.

They stopped the cart at the foot of the mountain, tied the rope to a tree, and then, with their burden, started climbing step by step.

"This is so exhausting! Who exactly are you going to meet?"

Just halfway up, Sanna began to complain.

The items she carried were much heavier than Gwivelle’s, weighing around thirty or forty pounds, and climbing the mountain was a tremendous burden for her.

Gwivelle bit her lip and said softly, "Someone who helped me."

She was quite familiar with the path up the mountain.

At that moment, rustling sounds came from the bushes beside them, as if some large wild animal was moving.

Sanna was startled, but then she heard a voice coming from that direction.

"I haven’t helped you much, Gwivelle, you saved yourself."

A figure stepped out from the thick bushes.

He had handsome features, his stubble untrimmed for quite a while, his expression filled with vicissitudes, and his shabby attire gave a sense of a storied past.

"Uncle Dick." Gwivelle’s small hands loosened, dropping the cloth bag to the ground as she ran toward him, then hugged Dick tightly.

Dick sighed, "Gwivelle, we agreed you shouldn’t come here, you are now Roman Riptide’s chamberlain, it’s not appropriate for us to meet."

"Roman won’t be angry," Gwivelle said in a low voice.

"It would be great if you could all come down the mountain."

Dick shook his head, "We would cause trouble for him."