The oil lamp's flame flickered in the castle's lord's chamber, casting Arthur's shadow on the stone wall behind him, sometimes lengthening, sometimes twisting.
All traces of the Terry Family had vanished from the castle, signaling a change in its owner.
Arthur sat alone at the table, lost in thought, contemplating future developments.
On the wooden table in front of him lay a parchment, and he held a pen, constantly writing and sketching.
Measuring land, counting population, re-dividing fields, building water conservancy, ways to generate wealth, streamlining administration, tax system, military merit system.
Without wise advisors by his side, he could only rely on himself for everything, writing things down to remind himself to accomplish them one by one.
He wrote and paused, sometimes stopping to think, his knuckles tapping lightly on the paper, emitting a dull sound.
Arthur picked up the parchment, examining the development plan on it, his brows slightly furrowed.
"Nine years..." Suleiman murmured to himself.
Time was not abundant; the Riverlands, though vast and fertile, was also surrounded by powerful neighbors, and once war broke out, the land would be scorched and desolate. Nine years was not a long time; a system of governance serving war had to be established as quickly as possible.
Those difficult hard bones still encroaching on his territory were a bit tricky to handle. He would temporarily set them aside and test the waters first, but they must eventually be reclaimed. This was his future foundation.
The matter of him burying Knight Terry alive had surely spread throughout the Three Rivers. Rule could not rely solely on benevolence; it must also inspire fear.
Power resides in the heart of man, and fear is the easiest to enter the heart.
"Cavalry!" Arthur emphatically wrote this bolded word on the paper with his quill.
The Riverlands, with its fertile land and lush pastures, was surrounded by enemies on all sides. Whether for offense or defense, only cavalry could penetrate enemy territory and provide swift support. The Riverlands had many horses, making it most suitable for establishing a standing cavalry force, yet it was constrained by the system: no powerful monarch, feudalism, and the knightly class.
He currently had eighteen warhorses. He had even taken the horses from Deep Valley City. Fully armored cavalry was out of the question due to its exorbitant cost, but equipping eighteen men and horses as heavily armored cavalry was feasible.
There were also more than twenty wild mountain ponies captured from the wildlings, which were truly useless except as pack horses.
This meant he now had to fund twenty riders and twenty warhorses, along with their equipment, to be non-productive, which was still a considerable expense. People were easy to support, but horses and equipment were the main cost.
Arthur lightly wrote a few words: "Horses! Stud farm! Equipment!"
Just as he was deep in thought, the door to the lord's chamber was urgently knocked upon.
"Enter!" Arthur was growing increasingly annoyed at being disturbed during his contemplation.
Upon hearing the command, Hakon hastily pushed open the door and entered, his face full of awkward smiles, sweat, and anxiety.
"What is it now?!" Arthur's brows furrowed, and his face twitched slightly.
"My Lord, Lord Arthur." Hakon panted, his hand habitually touching the back of his head, his honest face filled with helplessness. "Dividing the land... there's been another problem... the land still can't be divided..."
After speaking, Hakon seemed a bit embarrassed and lowered his head, feeling the shame of having messed things up and failing to complete his entrusted task.
"What's the reason this time?" Arthur controlled his emotions, his voice calm.
"Some... some people said that the fields we allotted to them were too small, while those allotted to others were too large, which was unfair," Hakon reported, blushing and stammering. "And some said the land they received was too barren, full of rocks."
Arthur felt exhausted. He guessed that the two of them must have measured the land by foot, based on feeling, which led to some people getting large plots and others small ones. Lack of education was truly terrifying.
As for complaining about the fertility of the allocated land, he could understand that too. The concept of Westeros nobility was deeply ingrained, and people only obeyed the commands of nobles. Hakon of Lucien was, after all, a commoner, not a noble, and people always wanted to argue with them.
Hakon paused, seemingly finding the next words even more shameful and difficult to utter: "Even some of the former refugee veterans... complained... saying that the land allotted to him was too large... such a big, good plot... he couldn't possibly farm it alone, wasn't that making things difficult for him?"
"Ha! Ha!" Arthur laughed in exasperation. He stood up and paced back and forth in the small room, his footsteps thudding on the floor.
He knew what the old veteran meant. More than half of his troops were refugees whose families had been massacred by wildlings. They weren't complaining that the land allotted to them was too good; they were subtly hinting and pleading for the Lord to assign them wives.
Knowledge! Governance! Standards! Order! The system of Westeros was so stable, entirely due to the restriction of cultural dissemination.
He once again felt the preciousness of educated people. Talking to a group of people who couldn't even figure out how big the land under their feet was, was like playing a lute to a cow.
Any construction ultimately could not do without intellectuals. Finding intellectuals had to be placed at the forefront of all his plans.
Arthur stopped and walked in front of Hakon: "Go, find me a few of the longest, strongest thin ropes."
"Ropes?" Hakon looked bewildered.
"Yes! Ropes!" Arthur said word by word, "Now! Immediately! At once! Then gather all the soldiers! Tell them to wait for me by the river!"
On the fertile fields by the river, hundreds of soldiers were gathered, their murmuring voices forming a noisy clamor.
They stood in groups of three or five, pointing at the distant fields, sometimes arguing, sometimes gesturing, the atmosphere tense, completely lacking the strict order of a marching army.
"Quiet!!!"
Lucien, who was controlling the situation on site, let out a roar, and the clamor of the crowd abruptly ceased.
The soldiers all turned to look into the distance. Arthur, riding a tall white horse, accompanied by Hakon and ten riders, was galloping towards them.
Hooves pounded on the soft earth, emitting a dull sound that grew closer and closer, each thud like a stomp on everyone's heart.
The crowd automatically parted, creating a path. Everyone lowered their heads in solemn silence, not daring to meet the gaze of the young lord on horseback.
His authority was evident.
Arthur reined in his horse, which neighed. He looked at no one, riding directly into the center of the crowd.
The warhorse constantly pawed the ground, lifting its hooves, turning its master to face all directions.
Everyone was solemn and silent, with only the gentle sound of flowing water spreading across the fields.
"Bring the ropes!!!" Arthur shouted.
Hakon dismounted, panting, carrying several bundles of thin ropes.
Arthur took the ropes and handed one end to a rider: "You! Stand here! Find a piece of wood and nail it at the starting point of the rope!"
He then looked at another rider, handing over the other end of the rope: "You! Pull it! Ride to the end! Find a piece of wood and nail it at the end point of the rope! Remember! Pull it as straight as possible!"
The two riders immediately carried out the order. To the confusion of all, a taut, straight thin rope appeared on the flat ground, like a clear boundary line.
The soldiers looked at each other, not understanding what their lord was doing.
Arthur offered no explanation. He ordered the soldiers: "Now! Starting from that piece of wood! Turn around! And pull out another section of the same length!"
The riders moved again, and soon, a huge square enclosed by four equally long thin ropes appeared before everyone.
It was so regular, so clear, forming a stark contrast with the surrounding lands that had been haphazardly divided into various shapes.
Arthur rode his white horse to the center of the square, surveying the silent soldiers.
"Everyone see clearly!!!" Arthur shouted!
"From today onwards! On my land! My rope is the standard! There will only be suleiman acres!!! This is the suleiman acres!!!"
His voice echoed across the open riverbank, making people's eardrums tingle.
Arthur sat on his white horse, pointing at the land below him.
"From this beginning!!!"
"The size of the fields!!!"
"This is the custom!!!"
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