“You did what?!" Adalbert bellowed once I finished recounting the events of a few hours ago. This was probably the first time I'd seen the ever-elegant castellan display any proper emotion. "I knew you were always fickle and impulsive, but this is too far!"

  "Well, in my defence, he did try to kill me first and—"

  "Your father was right. He should have just sent you to the temple to be a priest! And I was a damn fool for convincing him otherwise…"

  Adalbert put a hand to his forehead and let out a deep sigh as the first wave of shock and rage washed over him.

  A few moments of silence passed as he paced the length of the great hall.

  I'd heard from the servants that he'd spent every day since my alleged death searching the edges of the forest. And that he wouldn't allow the bailiff to touch any of the money the Duke sent with me until either I or my body were found. Coupled with his admission that he'd convinced Karl's father to give him a chance, the whole thing really cast Adalbert in a new light.

  It caused a slight pang of shame to creep over my heart at his disappointment.

  Remember the greater picture, remember the greater picture…

  "Lord Karl, do you not realise what you have just done?" Adalbert asked once his voice and composure returned to their more usual selves.

  "I removed a tyrannical and corrupt bailiff who was an obstacle to me developing this village as I was sent to do," I answered defensively. "I am a much higher-ranked noble than him, and he did try to kill me. So I really don't see the issue."

  "Heh. If only it were that simple." Adalbert let out a pained chuckle and sat down on one of the benches. "You are Duke Albrecht's son, that is true. But even if you were the duke you wouldn’t have the authority to simply revoke titles of his vassal's vassals. Not even the Emperor can do that. And even if you could, the attempt on your life would need to be well documented to serve as justification for title revocation. There would need to be a trial, witness testimony, a formal complaint filed with the imperial court…"

  As Adalbert continued his lecture, I felt like I was back at university listening to one of my professors. Perhaps that was why I didn't dare interrupt him, even though I had every right to.

  "...so not only is your reputation ruined for conspiring with commoners to murder a fellow noble, but the Duke's reputation is also tarnished for allowing his son to run amok like some common brigand. Our rivals will have a field day with this as soon as word spreads. Do you now see how dangerous this is, not just for you, but for the entire duchy?"

  I took a breath, trying to organise my thoughts. "Look, I understand it's complicated politically. But Ugo was corrupt, exploitative, and tried to have me killed. Are you saying I should have just let him continue? I wouldn’t be able to do anything with him around!"

  “You still don’t understand, Young Lord. I guess I should have expected as much...” Adalbert gave me a hopeless stare. “Let me put it in simple terms: Count von Hohengrenzberg will certainly seek revenge for the deposition and death of his vassal. As rotten as Ugo was, the Count will not miss this opportunity to expand his influence—and punish what he'll call rebellion. And meanwhile, you will get no support from your father. At best, he'll wash his hands of you. At worst, he'll deliver your head to von Hohengrenzberg himself as recompense to keep everything quiet and maintain political stability."”

  Adalbert leaned forward, his voice dropping. "You have made yourself alone and defenceless. When the count’s army marches to pacify the village, what are you going to do?"

  "But I'm not alone," I said, finally moving onto the offensive. There was something Adalbert clearly wasn't taking into account. "I have the people of Rand behind me now."

  A moment of silence passed after my declaration.

  Adalbert stared at me. He chuckled bitterly. "Really? That was your plan? Your father really was right about you." He shook his head. "A handful of poachers and starving peasants will do you no good against trained men-at-arms and noble magic. They will be slaughtered to the last man. And that's assuming they don't turn on you first. Now that they've had a taste of noble blood, there is no telling how much further this will get out of control."

  I felt a chill at that. It was true—I hadn't really considered the possibility of the villagers turning on me. In all my planning, I'd assumed loyalty would naturally follow from liberation. But Adalbert had a point. Revolutionary fervour could turn in any direction.

  "They won't," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Because I'm going to give them something worth fighting for. Not just freedom from Ugo, but a real future. Better lives, better opportunities. Progress."

  "Progress," Adalbert repeated flatly. "The Count will bring trained soldiers and battle mages. You have peasants with hunting bows and pitchforks. Honestly, I think it’s best you return back to your father while we figure out how to make this blow over."

  "No. I'll train them. And arm them with weapons that this world has not seen before." I met his eyes. "Weapons that no might or magic will be able to resist.”

  Adalbert studied me for a long moment. "You've changed," he said quietly. “The way you speak, the crazy ideas. In some ways you are as naive and fickle as before, but in others it’s like you are a different person…"

  I said nothing. What could I say?

  Finally, Adalbert stood. "I still think this is madness. But I've been your family's castellan for thirty years, and I made an oath to watch over you. So against my better judgment..." He sighed. "I'll stay. I'll help where I can. It's not like I can leave now that the mountain passes are snowed in. But Lord Karl, you need to understand—what you're attempting has never worked. A peasant army defeating nobles? It's impossible. All such attempts have been drowned in blood. And I won’t be able to save you when it fails."

  "Only because no one's tried it the right way," I said. "And Adalbert? Thank you. For everything."

  He gave me a sad smile. "Let's hope your confidence isn't misplaced, Young Lord. For all our sakes."

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  I smiled back.

  With the poachers and Adalbert on my side now, there was only one more group left to persuade.

  ***

  The village square, if it could be called that, had filled with people. A crowd of maybe sixty or seventy villagers had gathered, their murmured conversations creating a low rumble of anxiety and speculation.

  Ugo's body lay in the mud about twenty paces away, covered with a rough cloth. I couldn't bring myself to look at it for more than a brief glance.

  Instead, I focused on the crowd in front of me.

  A few faces I recognised. Otto the blacksmith, his bushy beard unmistakable even from here. Kurt's children, clinging to their stepmother's skirts. Old Jost, leaning heavily on his walking stick with his granddaughter supporting him again. The rest looked exactly as one would expect poor medieval villagers to look: weary, anxious, unkempt, and dressed in an assortment of patched rags. Many were thin. Not quite starving, but not far from it either. The famine's toll was still written on everyone's face.

  For better or worse, these were my people now.

  I could see my breath fog up in the cold air as I climbed onto a small wooden cart parked in the middle of the clearing. My eyes felt like they had sand in them. I'd spent the entire night awake, cobbling together famous lines and rehearsing the speech in front of a particularly well-polished food plate.

  "May I have your attention, please?" I called out after a deep breath to steel myself. Despite practising a bit for presenting my thesis, speaking in front of lots of people was never my forte.

  The murmuring died almost instantly. Dozens of eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

  "Thank you all for coming. For those who haven't met me yet, I am Prince Karl Ludwig von Austmark..." I let the name linger in the air for a while before continuing. "I'm sure many of you have heard rumours about me. But I ask you don't trust everything you hear and instead hear me out right now."

  A fresh wave of whispers rippled through the crowd.

  "...really him?"

  "...drunkard and womaniser..."

  "...said he was dead..."

  Oh, Karl, you really are a gift that keeps on giving…

  I ignored the comments and pushed forward before I could lose my nerve. "Ahem, by now, you all know that Ugo is dead. The bailiff who forced you to work without pay, bled you dry with taxes, and let you starve—he's gone. Thanks to Dietrich and his companions, and with my support, you are now free."

  A portion of the crowd erupted in cheers.

  But just as many remained silent and wary.

  A few even seemed hostile.

  "You may ask yourselves—why?" I continued in a rehearsed, slightly wooden tone. "Why would some upstart noble's son care for the plight of a frontier village? The truth is, I probably wouldn't had I not come here. But coming here, seeing all that Ugo was up to, I realised that it is not right. And when you have once gained sight, it is impossible to feign—"

  "Bah, we didn't ask to be part of no noble intrigue!" a voice called from the crowd. An older man with a weathered face stepped forward. "We lived through Ugo's rule. We survived. And now you've gone and killed him, and the Count or someone else will come when you get tired of your game. And we'll all die for it."

  "Henrik speaks true," a woman added. "We kept our heads down. We endured. It was hard, but we survived. Now you've made us all targets!"

  I frowned.

  I couldn't understand how someone managed to make being freed a bad thing. Worse yet, several heads nodded in agreement. Were these people idiots?

  "You're right. You didn't ask for it. But can’t you see it wasn’t right?" I answered with a slightly brash tone. "Your children went hungry while Ugo feasted. Your daughters disappeared into his manor. You worked yourselves to the bone and still couldn't feed your families. That's not life. That's just... slow death. It was injustice. Evil."

  I could see the word land with some of them. A few parents pulled their children closer.

  "Yes, change is dangerous. But I'm offering you a chance at something better. Not just for you, but for your children and their children after that." I took a breath. It was time to yet again borrow a few words from a much better speaker than myself. "You see, I have a dream. A dream that one day, people in this world will be judged not by the circumstances of their birth, but by their abilities and content of their character."

  Henrik and the few villagers around him were still unmoved, but I could see some of the uncertain faces softening. Hopefully the next part would bring them over to my side fully.

  "However, I'm not asking you to believe in dreams. I'm offering you something concrete. As of this moment I am abolishing serfdom in Rand."

  Stunned silence.

  Then murmurs of disbelief.

  "I am also eliminating labour obligations. No more unpaid work on the manor's fields or kitchens. Your work shall only be your own."

  The murmurs were getting louder, more excited.

  "And finally I am abolishing most taxes. Merchet, heriot, tallage, banalities... All of them. The only tax remaining is one tenth of your harvest. The rest you may sell or trade as you wish."

  This time the roar was deafening. People were hugging, shouting. Old Jost was openly weeping. Even Otto had a massive grin splitting his bearded face.

  The celebration continued for several moments before I raised my hands for quiet.

  "But I won't lie to you about what comes next. The Count won't accept this. He will see it as rebellion. He will come to put you back in chains. So if you want to keep your freedoms, I will need your help."

  The crowd quieted, waiting.

  "I'm not asking you to throw your lives away. I'm going to train you properly. Teach you tactics, discipline, and give you weapons that they could never imagine." I couldn't help but grin slightly as my mind drifted towards images of columns of modern soldiers marching shoulder to shoulder. "And when they come, they'll find something they've never seen before. Not a mob of desperate peasants, but a real army. Free men and women fighting for their homes and families."

  I could see excitement building once again, especially among the younger villagers.

  A soft but resolute voice cut through the murmurs: "And what about the other nobles? Even if we beat back the count, there are a thousand others in the Empire." It was Jost's granddaughter, Erika. "I don't think any would allow such a revolution to exist. Do you have a plan for them as well?"

  I could see Henrik nodding, a hint of smugness on his face.

  "Ah—My Lord, please forgive Erika, she—" Jost quickly started to apologise, panic in his voice.

  "No, it's good she asked," I interrupted, giving her an approving nod. "You're absolutely right to ask."

  I turned back to address the whole crowd. "There are thousands of nobles, that is true. And all will likely be against us. But!" I let my voice rise. "There are millions of you! Slaves. Serfs. Peasants. All yearning for freedom and opportunity."

  Both myself and the crowd held a breath.

  "And this is the message we shall send to all those who would take it from you." I raised my fist in the air, imitating every revolutionary poster ever. "Tremble, nobles! Your hour has struck. The world of oppression, tears and slavery is being replaced by the bright world of freedom and progress!"

  I saved the most powerful of borrowed quotes for last.

  This time, the response was electric. Excitement, fear, and determination all swirling together. The energy had shifted completely. What had started as fear and doubt had transformed into something else.

  Then someone near the front, a young man I didn't recognise, stepped forward.

  "I'll fight," he said simply.

  "Me too," another voice called out.

  "And me!"

  Within moments, dozens of voices were volunteering, hands raising, stepping forward. Men and women, young and old—they all pledged help. The few around Henrik were still frowning, but even they were too swept up in the energy to protest in the moment.

  As the crowd swarmed around me, I caught Adalbert watching from the edge of the village. He looked worried still, but there was something else in his expression too.

  Not quite belief. But at least the willingness to see where this impossible dream might lead.

  A dream.

  For now, it would have to be enough.