The Wolf, the Butterfly, and the Kraken

Chapter 53

                                                            Vam

I had no idea what I was doing. Franco fell ill with a fever. He had been the one in charge of the animals. Being the only farmer amongst all the warriors working on the plantation I was the one leading the duties for them. I would show highly skilled warriors how to milk a goat, herd them into a pen at night, and lead them to water. The horses were much the same, needing pasture time and water, but they also had to be curried, and were not so easy to catch.

"What is the point of this beast again?" one of the 5 warriors asked.

"They have many uses. Some are ridden by the Venerans. Some are used for pulling wagons. Franco told me about these two larger ones. They are hard workers. They plow fields, pull sledges, uproot trees." All ears were forward now.

"The trick is going to be figuring out how to attach the plow, and I will work on that. I can't imagine it is too much different from hitching the gren at home. Franco mentioned that soon the animals would start birthing, and also the sheep needed to be shorn. The fluffers were to be trimmed as they were originally bred for cooler climates."

"How much?" a warrior asked.

I was supposed to know this. "You can start with the black bull today. Leave him 4 inches. Make sure to gather, and bag the fur. They use it for so much."

The warrior appeared nervous. "The black bull? How am I supposed to get him to hold still? He will surely try to crush me."

I looked at the warrior, "He is an animal. You tell him you are the boss with your demeanor. Watch me." I calmly, but determinedly entered the pen. It needed to be mucked out. I approached the bull, and looked him in the eye. I laid my hand on his tusk, and made my way over to his leg. I patted it, and the bull relaxed. Then I measured some fur, and sliced all but 4 inches off. I showed this to the bull. He snuffled, and went back to eating his hay. I left the pen, and handed the warrior the handful of fur. "You might clean out the pen first. Be mindful that these people may depend on this crop for survival. Just think of him as a gren. It will go easy."

The fluffer was going to be taken care of. Now it was time for the sheep. "I want the birthing sheep shorn today as well. A portion of the barn must be cleaned up, and those sheep placed in that area. Their wool must also be saved." Soon I had seasoned warriors mucking out stalls, and shaving ewes.

I faced the plow horses, and their gear. I pulled the plow and tack out into the full sunshine. The horses watched me. They knew what to do here. I opened their pen, hoping I wasn't making a mistake. "Let's go to work." It was something Franco said often before starting a task. The large horses went right to their positions to get strapped into the harness. The warriors watching were shocked. They must have thought I was some sort of farmer god. I was just lucky the horses knew what to do. I attached their harnesses, and the plow.

"Good horses. Let's go to the field." They followed me easily to the field that was going to be plowed today. There were several warriors out here already, trying to turn the soil with hand tools. This would not do, but the plow would. It would loosen large clots of soil, and then the warriors could plant the seeds, and cover them up with the hand tools. I whistled. They came over, breathing heavily in the morning light.

I organized everyone to make planting the field much more organized. The plow horses first. Then sticks, or pitch forks to make holes for seeds. Then seeds would be dropped in the holes, and covered up. I had never really pictured myself teaching others how to farm, how to grow things. In a way it was quite pleasurable. I never realized how much I knew. Watching men my age, and some older, stumble through simple tasks that I mastered as a child was interesting.