10 Minute Tales, Part 2

Sep 16 - A Simple Village

They had come to the territory from their old home. A dozen citizens of the kingdom of Fernholm. Banished, of all things, for crimes they hadn't even committed. They stood now by a large river, the boat that had been their prison sailing back upstream.

"Cast out of paradise!" one complained. Bril had previously been a student at the city's university, and had been removed for false accusations of antisocial demeanour and theft. "We're stuck out here for the rest of our days!"

"Let's stay calm, okay?" her husband tried to soothe her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "It's not all bad."

"Not all bad? We were barely able to convince them to leave the supplies they did!" she gestured to the land they had cleared as a stockpile. It had some wood, stone, even a modest collection of iron ingots. "This is all that's left!"

"Look around, my dear." he gestured with a sweeping motion to the surrounding countryside. She turned to look. The river swept through a mighty forest, the gentle wind whistling through its many branches. "The woods shall provide what we need until we can fend for ourselves."

"Are you suggesting we all become woodsmen?" one of the others came over. A muscular individual, his crime was vandalism. "Because I have no plans to just wander into there and lose my mind."

"You won't have to." he turned to the others, waving them closer. "We just need to work together and build a village of my own." There were murmurs of surprise, confusion, doubt. A village? By themselves?

"There's just a dozen of us!" Another woman pointed out, coming to the front of the crowd. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Well, we have enough resources to at least build a storehouse. Let's start with that, see where we can go from there."

"This is never going to work." they grumbled, but he was confident. They had surprised him with their willingness to co-operate already. The storehouse would be done in moments, and they'd have supplies to spare.

-----

A week passed. They had built houses for themselves, simple wooden cottages that stopped the rain from hitting them. Morale improved gently.

Another week passed. A woodcutter's hut had been built, heating the homes they had worked for. The people smiled again.

The rest of the month passed. They had cleared enough space for a field of crops, and were starting on growing potatoes. Their concerns of hunger were dying.

Another month passed. They built a forester's tower and a herbalist. Their warmth and health had been all but assured.

He stood in front of his house, wiping his brow. He had become one of the dedicated builders, letting the others focus on their respective duties. He looked up at the timbers of the school he was building. It was going to be a magnificent building. He could imagine it now, with white walls and tiles.

"Roderic?" a voice asked, snapping him out of it. He looked over.

"Oh, Bril. What's wrong?" he asked her, turning to face her. She simply held up her tool. It was once an iron sickle that helped her with her herbalism duties, but now the blade had snapped. They couldn't repair it with what they had. "Hm." he nodded. "I'll have to clear room for a blacksmith, then."

"Please hurry." she muttered. "Our child won't be able to work with just their hands."

"No, I know." he nodded, grimacing a little. The problems had just begun.