Bab 390: Burdens of leadership

Roland's mind weighed heavy with his responsibilities to the nations. The towns outside of Klain had been exceedingly generous with their resources towards the refugees. He hadn't had to mandate or command sharing in any way; the people of his lands willingly poured out their hearts and larders to those in need.

It was marvelous, but it also made it more terrifying how quickly those resources were dissipating. The missive from the search parties was also disheartening.

Water was a primary source of prosperity for Klain. The lake, the river, and the rich farmlands surrounding the city were vital to feeding its people. This great foul rock from the sky, as the message called it, had apparently not only poisoned the sea, but the river.

Roland dreaded to find out how far upstream this bitter acid had spread. Riders had been sent out with paper sensitive to acids to test wells and mark down which ones were still giving good water.

The paper was precious, a remnant of his father's time when the kings of Rhone feared assassination. The paper, once dipped in liquid, would turn black in the smallest presence of acids and other poisons.

The method to make it was known, but it took time to make enough. Every day Roland held his breath and whispered to the Fae to ask for help.

He dreaded a messenger returning with news that an entire village or town had been wiped out by the tainted water. Enough destruction had happened already, hadn't it?

Lily had been highly concerned by the news. He had wanted to keep it from her for a time, but her relationship with water was special. The girl had felt something wrong before the message was received. She had almost asked to go and investigate, but he distracted her with a task somewhat closer to home.

Roland sat atop his horse, looking out over the rolling hills. These were not usually farmed, since the flat, fertile land beyond was easier to plow. Currently, a small army of people were ready to do so here.

Stores of seeds were brought out, ready to be planted, and farmers from all around came to aid. After all, it was a little late in the season for planting, and the sooner it was finished, the better.

Roen rolled up his shirtsleeves as the crowd watched. The boy looked at his father anxiously. Roland smiled and nodded his encouragement. Roen took a deep breath and knelt to the ground.

Square plots of land had been marked out for planting, and the boy put his hands down at the edge. He closed his eyes in concentration as everyone looked on, curious as to what the young prince would do.

The ground shook slightly as a crease formed between Roen's eyebrows, and Roland frowned. His son had never even attempted something on this scale, perhaps it was horribly unwise to let him do so in front of people.

But the fields needed to be planted, and Roen had been confident that he could help. He was supposed to simply make the soil more fertile and less rocky, but it seemed like he was trying something else.

Suddenly, the ground seemed to split. Furrows in the earth flowed from Roen's hands and raced across the marked area. The crowd gasped and murmured muted exclamations about the occurrence, but Roland's eyes stayed on his son.

The young prince rose unsteadily to his feet, covered in sweat, and collapsed.

"ROEN!" The king leapt from his horse and ran to his son, dropping to his knees on the ground beside him. He checked the boy's pupils and ordered water to be brought forward. Lily handed him a canteen, and Roland lifted his son into a sitting position.

"Son, wake up. Are you all right?" He asked as calmly as he could.

Roen's eyelids moved, and he looked up at his father with a slightly blurry gaze before regaining himself. "I'm fine. Sorry, Father."

"What are you sorry for? You saved everyone hours of work." Roland praised the boy.

"I'll get stronger." Roen promised. "I'll do better."

"You've already done plenty. Rest now, it'll take everyone a long time to plant what you've opened up." Roland assured his son, motioning a guard forward.

He breathed a sigh of relief that the boy simply seemed worn out and not injured in any way. He wasn't sure if overuse of their powers would have side effects, but for now it looked exactly as physical exhaustion would.

Ivan helped the planters put seeds into the furrows, and when each was done, Lily directed exactly enough water out of huge barrels to get the growing started. Each marked field would contain a different crop, the locations chosen for the ideal distribution of sunlight and proximity to the lake.

Roland joined in the work after making sure Roen was recovering well. Taking up a bag of seeds, he watched and imitated Finn. As a farmer's daughter and talented gardener in her own right, she knew very well how to make things grow.

His father had told him to always lead by example when possible, and pitching in to make sure the city would have enough food through the winter seemed like an excellent way to start.

The people puzzled at first, seeing the entire royal family labor in the fields alongside them, especially with the three children using varying amounts of magic to aid the process. After a time, the mood settled into one of hard work and steady planting.

Roen had recovered from his efforts by the time the first field was completed. Roland worried about whether things were going quickly enough to feed the nation when Finn took his hand.

"It will be all right," She said softly. "This is far more efficient than normal planting. I believe we should be able to get all the extra stores of seeds into the ground in time."

Her face held a shadow of worry, and Roland squeezed her hand. He knew her fear; it had been expressed before.

The extra stores of grain and seeds were kept in case of famine. If a harvest failed, there would be enough kept aside to replant the next year. To plant all of that now meant depending on this harvest entirely.

If it failed, there was no backup plan, no reserves.

However, to not plant all of it surely meant that there would be too little food to feed all the refugees come winter.

Roland had been undecided on the matter of using up all the seeds in the reserve, but upon receiving the message from the coast that the water was poisoned, he knew that no food would come from the ocean this year.

He had been hoping that boats could be salvaged or modified from Klain's lake boats to fish in the sea and supplement what food Klain had. Those hopes were dashed in the face of the acidic ocean.

So, it was more important than ever that the harvest succeed. And for that, he depended heavily on his children. Far moreso than he ever wanted to at their tender ages. Lily would make sure, as far as she was able, that adequate water reached each crop. Ivan would supplement and enhance the sunlight wherever needed, and Roen would help with the planting and harvest.

He also had the peculiar talent of modifying the quality of the soil, breaking down rocks and enhancing the fertile nature of the dirt.

Barring terrible storms or plagues of locusts, the harvest was all but guaranteed. As if anything could be guaranteed.

His smile faltered. Shayn's letter had described the creature that came through the portal as being part locust. Hopefully that was a one-time occurrence and not something that would happen en masse.

Roland was becoming more and more convinced that the appearance of the portals was increasing in frequency and severity. He would be a fool to ignore it now, in the face of the disaster that drove the Cetoans far from their broken homes.

Finn pulled his hand, and he turned toward her in time to receive a playful kiss. He smiled.

"What was that for?" He asked.

"You looked too serious. Planting is a time for hard work, but also fun. The joy of the sower." Finn explained.

"The what?" How had he never heard this term before?

"The joy of the sower. You sow seeds in the ground, and water them and care for them until they come to fruition. Or maybe you don't get to. Perhaps you have to move on and someone else has that responsibility. Perhaps you'll see the harvest, or perhaps you won't live that long, and someone else reaps the yield."

"Yes, that sounds extremely joyful." Roland frowned, and Finn nudged him with her shoulder.

"It's about knowing that things you do now may produce great fruit and harvest for others in the future, even if you don't get to be part of it. It's hope that things will come with or without your further aid. You get to start something with faith that good will come of it."

Roland considered the words. So much of what he did was for the future, for his children, and to build a great kingdom he might never fully experience for himself. Pulling Finn close against his side, he kissed the top of her head and went back to work.