After talking with Moll, Alna and I returned to the spot by the river where Alna had woken me up. Three onikin men were already there when we arrived, preparing to set up a cloth house—a “yurt,” they called it. They worked quickly.
First, they cut down the grass where they were going to place the yurt, then laid down a cloth flooring and put up the framework that would become its walls. At the same time, the section that would become the roof of the yurt—complete with pillars meeting at the skylight—was built on top of that framework.
Once this was complete, the roof was placed firmly atop the wall framing, and all of it was covered in a white outer cloth while the finer details were finished up.
“They’re so quick,” I remarked. “I thought they were just getting started, but it’s practically a home already.”
“Easy to put up, easy to take down, and easy to carry—that’s what makes a yurt special, and that’s why we use them,” said Alna, my new caretaker. “When we run into a threat that we can’t escape with concealment, we take down the yurts and we move the whole village.”
I could tell that Alna wasn’t a big fan of her new duties, but she was at least willing to teach me the law of the land, and even in the short time since I’d talked to Moll, she’d already taught me a lot. She told me it was easy to get sick out on the plains and that I should wash daily to clean away any possible ailments before they settled; that I should shave every day because nasty stuff got into beards; that I should keep my nails clean; that I should wash my clothes every day; and all sorts of other tips.
Alna was most enthusiastic when it came to the topic of baars, the livestock Moll said she’d provide me with. Baars were fluffy animals covered in white wool, with two curled horns sprouting from their heads. Alna told me that Moll wasn’t exaggerating when she said that they were essential to onikin life.
However, baars weren’t raised for their meat. They were raised for their wool. Baar wool was durable and water resistant, and these qualities were improved when the wool was woven into cloth. It was a high-quality material that felt wonderful to the touch.
Baar wool was used for the exterior cloth of yurts, bedding, and the onikin’s clothing and underwear. The material played a big part in supporting their way of life, but it was also an important source of income, as it was sold to traveling merchants.
When I heard this, I asked Alna if merchants visited from the kingdom, but she replied with only silence. I knew then that she wasn’t going to open up about any merchants who visited anytime soon. I wondered if perhaps it was a merchant from a foreign country. Not that I had much to say about it either way.
Once they’d finished the yurt, the onikin men planned to build a livestock pen for me. After that, a pair of baars would be sent from the village, but this was going to take a little while—Moll planned to choose a healthy pair of young baars, and I couldn’t have been more grateful. Not only was she giving me some of their precious livestock, she was going to make sure they were healthy too.
The more a baar ate, the more wool it grew. If I sheared this wool and took it to the village, they’d supply me with food and other essentials. I was told I could process the baar wool myself, but I was clueless when it came to that kind of thing. However, I did know that more wool meant more food, so I wanted to take really good care of my baars and ideally grow their number.
Apparently, wild baars appeared on the plains from time to time, and it was okay to catch them when you found them. More baars meant better wool production and better chances for them to mate, so I was ready to sprint after one if I saw one.
My basic plan was a bit on the slow side of things, but at least it was set: get myself some more baars and live a good life out on the plains. Moll and the onikin were treating me really well so far, and I had to make sure I did my part in return. That meant settling in, making my domain bountiful and plentiful, increasing my subjects, and...
Hm?
Wait a sec. Increasing my subjects? How exactly do I grow my domain’s population anyway?
“By the way, Alna,” I said, “I was wondering, do you know how I could increase the population around here?”
“How the heck would I know?” replied an irked Alna. “All I can tell you is that it’s not going to be as simple as it is with the baars.”
Yeah, how is she supposed to know?
I’d thought Alna was one of my subjects when I first met her, but nope, none of the onikin were my subjects.
Which means my domain’s population is still a big, fat zero.
Alna saying it wasn’t going to be like the baars was probably her way of saying that the onikin weren’t going to donate any subjects. Naturally, I wasn’t going to find any roaming around in the wild either.
So what am I supposed to do? It’s not like my subjects are just going to sprout from the ground.
I spent some time thinking about it and racking my brain, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of how I was going to increase the population. Perhaps if I’d been better educated I might have had some ideas, but there weren’t any ideas—or much of anything, really—floating around inside of my head.
How do the other domain lords do it? All I know is farming and fighting.
In response to my anxious moaning, Alna’s eyes formed into slits and she glared at me.
“Look at you, sitting there moaning. Pitiful,” she said.
“I’m sorry, but I’m doing the best I can. I can’t start anything if I don’t have subjects, but I don’t even know where to start.”
“You keep throwing that word ‘subjects’ around, but think about it for a second: what would you even do if you had some? You’ve got one yurt and enough jerky for one person. Did you even consider that? You get yourself some subjects and all they’ve got to look forward to is death by starvation or illness.”
“Wait! So you mean that if I increase my population, the onikin tribe won’t provide for them?”
“Don’t be stupid! There are limits to our generosity, you hear?”
“Right, of course. I’m sorry; forget I said anything. Well, I guess that means I need to focus on food and housing before population. Trading baar wool won’t secure me enough food for a group.”
I was back to square one, with no good ideas whatsoever, and I let out another moan. The house and food I had now were all thanks to the goodness of Moll’s heart—how was I supposed to secure that for my potential subjects? People, homes, food. There was so much I had to think about, and it was all getting tangled up in my mind.
There was no way I was going to arrive at an answer while I was so confused, but as the lord of the lands, I had to find an answer. So I thought, and I kept thinking, and then I started to feel a fever coming on.
Is this the dreaded brain fever I’ve heard about?
I felt like steam was going to start pouring from my ears and my brain would boil. As I sat there waiting for my brain to melt, Alna let out a sigh.
“I wouldn’t want to be subject to someone so stupid in a million years. Hey, your loony lordship, catch.”
Alna passed me a leather sack about the size of my fist. It was full of powder of some kind.
“That’s matani dust. Use it.”
“Matani dust? What’s that?”
“It’s crushed grass with a scent that wild beasts love. Spread it around and the aroma will draw the animals.”
“Wow, I didn’t know a grass like that existed. But, uh, what happens after the animals are drawn to the dust?”
“How about using that brain of yours to think about it, your loony lordship? Hunt some wild game and you’ve got yourself some food, no? Get yourself some hides and horns, and you can put them to use too. Take what you don’t need to the village, and if you have enough materials, you can trade them for another yurt. If you’re just going to stand there like an idiot then you may as well get out there and do something manly like hunting. At least start laying the groundwork for your future subjects.”
“Wow! That’s a good idea! I’m good at hunting!” I exclaimed. “I don’t even have to think when I do that! Great! I’m going hunting! Right this instant! Um, do you mind looking after the yurt and waiting for the baars?”
“Nope. That’s what I’m here for, more or less. And I wouldn’t leave sensitive baars in a dolt’s care anyway. But let me say this clearly: get far, far away from this place before you throw that dust around. We don’t want any wild beasts causing trouble around the yurt. Head downwind until you can’t even see this yurt anymore, then use the dust.”
I nodded brightly, then took my axe in hand and ran downwind. Running thoughtlessly through the fields helped to cool my simmering brain and clear my foggy mind.
Maybe I’ll think up a good plan for recruiting subjects while I hunt! Nothing quite like exercise and moving the body!