British hegemon

Chapter 55 Doing Something Big

The Seawolf was moored at the makeshift dock in Ramrush village. Roger paid each of the three fishermen a penny as agreed. The three fishermen were overjoyed, because in the past, the lord would not assign tasks to such lowly fishermen, let alone keep his promise to pay them the full amount.

Roger paid three pennies, but his fame would surely spread through the three fishermen, far exceeding the value of three pennies.

Of course, Roger hadn't thought that far ahead. When he led everyone back to the manor, his adoptive mother naturally gave him another lecture. But when she saw the iron box full of heavy gold and silver that Maren was carrying, the nagging adoptive mother obediently shut her mouth.

Amidst the bewildered gazes of the crowd, Roger, feeling itchy all over, went back to the attic to take a bath, changed back into his light robe, and went to the study on the first floor.

A man with a bitter face was already waiting there. Several piles of gold and silver were stacked on the wooden table in the study. A bald man with a ponytail stood guard on either side of the door, armed and armored.

Roger glanced at the two show-offs and walked straight into the study.

"Sir, after carefully counting and sorting, I weighed the items on a balance scale. The iron box contained about thirty pounds of silver, with varying purity and silver content. After a rough calculation, it was roughly thirty-eight pounds. The gold coins were of better quality, and after conversion, they were about nine pounds. The total was forty-seven pounds. Adding the gold in the treasury, it was just enough to pay off the debt, with a little left over."

The man with the bitter face let out a heavy sigh of relief, as if a huge burden had been lifted. "After the wheat harvest in a few days, we'll sell some more grain, and the Milk House Manor will start to make a profit. The old lady said she wants to find you a noble lady as your wife, so we need to start saving money and grain to welcome the mistress of the manor."

"Young Master Roger, you don't know, the Milk House Manor has been living on borrowed money all these years, it's really not easy." The bitter face relaxed its tightly furrowed brows slightly, and a faint smile appeared on its face, which was rarely seen in a hundred years. It even forgot to change the way it addressed "Young Master Roger".

It's clear that Milkhouse Manor struggled to survive during the reigns of two generations of Sir Colin. As for the matter of marriage, that was pure nonsense; Roger didn't even bother with it.

Roger casually picked up a gold coin from the table. It was an unfamiliar shape, and he didn't bother to investigate. He said to the man with the bittersweet expression, "I have other uses for this money. I won't use it to pay off debts."

The bitter face, which had been immersed in relaxation and happiness, suddenly darkened, and the brows that had just relaxed immediately furrowed again.

"Sir, you...you're going to squander this money? This is a hundred acres of farmland!" The man with the sour face thought Roger wanted to squander this huge sum of money, so he quickly spoke up to nip that terrible idea in the bud.

Bitter Gourd Face is alright in other aspects, but he only has eyes for the tiny Milk House Manor. However, Roger understands, after all, not everyone can have a God's-eye view.

To avoid making the old butler's face turn sour, Roger offered a brief explanation: "I will handle the money borrowed from the Irish merchant, and the estate's land will be preserved."

"Don't sell the harvested grain this year. Store it all in the granary. Before the harvest, have someone repair the granary again."

The man with the bitter face was skeptical, but since Young Master Roger had recovered from his serious injuries, he had indeed changed a lot. His actions and thoughts were extraordinary. If he said he could solve it, then he probably could.

As for the food, the man with the bitter face simply thought that Roger wanted to hoard it and sell it at a high price when food was most scarce. Although it was somewhat unethical, it was not unreasonable.

Seeing that the man with the sour face didn't offer any further opinions, Roger recalled a few things that the bald man and the ponytail had mentioned on the ship. "By the way, the bald man and the ponytail want to bring their relatives to the manor."

"Bald guy, ponytail, come in," Roger called out towards the door.

Yesterday, on the sailboat's return journey, the bald man, unusually shy, approached Roger and said that he had some money and planned to sell the two dilapidated thatched huts in Brodick market town, and use the money to rent a thatched hut belonging to a peasant soldier who died in battle at Milk House Estate, so that he could bring his half-blind grandmother there to take care of her and ensure that his poor, blind grandmother, who had spent half her life in poverty, could live a life free from want.

Roger certainly agreed; a subordinate who has someone to care about is someone you can trust.

However, Roger advised the bald man not to sell the dilapidated houses, saying that the two houses wouldn't fetch much money anyway, and that they might appreciate in value in the future. The bald man was puzzled by this, but since Roger had already said not to sell, he naturally accepted the advice.

Upon learning that Baldy had taken his grandmother to the Milk House Manor, Ponytail immediately sought out Roger, hoping to bring his suffering sister, who worked as a servant in the fat tax collector's household, to the manor so she wouldn't be bullied by the tax collector's wicked woman every day.

With so many lice, there's no fear of bites. Since the Milk House Manor already has over a dozen mouths to feed, there's no worry about adding another one. So Roger readily agreed to let the girl with the ponytail come to the manor kitchen to help out. With the increased staff, the chubby cook was a bit overwhelmed.

"...Tomorrow morning, you two will go and pick up your respective people, put them in the manor's carriage, and bring them to the Milk House Manor in style. Tomorrow night, we'll have stewed meat in the kitchen, and everyone will get a share."

The bald man with the ponytail was so excited that his eyes welled up with tears. He just kept rubbing his hands and nodding to express his gratitude to Roger.

After waving away the two thankful attendants, Roger turned to the man beside him with an inscrutable, bitter face. "Old man," he said, "there's something else I've been thinking about for a long time, and I've decided to do it today."

With a bitter expression, he stood waiting for Roger to speak.

"I want to give away twenty acres of prime farmland, along with a household of serfs, from the estate's own camp."

Upon hearing this, the man with the bitter face widened his eyes, and his eyebrows finally formed an inverted V shape.

Roger squandering his own money was fine, but he began to squander the family business, which his loyal old butler could not accept.

Seeing that Bitter Gourd's face was flushed and his lips were trembling with excitement, Roger raised his hand to stop him. "Bard, in the name of the Lord of Milk House Manor, I hereby bestow upon you twenty acres of farmland and a family of serfs from Milk House Manor."

"From this day forward, you will be the owner of these twenty acres of land, and you will enjoy all the rights that are legally granted to you on your land."

Before the man with the sour face could react, Roger had already picked up a quill and begun to write a contract on a piece of parchment. The contract roughly stated: "Lord Roger, hereby grants to Bard, the steward of Milkhouse Manor, twenty acres of irrigated land at the border of Whitting Bay, along with a serf household, all rights to the land. Signed by: Roger Campbell."

After Roger finished writing the contract, he awkwardly took out sealing wax from the drawer, lit the wick with a flint and steel, dripped the dark red wax onto the contract, and solemnly stamped the Red Eagle Black Ship seal onto the document.

"From now on, you are a landed gentry, and of course, the grain from this year's land will belong to the manor. Originally, I was thinking of giving you six months to go home and rest, but I have some important things to do now, so you have to stay and continue to worry about me."

Roger placed the parchment into the hand of the man with the bitter face, leaving the man in a daze as he walked out of the study, saying without turning back, "I'm going to the sea salt beach tomorrow, you're coming with me."

.........

Roger, who originally planned to head south and return to his hometown, has changed his mind and decided to stay and do something big.

However, the dairy farm he took over was not as glamorous as it seemed on the surface. Given the climate of Northern Europe and the soil conditions of Arun Island, not to mention how difficult it would be to implement the farming model, the time required for agricultural production reform alone made Roger hesitate.

So after a little thought, Roger decided to start with the few remaining traditional salt-making businesses at Milk House Estate to solve the problem of money first.

The Milk House Estate was quite a distance from Brodick, and the church bells didn't reach there. Roger was once again troubled by not knowing the exact time. Fortunately, the chickens in the estate were quite diligent, and Roger, who got up at the sound of the roosters, had breakfast with his squires early.

Bald-headed ponytail is going to bring his relatives to the manor to settle down today; Sergeant Marne has been sent to the Seawolf to supervise the old fisherman teaching five fishermen from Ramrush how to handle sails and sail.

Olaf then led seven or eight farmers armed with sticks to patrol the territory bordering Whittingbey, using his reputation as "pirates" to suppress the Whittingbey steward who had been beaten and forced back to the border a few days earlier but was still resentful.

At this time, Roger was accompanied to Holly Island by the sour-faced butler of Milk House Manor, the young horseman Ego, and the now-recovered black dog.

The reborn black dog was no longer dressed in its dirty and tattered clothes. Instead, it wore a clean set of armor that it had obtained from Bald Olaf, along with a short sword and an iron-winged short spear.

During his recovery period, he had food and drink every day, and occasionally even got a meal of meat and wine, so he was much more energetic than before when he was skinny.

Roger also learned that the guy nicknamed Blackie was actually named Sigurd, and was twenty-one years old. Like most of the young men on Arlen Island who became thugs, Blackie was an orphan with no one to rely on, and survived by stealing chickens and dogs and robbing people on the road.

This black dog was usually quiet and reserved, but unlike Sergeant Marn's calm and taciturn nature, the black dog seemed somewhat dull.