Page 59 of Anice’s Bargain

“I’m glad so many of ye came,” James said. He hadn’t anticipated such a number. “Our timing is good, as crops are needing to be planted now.”

“So, ye expect us to work the land, and then we pay ye for the right to do so?” A heavyset man asked from the front.

“Aye, Gilly.” James nodded. “Ye have the harvest to feed yer family with and to sell for coin.”

“And we owe ye a portion of our harvest as well?” Another man’s voice asked in the back.

“Aye.” James put up his hands to stay the questions lest they be hurtled at him too quickly. “The land is good, verra fertile. Ye can make a home here, one that willna be burned down, and ye can feed yer family with food ye grew with yer own hands. Ye will always have enough food to eat and ye willna need to risk yer lives to get it. Ye came here for an opportunity, one of peace and prosperity. And I mean to give it to ye.”

An approving murmur hummed through the clan.

Laird Graham folded his arms over his chest and cast a smirking grin in James’s direction. “Now how are ye going to teach these reivers how to farm?”

“I’d already thought of that.” James turned to Engelbart. “When is the farmer going to arrive?”

The knob in Engelbart’s neck bobbed with his hard swallow. “I do not believe he will be coming today, Mr. Graham.”

James stared hard at the skinny steward. “Why would he no’ come?”

Engelbart began to quake. “Be-because you didn’t see him to hear his grievances.”

James fought his rising irritation with as much patience as he could muster. “Why dinna ye tell me he was there? I’d have heard his first.”

“I was going to.” Engelbart’s fear faded in light of his apparent exasperation. “But you told him to get to the back of the line and I wasn’t about to speak against you in front of your people.”

James closed his eyes against the realization of who the assisting farmer was. “Do ye mean…?”

“Aye.” Engelbart gave an apologetic smile. “He is Tall Tam.”

* * *

The unrestin the Graham clan made itself known with several squabbles between the masses, boredom quickly leading to fighting. While Anice was not near enough to hear the conversation between James and the young steward, she could sense it would not possess a positive outcome. Especially in light of the delayed farmer.

She faced her husband’s clan. “While we wait on the farmer, I’ll explain how it will all work.”

They ignored her at first; mostly the wives, rather than the husbands, who were content to simply stare at her. She tamped down her ire. If they gaped at her for her appearance, hopefully some of what she said might get in as well.

She began first with the basics, explaining how the plough would be dragged over the soil by oxen to turn the strips of land for planting. As she spoke, more and more of the clan began to regard her with interest, some even appearing to actually listen. She went on to detail how some of the fields would be used for dredge, a combination of oats and barley, while some would be used for peas and beans.

“The peas and beans take a bit of work,” Anice admitted. “But the effects are worth the effort as the food stocks will store well throughout winter and will provide hearty fare.”

“How do you do it?” A woman with a long dark braid asked.

Anice knelt to the basket at her feet and withdrew a stick that had been whittled smooth by Leila some months back. She had deemed it too long and so had given it to Anice, who was now grateful for the bit of wood.

Anice held it out for everyone to see. “This is a dibbler.” She scooped up a handful of small hard peas and approached the group of several dozen men, women and children. “First you poke it into the ground, not too deep, but not too shallow.” She jabbed at the firm earth. “It will be softer once it’s turned.”

After a sufficient hole was dented into the ground, Anice held the hand clutching the hard peas over the crevice. “Then you drop in several peas. Not too many or the plants will all lose their battle to take root, but not too few, or you won’t have a sufficient harvest.”

“How many then?” the woman with the braid asked.

“In Werrick, we often did four.” Anice let four peas roll out of her hand and into the soil, which she then patted over to seal them within.

“And ye helped with planting?” a red-haired woman asked, brows raised with skepticism.

“Not always,” Anice admitted. “But we all helped a bit every year. Father insisted we all know the land.” She glanced to a little girl whose red curls matched her mother’s. “Would you like to try?”

The little girl slid a wary glance at Piquette, who had left James’s side to see what was being put in the earth and if it was worth digging back up.