MY THANE AND
NOT MY LIEGE
In walking this dangerous forest between Pessem
and Mors, I must be wary of thieves - forest dwellers,
with their pickaxe and mail, ready to set do. Defenseless,
I would surely be doomed. The fact of having a twelve-
mile horse would really make little difference. They too
get pierced and expire. I could last longer without it.
The slurry between villages doesn't help this villein.
The cleared land slopes down from the forest, to where
that river sets in, a few more miles off. But all that's
in the other direction now, I'm headed away. I am
leaving my group for this travel, alone. Another
village in our shire is in trouble, and seeking
guidance. As Thank, I am called for.
I leave behind me sixteen families, and all our village
lands - three hundred acres, cleared from this forest
by our generations. Six cottages, nine villeins, and the
Thane, who is myself. Two hundred and four people,
and seven and a half ploughs - seven with a team
of eight oxen, and one with a half-team of four.