For seven days, the fertile valley of the Green River was a beehive of sharp-angled parcelation.
Nessa Vale stood at the center of the river-bed plain, her earth-measuring transit mounted on its brass tripod, sighting true solar baselines across the meadows. Her sound tube was tucked away. Her voice rang clear and confident as she directed teams of chainmen and stake-drivers across the loam.
Tomas Reed walked beside her, his master ledger open upon a portable land-mapper’s desk, with Lord Justice Kenneth’s royal clerk. Nessa confirmed each parcel map point. Then, Tomas issued the official, red-sealed Freehold Title Certificate to the head of each household.
Every single family received exactly forty acres of prime river alluvium, bounded by deep drainage ditches and marked at all four corners with seasoned ash stakes branded with the royal crown. Every parcel included forty rods of direct river frontage, guaranteeing sweet drinking water and open irrigation rights forever.
There was no lottery, no bribery, and no favoritism. The oldest families, who had lost the most elders in the salt flats, received the sheltered bottomlands near the willow groves. The younger wagon drivers received the high, gravelly terraces best suited for winter wheat and vineyards.
