Dominic put the enhanced garden wall at the top of his list, then decided that the next most important part would be the repairs to some of the houses in the village and nearby farmsteads.
Farmers were their highest priority for residents, so he would put in the effort to ensure that they were catered to.
It was getting late in the day, and Dominic was just finishing with the repairs to the tenth farm house of the day, when he saw a group of travellers on foot approaching the village.
They had an ox cart with them, full of what was likely their worldly possessions, as they didn’t have any guards, and the state of their clothing did not give any impression that they might be merchants.
So, he went to greet them.
"Greetings. Welcome to the Wistover Ducal Estate." Dominic called as they approached.
"Greetings, Lord. We are refugees from Causter, headed for the Cygnia border. Might your lordship be so kind as to offer alms to the homeless?" One of the men asked.
"If you’re headed for Cygnia, you should know that the border crossed you nearly a week ago. All of Stansia Province is now under the dominion of the Cygnia Kingdom. Though, you are standing on the granted lands of Cygnia’s newest Duke." Dominic explained.
The refugees looked around, seeing only a few Royal Guards moving around the village.
"Pardon, My Lord, but does your estate not have any peasantry?"
Dominic shrugged. "There is one household so far. Once we had renovations finished, we intended to head for Causter and Lympsbury to incentivize a few more families to move.
This estate had been abandoned since the end of the Dagos invasion."
The refugees gave him a shocked look and answered instinctively. "Mentioning the transfer of power like that is treason, don’t let the Nobles hear that, they’ll flog you to death."
Dominic laughed and patted the man on the shoulder. "This is no longer Dagos. This is Cygnia, and it is no crime to speak the truth. But you are looking for somewhere safe to settle, are you not? Do you have any skills?"
The man looked back at his large extended family.
"Well, I worked in a steel mill as a labourer, but my brother and his wife were sharecroppers. I see that there are some untended fields..." The man answered, faint hope in his tone.
Dominic nodded. "Indeed there are. If you’re willing to learn from your brother, I have no problem allowing your family to move into this farmstead. Those four fields totalling forty acres are attached to it.
If you can work all forty acres within half a year, you may remain as sharecroppers, and I will grant you tax amnesty for two years from the day you move in."
"Is the house liveable?" The man asked.
"Indeed. I have just finished some repair work, and the entire contents of the house remain from the previous tenants.
When this village fell, there were few survivors, and it has been protected from looting, so everything remains untouched. I don’t know what you brought with you, but with an ox and eight adults among you, I don’t see why you couldn’t do it.
If you feel you can work more land, you can spread to a second farm. The farm equipment is still mostly intact, but the animals are long gone." Dominic offered.
The man nodded to a young woman who was likely his wife, and she ran off to the nearby farmhouse.
It was only three bedrooms, Dominic knew. It would be horribly cramped for the family, which was originally three or four branches of one family. But without the skills to work more land, or any other jobs available for them until there were more residents, it would be a shame to give away a larger farm, and a waste to put them unemployed in town.
"There are houses in town as well. But for now, there is no town population, no shops for you to work at. Until we gain skilled craftsmen, there is no need for town labour." Dominic explained.
The oldest of the refugees, a wizened man with shockingly golden eyes, climbed down from the back of the cart and hobbled up to Dominic, using a walking stick for stability.
"You are a Wavemates Dragonkin." He stated with absolute certainty.
"Indeed. Dominic Wavemates, nephew of the former Earl of Wistover under the Dragon King. Now Duke of Wistover under the King of Cygnia and returned to my home."
The old man reached into his robes and took out a brass wand with a crystal set into a cage of wire.
He pointed the wand at the sky and set up a golden flare into the fading twilight.
"Stay outside for a few hours, My Lord. The true citizens will come to the signal." The old man insisted, then broke into a coughing fit that caused him to crumple to the ground.
"Grandfather, you are too weak to be using magic. I’m sure that the Lord didn’t need your sparkles to celebrate our arrival." One of the younger women criticized.
The old man waved his hands as he coughed. "I’m not celebrating, silly girl. That is a Village Guard flare. Anyone who served in the armies under the Dragon King will recognize it and know that we have found a friendly lord.
We’re far from the only ones on the way south today. We might have left late, but there are plenty of others who have been moving slowly, looking for safe haven within our own borders."
Dominic picked the old man up and placed him back in the cart.
"Why don’t I show you into your new home? It’s not much, but it will do for now.
If you want, I can even build a few more small houses to create a family complex. I have the magic to make the walls and roofing, and we have hired a skilled carpenter for the rest."
The old man shook his head. "We will deal with being cramped until we are settled. We have brought a large yurt, and that will do for the overflow of family members. I trust that a Wavemates will hold to his word and let us stay while we fulfill the conditions of our residency."
The younger family members nodded in agreement, though they didn’t look as convinced.
They were all children when the nation fell, and they lived in a major city, over three hundred thousand people, so they didn’t ever actually have any personal dealings with Nobles, unless they entered a shop they were working in.