By midday, the workers sat down in the shade of the trees to rest. Everyone, without exception, was covered in dirt and sweat.
Feltham's condition was dire. Only three houses remained standing. Another fifteen were damaged but could be quickly repaired and occupied again.
And the rest...
"We'll have to build everything from scratch," Eloise murmured helplessly.
The joy of survival had been short-lived. At the sight of the devastating scene under the bright sun, despair overwhelmed her.
For over a hundred years, this had been a quiet village where people lived without major incident. And then—this flood.
Seeing the carcass of a sheep, half-buried in red mud, darkened her mood further.
Not only houses had vanished. Fields where harvests had been ripening were completely submerged. Many painstakingly raised animals had been swept away.
Eloise turned her head. Everywhere, people who had witnessed this terrible sight were weeping.
Though they consoled one another—saying it was fortunate no one had died—the real problem lay ahead.
Restoring such devastation would not be easy. In truth, it was nearly impossible.
They could stay at Blissbury for a time, but that couldn't last forever. Those who couldn't find their way back home...
*Will everyone really have to move north?*
Feltham was fertile land. Until now, almost no one had left to seek work in the north.
But in the poorest, most land-starved regions, everyone abandoned the brutal labor of tenant farming and migrated to industrial cities. Because it was the only way to survive.
*But life in the northern industrial cities, they say, is very hard...*
They said the smoke from factory chimneys blocked out the sun all day. Coal smoke deposited black dust on the street trees, and factory runoff killed all the fish in the rivers.
And most importantly—entire families had to live in single cramped rooms.
If they abandoned restoration now, nearly half of Feltham would have to leave everything behind and move north.
At these thoughts, Eloise's expression grew darker and darker—until a long shadow fell before her.
"Why such a face?"
She looked up to see Ryan gazing at her with concern.
"The damage is greater than I expected."
"..."
Ryan could find no words of comfort.
Even by his assessment, the damage in Feltham was severe. And since this was a village that had never anticipated flooding, the destruction was worse still.
Ryan sat down beside Eloise.
"I'll ensure everyone can stay at Blissbury as long as they need. And I'll contact Baron Stanford."
Eloise smiled bitterly at his words. She knew how much Baron Stanford valued the people of Feltham.
Another aristocrat wouldn't have permitted villagers anywhere near his mansion—but he spent his own money and hosted a reception for them every year.
Yet having residents stay at Blissbury long-term was another matter entirely.
Even Baron Stanford couldn't accommodate so many people. Besides, Blissbury didn't require that many workers.
"Don't worry so much. Everything will work out."
"I hope so..."
Though born in the capital, Eloise had always considered Feltham her home. She didn't want such a place to vanish so easily.
---
Everyone ate and returned to work. However, there wasn't much that could be accomplished today.
Until the bridge was restored and all the accumulated debris cleared, full-scale reconstruction was impossible. For now, people could only feed the surviving livestock and retrieve whatever utensils remained from the damaged houses.
Meanwhile, women arrived from Blissbury.
"Eloise!"
"Mother!"
Mrs. Severton, breaking from the crowd, embraced her bedraggled daughter and burst into tears.
"Are you hurt? Are you all right?"
"Yes. Sergeant Thornton saved me at the very last moment. Oh, and what about Andrew? He must have been terribly frightened."
"Andrew is fine. Just a few scrapes on his leg. Of course, he wakes up scared—but at his age, children recover quickly. You can't imagine how difficult it was to persuade him not to come with us."
Mrs. Severton finally stopped weeping as she spoke of Andrew, then described the situation at Blissbury.
"It's complete chaos there as well. But fortunately, everyone worked hard, and this morning we more or less restored order. Oh—and we've contacted Cambon."
"And Cambon?"
"It's on higher ground, after all. The houses by the river were damaged, but most survived, so rebuilding shouldn't be too difficult. And they sent a great deal of bread and potatoes when they heard we needed provisions."
Eloise breathed a sigh of relief.
She understood Mrs. Parker's feelings.
After the celebration ended, she and her partner had cleaned the kitchen at Blissbury.
A substantial quantity of provisions purchased for the reception remained, so even with guests present, they had been confident they wouldn't need to order anything beyond essentials in the near future.
Mrs. Parker was one of those who believed that if a person missed even a single meal, the world would collapse.
And then suddenly all the people of Feltham had come flooding in—how desperate she must have been.
*It's fortunate Cambon is all right.*
A blessing within misfortune. If Cambon had suffered as badly, everyone would have been starving within days.
"We've also contacted those who evacuated west. They say everyone has settled in the Cambon Community Hall. We've compared the lists of those there with those at Blissbury—and fortunately, there are no missing or dead."
Having said this, Mrs. Severton crossed herself and offered a brief prayer of gratitude.
Everything was destroyed, but no one had perished—wasn't that a miracle?
After speaking at length about the others, Mrs. Severton—seeing that Ryan had gone off to assist elsewhere—took Eloise by the hand and led her into the house.
"Eloise, please don't hide anything. Tell me."
"Yes? Tell you what?"
Her mother's suddenly grave tone left her bewildered.
"I know you and Sergeant Thornton are... on good terms. So... perhaps... yesterday, when you were alone... Of course, I trust Sergeant Thornton, but sometimes, in desperate situations, people commit impulsive acts. So..."
Mrs. Severton stammered, unable to finish. Her expression showed how uncomfortable she was saying it aloud.
Seeing this, Eloise understood what her mother feared.
"Mother. There was nothing improper between Sergeant Thornton and me."
Eloise spoke plainly.
Relief appeared on Mrs. Severton's face at her daughter's decisive answer.
Eloise reassured her mother a while longer, then left the house. She touched her still-swollen lips.
There had been nothing improper.
There had only been two people who loved each other.
---
A week later, preliminary damage estimates from the downpour were released.
Ryan sat at the dinner table and reported on the regional situation he had learned of in Cambon.
"The affected areas turned out to be far larger than anticipated. Not just Feltham and Cambon, but also Dorset, Foy, Sellack, Lyford, and Leiderton. A total of two hundred and ten people have died. Over a thousand are missing. The number of injured is still being determined, but it's expected to exceed three thousand. And the number of destroyed houses is also still being counted, but..."
There was a heaviness in Ryan's voice.
"It's no exaggeration to say that half of Povent County has been washed away."
Everyone fell silent. Half the county had suffered from the downpour.
"The death toll will likely rise. Three bodies of Dorset residents were found near the South Bridge yesterday."
South of Blissbury stood a large stone bridge. This was the road leading farther south—a sturdy stone structure built at the same time as Blissbury.
This bridge had withstood the deluge.
Therefore, branches and debris carried by the floodwaters from upstream had accumulated beneath it.
If left uncleared, it would impede the current and strain the bridge.
So as soon as the water level dropped somewhat, people had immediately gone to clear the debris.
And among the branches, they had found bodies.
When the remains were brought in, all the Feltham residents at Blissbury removed their hats and bowed their heads in respect for the deceased.
The curtains in the rooms where children stayed were drawn so they could not see outside.
The remains of those swept away by floods were among the most horrific sights one could witness.
As the atmosphere at the table grew heavier, Ryan spoke again:
"That is why the royal family has decided to call this downpour the Great Povent Flood."
"Wait—then!"
Richard and Philip's faces brightened at Ryan's words.