With seven copper coins piled in his hand,
the noble Baron Thomas gives a smile.
What scheme is brewing? How will he expand
the three Estates that house his rank and file?
Perhaps he’ll march Militia to the field;
perhaps a Torturer to spread his curse?
A Moneylender’s usury to yield
more Gold and Silver for his endless purse?
No! Village, Smithy, Village, Smithy rise,
and Nobles, Nobles pour across the plain!
With little mercy – little less surprise –
a tide of action sweeps from his demesne...
Then sated, spent, and with an air of bonhomie,
Lord Thomas grins, and grabs himself a Colony.