Two weeks later - First day of field implementation
Dawn painted the experimental fields gold as Ptolemy arrived to find over thirty farmers gathered, their faces mixing curiosity with skepticism. Throughout the morning, he'd noticed something troubling foreign merchants hovering around the edges of their group, taking notes and asking casual questions about planting techniques.
"Your Highness," Khaemwaset called, approaching with a weather-beaten farmer whose calloused hands spoke to decades of field work. "This is Seneb, who manages the largest experimental section. He has... concerns."
[Divine Appraisal - Active] Seneb: Age 51, Master Farmer. Disposition: Deeply skeptical (45/100). Hidden trait: Lost significant crops to flooding last season. Primary fear: Royal promises disappearing after harvest failure.
"Seneb," Ptolemy said warmly, extending his hand in the Egyptian manner rather than expecting a formal bow. "I'm honored to work with someone of your experience."
The gesture surprised the farmer, who clasped Ptolemy's hand firmly. "Your Highness talks different than other royals."
"Tell me your concerns with these new methods."
Seneb's weathered face hardened. "Your Highness wants me to plant beans where grain should grow. My family doesn't eat pretty theories about soil strength. We eat bread."
Blunt and practical. Exactly what Ptolemy needed to address.
"Fair point. We're not replacing your grain crops we're testing whether rotating legumes between grain seasons produces better total harvests over two years."
"And when the legumes die and my family starves?"
"The crown compensates you for what grain would have produced, plus payment for labor." Ptolemy met the farmer's hard stare. "But Seneb, what do your worst plots yield now?"
The older man's shoulders sagged. "Maybe thirty percent of good fields. Last season's flooding..."
"So we're improving land that already fails. Success brings real gains. Failure costs nothing you don't already lose."
"Hm." Seneb grunted noncommittally, but his skepticism was shifting.
"The young prince makes sense," called Itet, whose small plot had been devastated by irrigation problems. "My worst sections grow nothing anyway."
"But what if these foreign methods ruin even our good land?" another farmer shouted. "We've farmed here since our grandfathers' grandfathers!"
The crowd murmured agreement. This was the real resistance not just economic fear, but cultural suspicion of change.
"These aren't foreign methods," Ptolemy replied. "They're improvements to what you already do. Some farmers rest fields between seasons. Some rotate crops by necessity. I've studied which combinations work best."
Not entirely truthful, but not false either.
"Studies where?" Seneb pressed. "You're thirteen years old, Your Highness."
Direct challenge. The kind that could undermine everything if handled poorly.
"Studies of provincial reports from across Egypt," Ptolemy said honestly. "Patterns emerge when you examine what successful farmers do differently."
He felt the mental warmth that indicated gaining influence, but kept his expression focused on the farmers rather than acknowledging the system's reward.
"Your Highness," Khaemwaset stepped forward diplomatically, "perhaps we should demonstrate the methods so farmers can see them directly."
"Excellent idea."
They moved to prepared plots, where Ptolemy knelt to plant seeds with his own hands rather than directing from a distance. Around him, several farmers knelt to examine his techniques.
*edited*
"We plant legumes in designated sections," he explained, showing the seed spacing. "These plants feed the soil with invisible nourishment—they actually strengthen earth for next season's grain."
"Looks like normal bean planting to me," Seneb observed skeptically.
"The spacing pattern maximizes soil contact," Ptolemy continued, "and these drainage channels prevent flooding."
As the morning progressed, farmer skepticism gradually shifted toward cautious interest. The methods weren't radical just more organized versions of familiar techniques.
But then the first problem emerged.
"Your Highness!" Itet called urgently from her experimental plot. "Something's wrong with the seeds!"
Ptolemy hurried over, his stomach sinking as he saw what she meant. In one section of freshly planted legumes, the seeds were already showing signs of rot black spots spreading across seed hulls, with several failing to germinate entirely.
[Divine Appraisal - Active] Problem Identified: Soil pH too acidic for selected legume variety. Seeds rotting before germination. Affects approximately 15% of experimental plots.
Damn. The system knowledge hadn't accounted for local soil variations.
"What's happening, Your Highness?" Seneb demanded, striding over with several other farmers. "Your special methods killing seeds before they grow?"
The accusation hung heavy in the morning air. Ptolemy could feel farmer confidence wavering as they examined the rotting seeds.
"Soil chemistry problem," he said honestly, his mind racing through solutions. "This particular legume variety requires different soil conditions than I calculated."
"So your theories were wrong," another farmer said bluntly.
"Partially wrong," Ptolemy acknowledged, refusing to deflect blame. "Which means we adjust methods based on actual results."
He knelt beside the failed plots, examining the affected soil carefully. The system knowledge provided the answer, but he needed to present it as logical deduction.
"The soil here is more acidic than other sections. These legumes prefer neutral conditions." He looked up at the watching farmers. "We need to either modify soil chemistry or select different plants for acidic areas."
"How?" Itet asked, her earlier enthusiasm dampened by the failure.
"Wood ash from cooking fires raises soil pH. Mixed properly into the earth, it should neutralize the acidity." Ptolemy stood, brushing dirt from his hands. "Or we plant clover instead of beans in acidic sections clover tolerates acid soil better."
Seneb was studying him with sharp attention. "Your Highness admits mistakes and offers solutions. That's... unexpected."
"Mistakes teach us what works and what doesn't. The goal is better harvests, not perfect theories."
Around them, farmers were nodding slowly. His honest acknowledgment of failure, combined with practical solutions, seemed to increase rather than decrease their confidence.
But Ptolemy felt the sting of imperfection. Not everything would go smoothly, even with system assistance.
By midday, the experimental plots buzzed with adjusted activity. Farmers worked alongside royal engineers installing drainage, while others replanted failed sections with wood ash amendments or different crop varieties.
"Your Highness," Apollodoros approached with a concerning scroll. "Urgent message from Alexandria. Those foreign merchants asking questions? They're specifically inquiring about purchasing samples of any new seed varieties."
The threat crystallized. Rome wasn't just watching they were actively trying to acquire Egyptian innovations.
"How detailed were their questions?"
"Very specific. Crop rotation patterns, soil preparation, irrigation improvements. Someone's providing them intelligence about our work here."
Ptolemy felt urgency spike. Roman acquisition could neutralize Egyptian advantages before they could be proven.
"We need faster implementation. If Rome gets these techniques before we demonstrate effectiveness..."
"They eliminate our advantage," Apollodoros finished. "How quickly can we show results?"
"Six weeks for soil improvement, two months for harvest yields." Ptolemy calculated rapidly. "But we need expanded adoption now, before Roman copying gives them time to perfect our methods."
Looking around at farmers working enthusiastically despite the morning's setback, Ptolemy felt cautious optimism.
"Governor, they're not just following orders. They're genuinely engaged."
Apollodoros followed his gaze. Throughout experimental areas, farmers examined improvements, discussed techniques, and compared methods with obvious professional interest.
"The seed failure actually helped," the governor observed with surprise. "Seeing you admit mistakes and adjust course made them trust you more."
"Because the methods make practical sense, not just royal sense." Ptolemy smiled, feeling genuine connection with people whose livelihoods depended on his success. "Seneb, how do the techniques feel after this morning's adjustments?"
The master farmer looked up from installing drainage channels, his skepticism replaced by focused interest. "Your Highness, if these systems work as designed, they solve problems we've fought for decades."
"And the crop rotation, even with the soil chemistry issues?"
"Still strange to plant legumes instead of grain," Seneb admitted honestly, "but your willingness to fix mistakes when they happen... that builds confidence."
As afternoon shadows lengthened, Ptolemy surveyed the transformed plots with mixed feelings. Success was building, but the seed failure reminded him that even system knowledge had limitations. Real implementation required constant adjustment and honest problem-solving.
The Roman intelligence gathering added pressure to everything. Success needed to be dramatic and fast, before foreign acquisition neutralized Egyptian advantages.
The foundation was solid, but imperfect. Exactly like real agricultural innovation should be.