“Is there going to be a war?”
“Who knows? So many Soldiers suddenly came.”
“The southern front hasn’t spread here yet~”
“Alright, stop grumbling, hurry up and run for your lives. The Fort will close soon and you won’t be able to get in.”
The farmers who were weeding their fields outside the Fort quickly threw down their tools and dashed towards Sap Fort.
About a mile outside Sap Fort, a team of black-clad Soldiers escorted five or six empty four-wheeled carriages, slowly approaching.
The lord of Sap was an old Baron named Galvin Hugh. Of course, being able to use the surname “Hugh” indicated that he was a distant branch of the Ivrea family, the royal family of Burgundy County. In the twenty years since inheriting the Baron title and the fertile territory of Sap from his old father, Baron Galvin had never participated in a major battle, except for following the County Magistrate in a few large-scale bandit exterminations. Every time his superior officers and liege lords demanded his military service, he would pay a hefty exemption fee to avoid it. Because he focused almost all his energy on trade, Baron Galvin’s territorial army had low combat effectiveness. Most of his Soldiers, except for a few used to guard the town, had become long-distance caravan guards. The only three Knights in his territory, like their liege lord, were skilled in business and not in warfare. Rather than Knights, they were more like merchants on horseback.
This peaceful land, rarely disturbed by outside invasions, found it difficult to cultivate brave warriors and heroes.
Baron Galvin, who had no battle experience, lacked the honor and bravery of a military noble, but he possessed a unique talent for managing his territory.
Sap was located thirty miles west of Ryan Village in a valley surrounded by mountains on its east, north, and west sides. It was the most fertile land in the western part of Tinietz County. From Sap, crossing the rolling hills that stretched for dozens of miles to the south led to the northern part of Provence. In recent years, Baron Galvin had fully utilized Sap’s advantageous location to trade goods with Provence. Sap became the wealthiest town in Tinietz County, and Baron Galvin was jokingly called the “Merchant Noble” by other nobles due to his exceptional talent in commerce.
However, this year, Baron Galvin no longer wore his usual smile.
In the summer of two years ago, Provence and Lombardy in the south began to fight. Galvin keenly spotted a huge business opportunity. He concluded that once war broke out, Provence would undoubtedly need a larger supply of grain. So, in the past year and a half, he planted nearly twice as much grain in his territory as in previous years, and indeed, he earned a considerable sum of money from it. However, last summer, several groups of bandits and robbers surged into the southern hilly region. Most of them were thugs and ruffians who had fled north from Provence, and under the leadership of some deserters, they occupied that hilly area. They not only plundered surrounding villages but also ambushed passing caravans.
The small trade route that spanned dozens of miles of hills was Galvin's main channel for transporting grain south. With the hilly trade route occupied by bandits, Galvin's neck was severely constricted, and hundreds of thousands of pounds of grain piled up and molded in the granaries of Sap Fort. In this chaotic world, possessing a large amount of grain was by no means something to celebrate. Since the autumn harvest last year, Baron Galvin had received countless letters requesting to “borrow grain,” some from various lords, some from Tinietz County, but more often from the swarming mountain bandits. Although Baron Galvin reinforced the town's walls and conscripted over twenty territorial farmers into the Fort Guard, he remained uneasy every day.
Such days only improved when an unfamiliar grain transport team arrived at Sap from the east.
Art and his Patrol Team were now hired as Baron Belian's grain escort team. After seeing Art's two dozen strong Soldiers, Baron Belian changed his decision to sporadically purchase grain throughout Tinietz. Instead, he brought twenty to thirty men with empty carts, crossed the rugged mountain roads, and entered Sap Fort. He knew that a large amount of grain was stockpiled there, and the local lord was unable to transport it out.
Upon their arrival at Sap Fort, the corpulent lord, Baron Lord Galvin, personally came out to greet them. “Lord Galvin, I didn’t expect you to return.”
“Indeed, Lord Galvin, didn’t you say there was no one to escort the grain? So, I brought my own Soldiers to escort the grain. Now you can rest assured and sell the grain to me, right?”
Lord Galvin smiled and led everyone into the Fort.
Although the walls of Sap Fort were also made of wood, compared to the dilapidated and impoverished Andermatt Fortress, they were “high walls and deep moats.” Baron Galvin knew that his wealth had been coveted by countless villains for a long time, so he spent a considerable amount of money to build the town’s wooden walls. The approximately thirty-foot-high Fort walls securely enclosed this small town with over a hundred households. Wooden arrow towers and watchtowers were built at the four corners of the Fort walls, and about forty guards and farmer-Soldiers manned the four sides of the Fort. There were also about twenty regular Soldiers inside the Fort. If one were to attempt a direct assault, it would likely cost hundreds of casualties. Inside the Fort, there was a three-story stone square tower with battlements and loopholes on its top. An iron-armed giant crossbow was mounted on the tower’s roof. Behind the square tower was a spacious lord’s private residence, which was also the most solemn and grand place in the entire Sap Fort. Most of the hundred or so civilian houses in the Fort were made of wood or stone, and the villagers had rosy complexions and strong bodies, presenting a prosperous scene.
“Galvin, it's clear you are a shrewd lord.” Art said to Baron Galvin, who was leading the way, as he walked on the hard dirt road of the town.
Baron Galvin turned to look at Art, who was dressed in a tight suit and wore a sword, and asked, “And you are?”
Baron Belian introduced him, “This is the Southern Border Patrol Officer of the Tinietz Court. He is leading the Soldiers to help me escort the grain this time.”
“Southern Border Patrol Officer? Could it be that you are Art Wood Wells?” Galvin recalled a sealed letter he had received from Tinietz last month.
“I remember now. Last month, a sealed letter came from the County, mentioning the Court’s Southern Border Patrol Officer for public security.”
“Patrol Officer, the letter said you are responsible for apprehending mountain bandits and maintaining public order. Sap Fort is very chaotic right now. Shouldn't you fulfill your duty and clear out the rampant mountain bandits in the southern hills?”
For Tinietz, Sap was a relatively isolated town due to the obstruction of the mountains, and outside information spread slowly. Therefore, Art did not cross the mountains to enter Sap Fort when he was collecting provisions.
“Galvin, since you have seen the letter from Tinietz, I presume you are also aware of the news that various regions need to pay a public security tax and provide supplies and military pay for the Patrol Team, correct?” Since he had come, Art had to collect the public security tax from Galvin. At this time, he would not care how high the other party’s noble title was, after all, he was an “official of the Court.”
As long as someone came to clear out the mountain bandits in the southern hills and clear the trade route from Sap to Provence, Galvin was very willing to pay a fee for it. “Art, are all those black-clad men outside the Fort your Soldiers?”
“Yes, they are all Soldiers of the Patrol Team.”
Galvin stopped, turned around, and stroked his plump chin, asking, “How much do you think is enough for you to reopen this trade route in the southern hills for me?”
—
“I wouldn’t do it for any amount of money!”
“I knew it, I still have to go back to Provence. No matter what, I shouldn’t have joined this Patrol Team. Tell me, how many times have we gone out in the past six months without some casualties? I escaped from Provence to avoid the war. I endured the daily training like an animal, and facing mortal danger from time to time was bad enough, but I never expected to have to go to the hotly contested Aosta now. Can I even come back if I go to Aosta?”
At the Patrol Team's temporary camp outside Sap Fort, two Patrol Team Soldiers were quietly arguing in a secluded spot. The Soldier unwilling to follow Art south was named Benson, one of the vagrants Art recruited in Tinietz last year. He was originally assigned to the land reclamation team but was later lured into the Patrol Team by the generous treatment offered to Patrol Team Soldiers. He fled alone from southern Provence to Burgundy to escape the war. He never expected that the small life he saved in Ars Fort would have to return to war-torn Aosta. He had already concluded that this trip was a one-way journey, so he wanted to persuade a good brother in the Patrol Team to escape into the mountains after dark.
“If you want to go, go. I don’t want to. I’m a Combat Squad Leader now. I eat and drink my fill every day, and I get a full salary. Why should I run away? It’s dangerous here. Will it be safe if I escape? Try escaping. There are plenty of mountain bandits and marauders outside, sharpening their swords and waiting for you.” The other Soldier flatly refused Benson’s instigation.
Benson stood up and growled in a low, furious voice, “Fine, you go follow him south then. Don’t regret your foolish decision today when you die in battle.”
Benson pointed to a dense forest near the camp and said, “I’ll find a chance to slip away after dinner. If you want to escape with me, I’ll wait for you in that forest for a while.”
“You go by yourself. Don’t wait for me. You’d better escape before everyone finds out, or else you won’t just be getting a few beatings.”
While arguing intently in the secluded spot, the two did not notice a blond cook squatting in the nearby bushes, relieving himself.
...
“What? That Bastard!! I knew he seemed off these past two days. Does Galvin know about this?” Odo, who was trying to write his name in the common script in the military tent, heard Spencer’s report, and anger flared in his heart.
Ever since Art announced that the Patrol Team would escort military provisions south with a Baron from Provence, this Soldier named Benson had seemed somewhat anxious and uneasy. On the march, he always found various excuses to leave the team. It turned out he had been harboring ill intentions all along.
Odo leaned in and whispered to Spencer, “Don’t spread this matter for now. We’ll handle it this way…”
As night fell, the inviting aroma of meat porridge drifted from the Patrol Team’s camp. Spencer, the newly appointed “Kitchen Steward,” was breaking pieces of rye bread into a deep copper pot.
Several veteran Patrol Team Soldiers sat around the bonfire in front of Spencer, laughing loudly. “Tell me, Spencer, why were you so willing to be a cook back then?”
Spencer felt no shame at the old Soldiers' sarcasm, and with a fawning expression, he said, “Why? Because I’m afraid of death and tired, of course. We train like animals every day, and we're constantly facing the danger of dying in battle. Which time did we go out without a few brothers dying or getting wounded? I couldn’t stand the training and the constant danger to my life, so I willingly became a cook. If you ask me, who knows how many people will return alive to Valley Wood Fort after this trip south…”
Just as the few men were loudly chatting around the bonfire, Odo, the Deputy Captain and military judge of the Patrol Team, walked up to the bonfire and loudly reprimanded, “Spencer, you Bastard, how dare you disrupt morale in the army? Do you want to die?”
The few old Soldiers around the bonfire quickly scattered in fright. Spencer was also dragged by Odo from the bonfire to an open space in the camp. Odo sternly asked, “Spencer, you have already been punished by Galvin to be a cook because you feared the hardship of training. Do you still want Galvin to personally chop off your head?”
Spencer lay on the ground, indignantly replying, “Officer Odo, if I had known that joining the Patrol Team would eventually mean returning to Provence, I would never have done it. I was just a peddler’s apprentice, and I fled to a foreign land to escape the war. Ever since I joined the Patrol Team, it’s either been training like an animal every day or constantly risking my life accompanying Galvin on patrols. Last time at Ars Fort, I almost lost my life, and now I have to go to the hotly contested Aosta. Aosta has become hell, countless people die every day. Who isn’t afraid!”
Odo casually pulled a piece of firewood from the bonfire and fiercely beat Spencer with it. Sparks flew from the half-burning firewood as Odo swung it. Soldiers in the camp, who were preparing for dinner, gathered around. Spencer on the ground was already rolling around, and the firewood in Odo’s hand had broken into several pieces.
The onlookers were also greatly frightened by Odo.
Only when Spencer on the ground stopped moving did Odo throw away the firewood stick in his hand, turn to the surrounding Soldiers, and shout loudly, “Listen up, all of you. I’m giving you another chance now. If anyone still finds the training hard or fears death or injury in battle, step forward immediately. I can ask Galvin to allow you to take off your armor and weapons, leave the Patrol Team, leave Valley Wood Fort, and fend for yourselves.”
A silence fell over the surroundings.
A Soldier in the crowd was about to speak, but the person next to him immediately stopped him.
“I’ll ask you one more time, does anyone want to leave the Patrol Team?” Odo’s roar sounded again.
After a long pause, no one spoke.
“No one, right? Good. Since no one wants to leave, then stay in the army and focus. It’s true that our Patrol Team’s training is tough and we constantly face mortal danger, but think about it, in this chaotic world, where is truly safe? And which lord is willing to provide enough food and generous pay every day for the Soldiers who risk their lives for him? Many of you were vagrants on the verge of collapsing on the road to escape half a year ago, or mine slaves toiling under others’ servitude every day. But what about now? You eat your fill all day, and your money pouches have never been so full. Why do you enjoy such excellent treatment? It’s because you can endure hardships that ordinary people cannot, it’s because you fight with your lives…”
...
“Odo, you handled it very well. This should have some effect, but it cannot completely cure the resentment and fear in the Soldiers’ hearts. However, we don’t have the energy to deal with these things for now. You must keep a close eye on that Soldier. Once he deserts, immediately execute military law. When necessary, we can make an example of him to show them that the Patrol Team is not a place where you can come and go as you please.” Art’s eyes gleamed with strong killing intent.
“How is that beaten cook, by the way?”
“Galvin, he’s fine. We were just putting on a show for the Soldiers, so it looked like a devastating blow, but we didn’t use any real force.”
“Alright, Odo, we’ll rest here for a day tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, we’ll escort the grain to Provence…”