Under the setting sun, the village of Verde, which had been washed away by war, looked particularly desolate.
Many cunning crows lingered above the village and chirped. From time to time they would land on the corpses piled up in the open space next to the village and take a few bites. They would then fly away quickly when someone approached.
"These evil birds that deserve to be struck by thousands of thunders are really annoying." A militiaman with messy hair and a tired face and another companion placed the last corpse on the grass, stood up and chased away the other dead people who were pecking away. The messenger who announces the corpse of a soldier.
"Village Chief, how many people did we lose this time?" Although Simon really didn't want to face this sad number, he knew that what was coming would always come, and it was better to have a short-term pain than a long-term pain.
"My Lord..." The village chief raised his head and looked at Simon, his gray-blue eyes filled with hesitation.
"Tell me, I'm not the kind of person who will take out his temper on others casually." Simon knew as soon as he saw the village chief's expression that the casualties might be more severe than he expected.
Indeed, after this war, Simon no longer saw many of the familiar faces and figures he had trained with day and night.
"Okay, sir, nineteen people in the militia have died, and two people are seriously injured and they look like they can't survive. Now there are only fourteen people in the entire militia, including those with minor injuries, who can fight," the village chief said, his voice a little loud. Trembling, "Five archers died. Now there are only six people in the archer team, including Bill."
"Damn it!" Simon clenched his fists and frowned.
"In addition, my master," the village chief pursed his lips and said slowly, "we also have six villagers who rushed to support when the fort gate was about to be breached. One villager who jumped from the fort wall to escape fell to his death. , and seven or eight others were injured after falling."
Simon just listened quietly and said nothing. After a while, Simon picked up his oak wine glass and walked to the wine barrel where the trophies were piled. He scooped up a glass of red wine and drank it in one gulp.
"Calculate the specific list of dead and injured people and give it to Hoffman. He knows how to do it. By the way, also compile the list of those who want rewards, including those farmers who stood up in front of the fort gate."
At this moment, a Dorsten noble cavalryman staggered away from the hilly road of the wooden castle, wearing soft armor lined with wine and oil stains, and holding a large glass of beer in his dirt-covered hands. come over.
"Xi, Master Simon, Master Keoser asked me to come and invite you to celebrate together." The drunken cavalryman's tongue was a little knotted.
"Of course, I'll come right away." Simon nodded to the village chief and walked towards the wooden castle with heavy steps.
…………
The hunting villa in the wooden castle, or the lord's villa, was filled with joy at this time.
The old baron, Sir Lange, Jonas and the noble cavalry devoured roasted venison and white bread made of fine flour, which was charred and oily, exuding a charming aroma and heat, and drank delicious red wine. , chatting loudly under the firelight of the fireplace, occasionally bursting into bursts of hearty laughter.
"Another apple pie!" Jonas grabbed a hot apple pie with his dirty hands and put it directly into his mouth to chew.
At this time, the wooden door of the villa was suddenly opened. Jonas, who was sitting near the door, felt a cold wind whistling from the cold world outside the door and going straight into his collar, making him tremble. A shiver.
"My God, who is it? Hurry up and close that damn door for me," Jonas turned his head impatiently. After seeing the person who came in, his expression froze instantly, and then he showed a forced smile, "Oh? It's Master Simon. Please forgive me for being rude. I don't know why that damn Alger didn't call out loudly before you came in. It made me think it was that rude and clumsy cook again."
"I'm afraid he was so drunk that he couldn't even pronounce his own name," Simon glanced at the cavalryman who was following behind and started talking to himself so drunk that he said coldly, "You haven't heard of any nobleman either. Did you call out your name before entering the door?"
"Of course not, oh! I mean, please take a seat, dear Master Simon, the seat in front is specially reserved for you." Jonas also began to stutter a little under the influence of alcohol, but he always Maintaining a surface level of respect and awe for Simon.
"Come here, my son," the old Baron Keother waved to Simon and motioned for Simon to sit next to him, "Today is a day worth celebrating. I really don't know what troubles make you so depressed."
"Alas," Simon sighed and sat down next to Keoser. "My soldiers and villagers suffered heavy casualties, but I haven't thought of any good way to supplement the militia and the dead and wounded serfs."
Indeed, in this barbaric era, not only were the distances between villages very far, but the population in the villages was also very sparse compared to later generations.
The best way to obtain more population and labor is to find a reason to launch a private war against other territories, plunder the other territory's population and wealth, and capture a large number of slaves and prisoners of war.
But after Simon's battle with the Vikings, it was difficult for the remaining soldiers to provoke another foreign war.
To take a step back, if Simon attacks a small knight-dominated village or small fief somewhere and plunders a group of young and strong men, there will not be enough time to train these young and strong men before the revenge of the other lord comes. Qualified soldiers resist enemy attacks.
"Aha, is that the problem?" Old Baron Cooser laughed, took a sip of red wine, and patted Simon on the shoulder, "You don't have to worry at all, those farmers are just like the hares in the forest, they reproduce. Your abilities are astonishing, and within a few years, there will be many strong young men in your village."
"That would take too long. I may not be able to wait that long," Simon shook his head. "I urgently need the population to train a new group of soldiers and archers to protect my wooden fort and my trophies."
"Master Simon, if you feel that such a large amount of loot is easily coveted, why not give half of it to your monarch, Lord Keose." Jonas' harsh voice reached the ears of the two of them at an inappropriate time.
"Shut up!" Old Baron Keother glared at Jonas, who was flushed with alcohol. "How could I possibly do something like this, let alone my dearest child Simon. Simon has grown up. Yes, I believe he has his own ideas and thoughts on how to dispose of his own trophies, and it is not for you to dictate here."
Jonas simply wants Simon to pay half of the loot for a "sky-high protection fee" in exchange for the old Baron Keother to mobilize a group of soldiers from Dorstenberg - Simon's most urgently needed defense force now - to garrison the village of Verde.
Thanks to the very good relationship between Simon and his father before, Keoser did not use coercion or make Simon spit out the spoils in the form of unequal exchange of benefits.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, my lord, please forgive your stupid and most loyal servant who often says wrong things. It must be the damn alcohol that caused the trouble." Jonas looked like a man in a tavern. The drunkard spoke slowly with a red neck and a strong smell of alcohol.
"I hope so." Old Baron Keother frowned and said nothing more. Simon, on the other hand, squinted his eyes warily and carefully looked at Jonas, who was trying to sow discord between father and son. He didn't know whether he was really drunk or pretending to be drunk.
For a moment, the atmosphere in the lord's mansion was a little awkward. In addition to the crackling sound of firewood in the fireplace, the sizzling sound of everyone chewing barbecue, the sizzling sound of Sir Lang playing with the empty oak wine glass in his hand, and the faint snoring sound of Jonas drunk on the table, There was no other sound.
"Phew," after another glass of red wine, the old baron wiped his beard stained with wine beads with his hand, "Simon, I forgot to mention that you may have the opportunity to capture a large number of slaves soon."
"Oh?" Simon became interested, chewed the roast meat in his mouth quickly, and swallowed it, "What chance?"
"Earl Berg invited all his vassals to the banquet this time. It is very likely that he is planning to use force against Earl Loon on the other side of the river." Old Baron Cooser said playfully.
"But this is just our guess." Sir Lang put down his glass and added.
"It's interesting." Simon nodded thoughtfully.
