"Woo~wu~"
The long horn sound came faintly from the west direction of Lohausen Village, and the village fell into disorder and chaos.
The businessmen packed their luggage in a panic, hitched up their trailers, and headed towards the narrow village gate. The villagers who were recruited by the lord's men by ringing the bell ran towards the armory next to the lord's tower with tension and uneasiness.
"Hey, catch him!" Amidst the chaos, a cry came from the butcher shop in the village.
A thin and agile figure rushed out of the butcher's shop, holding several large pieces of smoked pork and venison in his arms, and soon merged into the crowd of people on the road out of the village.
Behind him was the butcher, holding a cleaver and rushing out of the stone shop, but he stumbled. When he raised his head again, the damn thief was gone.
Most of the guards in the village were on the village wall or maintaining order at the village gate. Therefore, robberies like this were common in the village. Most of them were done by mercenaries, strangers and ruffians in the tavern.
"Hell, hell, hell, Count Loon and his locust army should go to where they should go - hell, not me!" The curses and mutterings in Sir Favre's mouth stopped after the alarm bell rang. When he stopped, the woman he had just had a rough time with was busy with another maid helping him put on his armor.
"Be gentle Venya, you stupid bitch, I might die by your stupid hands instead of the enemy's sword!"
Sir Favre had a bad temper, which became worse when he was nervous. At this moment, he was trying to dispel the uneasiness and fear in his heart by cursing the maid who had just tied his hatband too hard.
The dark sky outside the tower made the light in the room extremely dim. Some of the hay on the ground rotted due to moisture, exuding an unpleasant smell. This can make people in a room who are already in a bad mood even worse.
"Who told you, a fat pig, to only eat meat, drink alcohol, and have fun every day? Look at your double chin that is almost as big as my breasts. Everyone in the tower knows that Vinia didn't do it on purpose!"
On the other side of the room, a plump old woman wearing a crimson aristocratic dress bent down and anxiously packed away the gold and silver items in the box, while scolding Sir Favre, her husband, with a fierce look on her face.
"Elona, you still have the nerve to accuse me, my God, who doesn't know that a large part of my territory's income has been squandered by you? New dresses, jewelry to match the new dresses, horses, servants, everything is the same !You know, I could have used this money to strengthen the defense of the territory."
Sir Favre turned around and roared at the dark red figure beside the box with wide eyes.
"Ha, dear, I admit that I did spend some money, but it is far less exaggerated than what you said. Since you care so much about our territory, then why don't you spend the money you spent on having fun on strengthening defenses? above?"
The quarrel between the two became more and more intense. Sir Favre was so angry that he trembled, and his white fat flesh also trembled with it, which frightened the two maids beside him into even more confusion.
………………
"Drive! Get out of the way, get out of my way!"
An extremely urgent sound of horses was heard at the entrance of the village. The merchants and villagers crowded together hurriedly to avoid, and under the scolding of the village guard, the horse riders made way for a gap that led directly to the lord's tower.
The horse rider was wearing a blue-dyed armor, the same color as Sir Feifre's family crest. It seemed that he was Sir Feifre's squire.
"Take him to the stable, but you don't need to take off the reins and saddle." The attendant got off the horse, handed the reins to the groom, and hurried towards the tower.
The arrival of the attendant interrupted the "war" between the Feifre couple. Feifre set his sights on the young man who had just come in, hoping that he could bring back some good news.
"How's it going, Frazee?"
"It's far worse than we imagined. Unfortunately, my lord, I think we have to prepare to escape. There are many people in the count of Loon. Taking advantage of the break of rain and snow, I went to the hills of Oran From the top, I saw their army coming from the ferry on the main road, God bless, it was as long as a poisonous snake, and it could not be seen to the end!"
The attendant's frightened eyes and narration did not seem to be false. Of course, he did not have any motive or courage to lie to Sir Favre at this time.
This caused Sir Feifre to fall into a period of deep hesitation and entanglement.
"What on earth are you thinking? Do you think that the strength of our territory alone can resist their footsteps? My dear God, this is no different from the woodcutter Ruhe's kid who tried to defeat an armed man by himself. A Norman pirate with teeth is ridiculous!”
Lady Ilona's chattering started again, which made Sir Favre's anger suddenly rise again: "Shut up, are you stupid enough to think that everything must be resolved through war?"
"So, I guess you want to compromise with Count Loon and beg him to spare you, right?" Lady Ilona sharply pointed out Sir Feifre's attempt.
"There is nothing that we cannot sit down and talk about. I can agree to some conditions in exchange for Count Loon choosing to bypass our village instead of attacking it. If they attack us, they will gain nothing and will lose part of it. strength. And by letting us go, not only will there be no casualties, but we can also gain concessions in our interests. I believe Count Loon is a smart man."
After hearing Sir Favre's analysis, Lady Ilona was so angry that she laughed.
"It seems that your mind has been deceived by those damn wild women, so you would say such stupid things. You think too highly of us. If Count Loon is willing to negotiate with us, he will not do anything. Destroy our outpost at the ferry without warning and kill our scouts. Our military strength is nothing in front of him. If the price of peace is that you hand over everything in this land, will you agree?"
Sir Favre calmed down as if a bucket of ice water was poured from his head to the soles of his feet. He felt as if he were in an ice cellar.
"At least we still have a chance to leave with most of the property and loyal private soldiers. If that happens, there may be only two options before you - accept conditions that you absolutely cannot accept, or choose die."
Sir Favre was really scared now. If the conditions proposed by Count Loon were unacceptable to him, then the situation would be too passive, and he would have absolutely no chance of defeating the incoming army.
"Okay, Frazee, let the servants pack their things now, and we will set off immediately." Sir Favre was extremely frustrated. He spoke to the attendant Frazee with difficulty, and the sweat on his head dripped from his forehead. It flowed down the cheek and into the collar of the armor.
………………………
The wind and snow stopped, and the long-lost sunshine once again shone on the white earth.
Sir Favre and his family had already left with the valuables in the tower and a few private soldiers on horseback, but now there are still many villagers and businessmen pouring out at the village gate, heading towards The road to the town of Dusseldorf goes by in a hurry.
At this moment, a group of scouts riding horses and wearing light armor appeared on the main road at the junction of the forest and farmland in the west of Lohausen Village.
"Hey, look at those cowards pushing the cart so hard, I bet they're not working as hard in bed with their wives at night!"
A young scout carrying a shield with the family crest of Earl Loon on his back, wearing a felt hat, armed clothing and a leather jacket pointed at the merchants pushing carts on the road in the distance, and made vulgar jokes with his companions.
"Hahahahahaha!"
"In this case, seeing how hard they are working, let's go and help them!" A scout with a stubble on his face spat out the yellow foxtail in his mouth and raised the reins.
"Don't forget that we have to go back and report the news to the Earl." A timid voice came from the mouth of a young man at the end of the team. His face was covered with pimples and pimples.
"Then go ahead, fearful Genel. Now, let us go and help our friends!" The scout who had just made a joke glanced at the young man with disdain, then tightened his grip on the lance in his hand, and clamped He grabbed the horse's belly and rushed out.
"Kill!"
"kill!"
More than twenty scouts rode horses across the grassland and farmland in no particular order, leaving ugly marks on the snow, and rushed towards the panicked villagers and businessmen on the road outside the village.
For a moment, the dull sound of horseshoes clattering surrounded the village, accompanied by people screaming and running away, as if Satan and his followers appeared in the world.
The ground was shaking slightly, and many villagers and vendors ran off the road and fled into the fields on the roadside, trying to rush into the forest on the edge of the farmland.
Some more experienced traveling merchants stopped their horses and hid behind the carriages calmly.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!"
"oh!"
"Oh, God."
"Oh no!"
The scouts holding lances cut the fleeing team alive like a hot dagger cutting through butter.
The scouts avoided the carriage. Many vendors and villagers running around were knocked out by the scout's horses and were as fragile as hemp poles.
The scouts did not choose to hold their lances under their arms while charging. Because in their opinion, it is simply not cost-effective to break a spear for a life that is lower than a wild dog.
Therefore, the strategy adopted by the scouts was to charge on horseback to knock down the refugees, and then use their spears to harvest them one by one.
In this way, some of the knocked down villagers and traders thought they were lucky to have escaped the fatal blow. They raised their heads in vain, but their throats and hearts were pierced by spears.
The warm blood dyed the snow a brutal and bloody dark red, which looked very scary.
Among the refugees, some revolting conscripts ran toward the scouts with spears in their hands, but the leader of the scouts cleverly blew a small horn to gather his troops, distanced himself from the refugee team, and prepared for another charge.
Soon, Count Loon's scouts regrouped on the grass. They let out a loud war cry and launched a second charge towards the refugees.
"God save us, I don't want to die!" Several conscripted soldiers holding spears were frightened and screamed, turned around and ran away.
They have now been abandoned by the lord, and there is no one with authority to organize them to form a formation to fight the enemy, so it is normal for them to lose their morale and flee in defeat.
But at this moment, among the turbulent crowd, an old man wearing a nose helmet thrust his crooked spear firmly into the soil and pointed it in the direction of the scout's attack.
"Ahhh!"
"dear God......"
"Pfft!"
There is no doubt that the second charge was tantamount to another massacre. Blood splashed in the crowd, and residual limbs and human organs were flying everywhere. The bloodthirsty laughter of the scouts and the painful cries of the refugees formed a sharp contrast.
However, unlike the first charge, there were casualties among the scouts in the second charge.
The tip of the spear that the old conscript had stuck in the soil penetrated directly into the body of the traveling horse under the crotch of the scout who was running toward him at high speed, making a snapping sound.
The scout fell to the ground with his horse and man, and then the old man who rushed up hugged his head and cut off his trachea with a dagger, causing blood foam to continuously gush out from the corners of his mouth.
"You damn old thing!"
"go to hell!"
Seeing that their companions were killed, the surrounding scouts were furious. They ignored the refugees scurrying in front of them and immediately drove their horses in the direction of the old conscript.
Under the siege of everyone, the gray beard of the old conscript was soaked with blood, and there were several blood holes on his body that were bleeding. He fell to the ground with lifeless eyes, but his eyes were filled with the pride of revenge.
"Duwu..."
Another long blast of horn sounded. The scouts recognized that it was the horn blown by Count Loon's private soldiers.
The leading scout, who was stained by the blood of the refugees and became a "bloody man", wiped the blood on his face, raised his head, and looked towards the direction of the village.
At this time, the vast farmland covered with silvery white snow in front of Lohausen Village had turned into a black mass.
Group after group of soldiers emerged from the road at the edge of the forest, and then gathered in the grassy fields under the organization of their respective lords.
Thick smoke rose from several low-rise houses in the village wall, followed by begging for mercy and the screams of women.
It seems that some lucky ones have taken the lead in attacking the village and are beginning to enjoy the fruits of their victory.
