Chapter 28: Recruiting Soldiers

Early spring, the weather was still caught in the transition between warmth and lingering chill.

In the northern reaches of Provence, within the city of Kitzbühel—a major commercial hub at the foot of Mount Carmel—Yat had just emerged from the city clerk’s office. He had spent ten copper pennies to procure a document permitting him to recruit caravan guards outside the city walls.

Yat gave his orders to Odo and the other three men waiting in the foyer: "Take the document and circle the city walls. Tell the refugees about our recruitment. Just repeat these few sentences: 'This afternoon, we are recruiting caravan guards at the North Gate. Those who pass the initial screening will receive two pounds of barley. Those finally selected as guards will be provided with food, lodging, and a wage.'"

Receiving their orders, the men hurried to the various gates, roaming the shanties along the walls to spread the word.

***

By that afternoon, several large sacks of grain were piled onto a wooden platform used for executions outside the North Gate. Odo stood on the platform, gazing out at the dense crowd before him. There were over a hundred people, and more continued to gather from all directions.

Odo glanced at Yat, who nodded to signal the start.

Drawing on his experience from recruiting refugees in Tyniec, Odo spoke with practiced ease, his voice ringing out in a Common tongue tinged with a northern accent: "Everyone, quiet down! Quiet down!"

Once the crowd settled, he continued, "I assume you have all heard that we are recruiting caravan guards, but there are conditions for this selection."

Odo paused for effect.

"First, our caravan is heading to the northern County of Burgundy, where we may have to fight bandits and robbers. Second, we prefer able-bodied men under the age of thirty. Third, a caravan guard must be decisive; therefore, unless you are exceptionally brave, we are not hiring those with families. If you meet these criteria, come up and try. Pass my test, and you take two pounds of barley. Pass the test of my brothers beside me, and you take ten pounds. Those who pass both will stay for a final competition. If you lose that, you still take your ten pounds of grain and leave, but the winners will be selected by my master. If you are chosen, you will come with us. We guarantee you food, clothing, and a wage of at least ten pennies a week. If you distinguish yourself in the future, the master will provide additional rewards. Gentlemen, if you want your free grain, hurry up!"

The crowd murmured. Most of those lingering were young, able-bodied men; the old and infirm had already lost interest upon hearing the nature of the work.

Seeing the crowd hesitant, Odo added, "You may not believe it, but a few months ago, my brothers and I were just laborers and drifters. Look at us now. We eat and dress well every day. Look at these cloaks we’re wearing—don’t they look impressive?"

Odo signaled to Ron, who stepped onto the platform. Speaking in a pure Provençal accent, Ron shouted to the crowd, "Everything my brother said is true. I was the son of a farmer near Verno. Last autumn, my family fled north to the County of Burgundy. We nearly starved on the road, but our master was kind enough to save us, and I became his attendant. Since following him, I’ve never gone hungry; I have bread and meat broth every day. And the master pays me on time. My whole family survived, and we are living quite well."

Hearing the familiar local accent and seeing the young man in his impressive black cloak, the crowd felt a stir of longing.

Ron struck while the iron was hot: "Especially you men who are alone—what do you have left? No food, no drink, just your lives. Why not show some courage and take a gamble with us? Our master is only hiring ten men. If you keep hesitating like women, you won't get a chance."

The crowd stirred. A man pushed through and squeezed to the front, saying, "I’ll try. I’m taking that grain today."

He jumped onto the platform and stood before Odo. "Brother, see if I qualify?"

Odo gauged him—likely over thirty, but sturdy. He squeezed the man’s waist and shoulders; the bones were thick and the skin tough. Odo asked if he had any dependents. The man said he was alone. Finding him robust and free of the usual shiftiness, Odo cleared the way for him to the next test.

***

Ron, sitting behind a battered table, said to the man, "Choose one of us three to arm-wrestle. If you can hold out for thirty seconds without being pinned, or if you can pin them, you win."

The man looked them over and picked the sturdiest, Bas.

Bas rolled up his sleeves, placed his thick right arm on the table, and said, "Come on, like a man."

The man looked at the crowd, sat down across from Bas, and locked hands. Their arms began to tremble.

"One, two, three... fifteen, sixteen," Ron counted loudly.

"Twenty-three..."

*Thwack!* Bas exerted force and slammed the man’s hand onto the table.

Bas patted the man on the shoulder and said, "Brother, take your grain and go home."

Ron scooped two large bowls of hulled barley from a barrel into the man’s shirt. The man left, looking regretful.

Seeing the first man actually received the grain, a younger man jumped onto the platform and passed Odo’s first test easily.

In the second round, he chose Ron. Instead of using brute force like the previous man, he held his ground, locking with Ron for thirty seconds. Although he was eventually pinned, he passed the second stage.

The young man approached Yat, knowing he was the master. He bowed.

Yat looked him over: under twenty, lean, with hollowed eyes.

"What is your name? What did you do before?" Yat asked.

"My name is Jason Fleming, sir. Seventeen. I’m the son of a hunter from the southern foot of the Ramel Mountains. Last autumn, a knight took my father and me to defend Verno. My father was killed, and I escaped alone."

"Can you use a bow?"

"I learned as a child, but my father said a hunter’s life is like a beast’s, so he sent me to serve a knight. I haven’t used one since."

"We are going to fight bandits. Do you dare risk your life with me?"

"As long as you feed me and pay me on time, I dare!" Jason replied.

***

"Good. Go rest for a while; we'll hold the final competition once everyone is ready."

Jason walked off the platform and waited patiently by the carriage.

The two-stage selection lasted half the afternoon. As the sun set behind the hills, a group of strong, solitary men stood by the carriage.

The recruitment ended. Nearly seventy had applied; fifty passed the first stage, and twenty passed the second. Yat only intended to select ten, and he preferred not to recruit too many from one location.

The onlookers had not dispersed; in this season where the winter chill still lingered, it was a rare spectacle.

To ensure the remaining twenty were at their best, Yat had Ron bring out rye bread baked in Kitzbühel for them to eat their fill.

Once they had finished, Yat stood before them and said, "You are the elite I have chosen. You are all fit to hunt bandits with me, but I only need the best ten. You will now wrestle in pairs against someone of similar build. The last ones standing will come with me."

Until nightfall, the air outside the North Gate was filled with the sounds of wrestling and the roar of the crowd, drawing the attention of the city guards.

After confirming the recruitment was legitimate and seeing the clerk’s sealed document, the guards departed.

The final results came in. The ten victors included servants, miners, laborers, farmers, deserters, and drifters. Those who seemed shiftless or cunning had been weeded out in the first round, leaving only the honest and sturdy.

Yat approached the ten men who were preparing to leave with their grain. "You lost the wrestling, but you are good men. I offer you another chance at survival. I have fertile land in the southern part of the County of Burgundy that needs tilling. If you follow me north, I will lease you land. I will provide food and lodging until the harvest, and I promise no rent or taxes for the first year... If you wish to be soldiers in the future, there will be opportunities."

Most of these men were strong enough to survive on their own. Aside from three farmers who were honest and simple-minded enough to follow Yat north to till the wilderness, the rest left.

Turning to the ten winners, Yat said, "Brothers, from now on, you are my men. Obey me and fight for me, and I guarantee you food, clothing, and regular pay. Let’s head into the city. Tonight, I treat you to bread and meat broth."

The men cheered.

After a hearty dinner and a night’s rest in the city square, Yat led his new recruits back the next morning.