Chapter 50 Refusing the Offer

As the pale light of dawn began to show on the horizon, the procession of refugees vanished around the foot of the mountain north of the trade route. The border hill, which had been bustling for several days, finally grew quiet, leaving behind neat stacks of timber and stone, alongside a few smoking campfire embers...

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When the sun rose, south of the border, three riders clad in armor and holding sharp swords galloped from the southern trade route toward the border hill, bearing a brown-ground banner with a flying horse emblem.

Upon reaching the hill, one of the riders dismounted, walked over to the campfire embers by the roadside, and felt them with his hand. He stood up and said to Baron Beliard, who was still mounted behind him, "My lord, the ashes are still warm. They couldn't have left very long ago."

Another rider jumped down from the hill and reported, "My lord, those stacked items are just timber and stones, nothing else."

Beliard looked around and muttered to himself, "Who would pile up timber and stones in a place like this? Planning to build a castle here? This little bit of timber and stone isn't even enough anyway—how bizarre!"

With that, he reined his horse around, surveyed the surroundings once more, and shouted to his two subordinates, "Alright, never mind this. Let's press on and try to reach Tignetz by tomorrow."

The three warhorses neighed and galloped northward along the trade route......

Baron Beliard's northern expedition to recruit soldiers and gather provisions had been fraught with difficulties. Kitzbühel had gathered a large number of fleeing refugees, but no one was willing to follow him back to Castle Cug which had already plunged into the flames of war to throw away their lives. As for raising grain and provisions, that proved even harder. Kitzbühel, already suffering from a grain shortage, was forced by strict imperial decrees to harbor a massive influx of refugees fleeing north. To prevent the refugees from continuing northward, they had to provide grain to satisfy them with a daily bowl of watery wheat gruel—an amount of food that was far from filling, barely keeping them alive while they waited for death.

With no grain secured, Baron Beliard had no choice but to leave two guards in Kitzbühel to continue recruitment, and then take his remaining two men and the bulk of his funds across the border to the southern territory of the County of Burgundy in search of provisions...

Several miles east of the trade route amidst a cluster of boulders, Simon parted ways with the eastward-bound group and rode back to the wooden fort. Art had ordered him to return as quickly as possible to discuss with Cooper the establishment of a border toll station.

Back at the boulder cluster, Rohn and Jason were handing out sharpened wooden poles to the ten men chosen as soldiers and three slightly more robust farmers. These poles had been cut by the refugees over the past two days from the dense forests at the foot of Mount Ramel. Last night, Rohn led them in hastily crafting fifteen wooden spears, each about seven feet long, with spearheads hardened by baking over a campfire.

The men who received the spears were gathered in an open space. Art intended to teach them how to project an appearance of combat effectiveness as much as possible.

"Lads, I will not conceal the dangers we may encounter these next two days. Although this route won't easily attract the attention of roving bandits and outlaws like the trade route leading to the county town of Tignetz, it is close to mountainous forests, and sporadic mountain bandits might appear. Therefore, I am issuing wooden spears to you for self-defense and courage. Of course, if we truly engage in battle with bandits, I do not expect you to throw your lives away in vain. I only need you to put on a convincing display of military strength. With our group of dozens, including over a dozen 'soldiers' and three cavalrymen, ordinary bandits would have fled long ago upon seeing us."

The thirteen young and able-bodied men nodded in agreement. Previously, they had felt somewhat fearful, but now that each had a weapon in hand, coupled with the protection of three cavalrymen, they naturally felt much safer.

Art continued, "Until we reach Castle Andermatt, the thirteen of you will be temporarily divided into two squads, led respectively by Rohn and Jason. Do not be fooled by their youth; they are brave warriors who have fought hard battles and slain mountain bandits and outlaws. You must obey their commands."

"Furthermore, since we must look like soldiers, you must not casually toss your weapons about while marching, and your formations must be neat. Shortly, Rohn and Jason will teach you how to shoulder your spears and maintain marching formation."

After Rohn and Jason conducted a simple "training" session for the two newly formed squads in the clearing by the boulders, the group resumed their journey.

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Three days later, within the city of Tignetz, Baron Beliard had just emerged from Viscount Pierre's office. This northern grain-purchasing expedition had not gone as smoothly as he had imagined. Tignetz had become a gathering place for refugees from Provence. Over the year and a half since the large-scale outbreak of the southern war, nearly a thousand fleeing people had successively converged here. Tignetz's grain production was originally only sufficient to sustain the castle and a few surrounding manors; the sudden influx of a thousand people had completely hollowed out Tignetz. Viscount Pierre had already sent three desperate distress letters to Besançon, but all four counties on the southern border had been flooded with massive numbers of refugees, and Besançon was also struggling to cope, having only allocated thirty thousand pounds of mixed grain to Tignetz before the onset of winter last year, telling them to procure the rest themselves.

Procure it themselves! The various lords, who normally refused to pay their taxes on time, all chose self-preservation at this moment. The grain they harvested remained hoarded in their barns, awaiting the restoration of trade and the arrival of groups of grain merchants to purchase it. As for the county governor's decree to requisition grain, they either ignored it completely or handed over a cart or two of aged, mixed grain to fulfill the requirement.

"My lord, what should we do? Since Viscount Pierre is unwilling to lend a hand, should we continue further north toward Lucerne or Besançon?" Returning to the inn in the southern part of the city, the attendant asked the sorrowful Baron Beliard.

"Riding from here to Lucerne takes three days, and if we manage to purchase grain, it will take even longer to return. Castle Cug probably cannot hold out for that long. We must return as quickly as possible with grain and soldiers."

Baron Beliard stood up, gripped the hilt of his sword, looked at the sky through the lattice window of the second-floor inn, and pondered for a long time before saying, "We will go and purchase grain throughout the entire county of Tignetz ourselves."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than news came from downstairs: the Duchy of Swabia was massing troops with the intent to invade the eastern border of the County of Burgundy. The imperial court's mobilization decree had already been sent to every county, and the flames of war were about to be ignited.

"My lord, it seems the north is about to descend into chaos as well..."

............

"The County of Burgundy is about to be dragged into war?"

Inside Castle Andermatt, Art was astonished by the news provided by Baron Antaias. Word had already arrived from the imperial court that the mountain bandits and outlaws who had been raiding and capturing villages and outposts across the eastern border of the county earlier were actually pawns hired by the Duchy of Swabia to test Burgundy's reactions.

At the beginning of the month, the Duchy of Swabia had mobilized over two thousand soldiers from its central regions and begun massing them along the border. Fortresses and strongholds all along the eastern front of the County of Burgundy heightened their readiness, preparing at any moment to repel an enemy invasion.

"Art, the imperial court is already aware of the fall of Castle Ars, but because you promptly recaptured it, you will not be held accountable. Now the border is in a state of emergency, and the court has strictly ordered me to step up the recruitment of grain and funds, train soldiers, and prepare our defenses. We are close to the mountainous region here, so the possibility of a large-scale enemy incursion is not high, but we must still prepare for the worst..."

To cope with the potentially impending border war, Baron Antaias had enfeoffed Castle Ars—which had lost its heir—to his household knight, Druid, who was given full responsibility for its defense. Furthermore, Baron Antaias had issued a mobilization decree to all the villages, manors, and settlements in his territory. Over the next few months, he would muster more than forty standing soldiers and over sixty levied peasant soldiers. Combined with the garrison troops at Castle Ars and the conscripted corvée farmers, Baron Antaias would forcibly recruit nearly two hundred soldiers and peasant troops, exhausting almost all the human and material resources within his domain.

Baron Antaias stood atop the stone watchtower on the roof of the stone building, turned his head, and stared at Art standing behind him. "Art, I extend my invitation to you once more. I am currently lacking elite soldiers, and even more so, commanders like you. If you are willing to fight under my banner, I promise to promote you to a knightly lord within three years. Although you have always emphasized that you are merely a civilian official, I can see that you carry the glory of some family upon your shoulders."

For a fleeting moment, Art felt tempted.

In the half-year since his awakening, he had buried the cowardly soul of his past life, picked up everything belonging to the original owner of this body, and engaged in ceaseless killing and conquest—all for the purpose of securing a foothold in this era and living a different kind of life in this extraordinary time.

Such a heaven-sent opportunity was laid out before him, and he ought to have accepted it. Yet, after a year of rushing about and bloody combat, Art had already carved out an effectively controlled "territory" and nearly a hundred "subjects" in the valley's unclaimed land. Although his status was still currently that of a temporarily appointed civilian official, he had a premonition that he could forge a dawn of his own in this impending chaotic world. Once he submitted to the wing of Baron Antaias, he would have to abandon everything he currently possessed, and henceforth be restricted at every turn...

"My lord Baron, forgive my lack of worldly wisdom. I assure you that if the day ever comes when you need me to contribute my humble strength, I will fight side by side under your banner."

Baron Antaias's disappointment was plain to see, but he did not try overly hard to persuade him further, paying Art five hundred pennies as remuneration for helping to recruit refugees, as per their agreement.

With many complex matters awaiting him in the fort, Art did not linger. After eating a simple lunch in the military fort, Art left Andermatt on horseback accompanied by Rohn and Jason.

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"Rohn, you heard Baron Antaias's words today. Do you think I should not have rejected his offer?" On the return journey from Andermatt, Art asked Rohn, who was riding beside him.

Without a moment's hesitation, Rohn replied, "My lord, I believe you made the wise choice."

Art pulled on the reins, looked Rohn in the eyes, and asked, "Why? Do you realize what the enfeeblement of a lord means to a commoner? That is the lifelong dream of countless people."

"My lord, an ordinary commoner certainly would not refuse such heaven-sent glory, but you are no ordinary commoner. The old steward once said that from the moment you recruited a large number of refugees to reclaim the valley land, you were destined to be no longer an ordinary forest hunter. What you aim for is more than just the title of a lifelong knight, isn't it?"

"Oh? You can see that?"

"My lord, not just me—even Odo and the others have discussed this matter in private. The 'territory' and 'subjects' you possess already constitute the entirety of a knight's domain; you simply lack the formal title at present."

"Ever since I followed you north last year, in just seven or eight months we have experienced four battles, and four familiar brothers have left us forever. Sometimes I feel afraid, afraid that in the next battle I might never rise again. Yet I always feel that taking risks with your life is worthwhile, because you are a rising new noble, and I will be the brave warrior guarding your side." Rohn spoke with great emotion, his voice trembling slightly.

Art listened to Rohn's words in silence for a long time. "Rohn, how old are you this year?"

Rohn was thrown off by the sudden change in topic and took a moment to react. "My lord, I—I—will be turning eighteen this year."

"From the way you talked, I thought you were already twenty-eight."

"Huh? My lord, I don't understand your meaning."

"Very well, warrior Rohn, let's press on with our journey."