Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 140 Zhevodan

The conscription order arrived in Wolf Town on the morning of the third day.

As dawn broke, convoys of four-wheeled farm wagons set off from the various estates in Wolf Town, converging in the town center before heading towards the city of Revodan.

Hundreds of large trucks stretched out in a long line on the road, with the front and back of the line differing by a kilometer. The creaking and grinding of the axles could be heard from a great distance.

Every now and then, fully armed and skilled riders would pass by the slow-moving wagons, patrolling the convoy back and forth.

Following the undulating terrain, the road winds and twists into the distance, passing through mostly deserted areas.

Wilderness and meadows were the main scenery along the way, and occasionally when the convoy passed through a forest, everyone's nerves would instantly tighten.

Even the laziest coachman would be on high alert at this moment, taking out a short knife and crossbow and placing them by his side, while keeping a watchful eye on the dark woods on both sides of the road.

Only after the caravan left the forest did the drivers dare to breathe a sigh of relief, kick their weapons back under their seats, and return to their usual listless state.

Winters and Girard rode at the head of the caravan, while the patrolling riders were Dussac, hired by the landowners.

Although Wolf Town has received orders to conscript militia, life must go on.

Farmers need to harvest their crops, plant autumn crops, and sell the tobacco, cotton, and sugar beets harvested from their estates.

Most of the manor's output had already been pre-paid for by various merchants.

However, for merchants, the risks and costs of transportation were too high, and the plantation owners needed to transport the goods to the city of Gevordan themselves for delivery.

Therefore, every year at this time, the owners of the various manors in Wolf Town would agree on a time to transport their goods to the city of Revodan together, which resulted in the large convoy in front of us.

Sticking together for warmth is a last resort.

Harsh government, harsh government is as fierce as a tiger. The harsh government of the Plato leadership in the newly reclaimed land inevitably led to rampant banditry.

Theft, poaching, tax evasion, unauthorized land reclamation... each of these crimes can force law-abiding farmers to take risks, exchange violence for food and clothing, and become robbers and bandits.

If the weather is bad—low temperatures all year round, damp and cool summers, and long and cold winters—crop failures and famines will follow.

That would mean not only the newly reclaimed lands, Plato, or the Cynas Alliance... but also a large number of farmers across the entire continent would go bankrupt, starve, or become outlaws.

[Note: People of this era were unaware that they were experiencing what later became known as the "Little Ice Age."]
Most of the newly reclaimed land in the Republic of Palatour is covered by virgin forests and meadows, interspersed with scattered villages and a few small towns with populations of one or two thousand.

The only major city was Maplestone City, the capital of the newly reclaimed land province and the garrison of the army.
In such sparsely populated border regions, without the protection of city walls or the watchful eyes of neighbors, any isolated farmhouse would be at the mercy of a few burly men armed with crude weapons.

Therefore, most farmers in newly reclaimed land live together in groups, with few living in separate farmhouses far from the village.

The dirt roads in the countryside, the borders between towns, and the forests near cities are all far from where help is needed, and are dangerous places where bandits run rampant.

Wolftown was peaceful thanks to Girard Mitchell in charge.

With Girard's benevolent rule and Dusak's full support, Wolf Town itself had no fertile ground for bandits.

Foreign villains, unable to gain the help of the locals, are like fish out of water. The clever ones will escape immediately, while the less clever ones are easily crushed by Girard and Dussac.

After eliminating a notorious gang, few villains dared to cause trouble in Wolf Town.

However, there are as many as 124 administrative districts of the same level as Xinkendi and Langzhen, so even if Langzhen has good public security, its impact on the overall environment is negligible.

A convoy of farm carts carrying large quantities of goods, moving slowly, and lacking the ability to protect themselves was an irresistible feast for the bandits.

Every year at this time, small groups of bandits would spontaneously form large gangs to rob convoys transporting goods into the city from various places.

After paying a bloody price several times, the manor owners of Wolf Town banded together for mutual support and hired riders from Dusa Village to protect the caravan.

“A few years ago there was a particularly notorious bandit, nicknamed ‘Bloody Hand Hughes.’” Girard and Winters rode side by side, vividly recounting the legends of bandits in the newly reclaimed lands: “That guy not only robbed, murdered, and extorted, but he would also cut off people’s hands and put them in salt barrels to pickle. It is said that when the military police caught him, they found hundreds of severed hands, and they couldn’t tell which pair belonged to which person.”

Winters was indignant: "They only got arrested after killing dozens of people. What are the military police in the newly reclaimed lands good for? I used to be a military policeman too. If it were my old superior, Lieutenant Colonel Field, who came..."

Language stirred his thoughts, and he suddenly remembered the fallen Lieutenant Colonel Field and the promise they made to drink together in Golden Harbor. Winters' voice grew softer and softer until he could no longer speak.

“Catching thieves is the local responsibility, not the garrison legion,” Girard sighed. “The legion’s military police will be dispatched to arrest Bloodhand because he went too far and stole the legion’s supply convoy.”

Sergei, who was standing nearby, perked up and interjected with great interest: "There's another joke. It's said that a traveling merchant was entering the city when he encountered robbers on the way. At this moment, a group of military police passed by, and the merchant shouted for help, but the military police ignored him. In desperation, the merchant shouted, 'I haven't paid my taxes!' The military police immediately rushed over, chased away the robbers, and arrested the merchant, taking him all the way into the city."

After saying that, Sergei burst into laughter.

Two riders galloped back from a distance ahead; they were Pierre and Vahika. Girard was very cautious and had sent several riders ahead to scout the way early in the morning.

"Father!" Pierre shouted impatiently from afar, "The river is flooded!"

Vahika looked panicked: "The water is now up to the horses' backs, what should we do?"

Hearing the two men shouting, the driver in front quickly pulled on the rope and stopped the cart. The drivers behind also hurriedly stopped, and one cart after another came to a halt.

Seeing his son's flustered state, Sergei scolded him angrily, "What are you panicking about! Are you still Dusak? What's the big deal that scares you like this?"

“These two kids are out with the team for the first time, so they don’t know much,” Girard explained to Winters. “This is downstream. When it rains upstream, the water rises downstream. It’s common for them to be unable to wade through the area.”

"What should I do?"

Girard pointed north: "Take a detour to Little Rock. There's a bridge across the Torrent River in Little Rock. It'll just take more time and incur some toll fees."

Gerard and his old buddy exchanged a glance, then Gerard nodded to Sergei.

Sergei turned his horse around and galloped towards the rear of the convoy, shouting orders: "Take a detour! Take a detour! To Little Rock! Follow the car in front! Follow the car in front!"

“The intersection to Little Rock is behind us, we’ve already passed it. But it’s not easy to turn around on the road, so let’s keep going forward and find a good place to turn back!” Girard instructed the driver of the lead wagon, “Follow me.”

The driver whipped the animals hard, and with a screeching sound, the horses neighed and dragged the carriages forward.

Girard said apologetically to Winters, "I estimate it will take an extra day on the road."

“It’s alright, a day or two won’t make a difference anyway,” Winters replied with a smile.

Winters was also in the caravan, not primarily to provide protection—this large caravan had no shortage of people who could wield swords.

Lieutenant Montagne's main objective was to visit the garrison in Gévoudan. Because the order to conscript militia was too broad, some key points needed clarification.

Although the conscription order has been delivered for several days, the drafting process in Wolf Town has made no progress. There has been no lottery, no training, nothing.

It wasn't that Winters was intentionally delaying, but rather that it was the busy farming season, and conscripting men at this time would ruin a year's worth of hard work for the farmers.

The Paratú Plateau is located at a low latitude and high altitude. The north-south airflow is blocked by the towering mountains, and the precipitation mainly comes from the monsoon blowing from the Gulf of Cenas toward the plateau.

For this reason, crops in Palatú are mostly grown in rotation, with two harvests a year or three harvests every two years.

At this time, in the farmland of various villages in Wolf Town, spring-sown crops need to be harvested and dried. Autumn-sown crops—such as winter wheat—are waiting to be sown.

While ordinary farmers are busy harvesting, drying, and sowing grain, the people of Dusa have an extra task – cutting grass. After the pastures are allocated to each household, men, women, and children all pitch in to cut and dry grass to feed livestock in the winter.

Farmers with little arable land would finish their work in their own fields and then do odd jobs for farmers who needed help, in exchange for some grain to supplement their household income.

Winters couldn't bear to conscript farmers at this time. Fortunately, there was still some time before the deadline, so there was no need to rush.

Therefore, Lieutenant Winters Montagne also had the opportunity to go to Gevordane to clarify the ambiguous content of the conscription order. The lieutenant had many questions to ask his superior.

One of the most crucial questions, and one that sounds rather absurd, is whether the conscripted militia are legally considered "soldiers" or "laborers."

For the villagers of Wolf Town, this problem is truly absurd.

Were they laborers? Or soldiers?
What does it matter? Aren't we all just going to work?

If you were to ask the farmers of Wolf Town this question, they would all unanimously answer: "Whichever will reduce my military service."

But Brother Rhett had a very creative idea. Cancellation is a devastating blow to any family, but the old mendicant monk's idea might turn a bad thing into a good one.

As he often said, "[Selica's words] misfortune may be a blessing in disguise, and a blessing may be a misfortune in disguise."

But the premise of everything is to clarify whether the militia is civilian or soldier.

……

If you ride a horse from Wolf Town to Ghevodan, it will take about three to four days to travel 60 kilometers a day.

However, the slow-moving farm truck could only travel 20 kilometers a day at most, and with the detour through Little Stone Town, it took a full two weeks to reach the city of Zhevodan.

Girard and Winters disciplined the caravan with marching rules: scouts went ahead, a rear guard was stationed, patrols were conducted during the day, and night watchmen took turns on duty. After several days of marching, everyone was exhausted both mentally and physically. However, most of the drivers and Dussac were not first-timers with caravans and were able to silently grit their teeth and endure the fatigue.

Pierre, Vajica, and other young Dussacs who were traveling with the caravan for the first time, however, quickly lost interest and began to complain bitterly. In the last few days, they became too lazy to patrol and simply stayed on the trucks and refused to get off.

There have been several accidents along the way, including broken axles and rollovers, but fortunately, Winters and Girard handled them well, preventing any injuries or fatalities. Girard specifically brought several empty cars with him as a precaution against such incidents.

Aside from these minor setbacks, the journey was uneventful, and thankfully no foolish bandits came looking for trouble.

After all, one large truck might be prey, but with a hundred large trucks, the other party would have to consider whether they might break their teeth.

As luck would have it, the rain that Girard was most worried about did not happen, and the convoy arrived in Gevordan without any incident.

Once the bell tower of the church in Gevordan came into view, Winters set off ahead to the garrison, and Gerard kindly offered to accompany him.

"Is it alright? Don't you need to go with the convoy?" Winters felt embarrassed to trouble old Dusac any further.

“It’s alright, just take the tobacco to the warehouse, I won’t be needed,” Girard said cheerfully. “Besides, you don’t know how to get to the garrison, I’ll take you there. I know Major Ronald, I can introduce you.”

Girard's enthusiasm left Winters with no reason to refuse, and the two steered their horses away from the convoy and headed toward the center of Gevordan.

As the capital of the newly reclaimed land province and Tiefeng County, Rewodan could only be called a "city," not a "town," because it only had an urban area and no city walls.

Like all naturally formed settlements, this city is geographically advantageous from a modern perspective.

The city sits in the middle of a river valley, its ground firm and flat. The St. George River flows around the city, providing fresh water to the citizens of Gevordan and carrying away its waste.

The most prominent building in the entire city is undoubtedly the Gevordan Cathedral, which stands in the center of the city. Travelers from several kilometers away can see the cathedral's sword-shaped bell tower.

“The Gévodin Cathedral is incredible. Huge! Tall!” Old Dussac, usually not one for words, blushed deeply, and after a moment, managed to come up with another description: “Magnificent! Oh, and inside the cathedral is the tomb of St. Artaud! It's said that no matter how sick you are, touching it will cure you. But I haven't tried it; firstly, I'm not sick, and secondly, the priest forbids touching it…”

Gerard introduced the city of Gevordan along the way, and Winters listened attentively.

One spoke, and the other listened; the two soon arrived at the banks of the St. George River.

“I heard this place is called Lover’s Grove,” Girard said, pointing to a sparse grove of trees on the west side of the road across the city. “Anyway, it’s a place where men and women come to do that.”

Upon hearing this, Winters couldn't help but take a few more glances at the grove of trees.

But it was still daytime, and there wasn't a single person in the woods, nor did it seem particularly special.

There was only one wooden bridge over the St. George River, and an old man dressed in a coarse cloth monk's robe was dozing in the pavilion at the bridgehead.

Seeing the two men riding over, the old man limped to the wooden bar that served as a crossbar, made a gesture of respect, and said, "Good day, may God bless you."

"Good day, Father." Girard returned the bow. "How much is the toll for today?"

"One horse, one small silver coin; one quarter of a small silver coin for each person."

As Gerald pulled out his purse to count the silver coins, Winters frowned and asked, "Are you a priest?"

"of course."

"Clergy of the church?"

"Of course." The old man asked, puzzled, "Why?"

"Then why are you collecting money here?"

The old man made a gesture of respect again and explained in a rambling manner, "This bridge belongs to the Gevordan Cathedral, so there's a toll to cross it. However, local residents, clergy, and church servants are exempt..."

Girard counted out three small silver coins and handed them to the old man: "Father, please use the rest of the money to buy some firewood to warm yourself."

The old man gestured in gratitude and moved the wooden barricade that had been used as a barrier.

After the two riders crossed the bridge, the old man laboriously carried the log back.

Seeing this, Winters turned back, dismounted, and lifted the log: "Go back and sit down."

The old man thanked him repeatedly and limped back to the pavilion.

Winters shook his head inwardly. Actually, what he had asked just now was, "How could you let such an old man do this kind of work?"

After crossing the bridge, you'll reach the city of Gevordan. On the way to the garrison, Winters passes by the cathedral.

I only caught a fleeting glimpse, but this towering stone building was indeed magnificent... and resplendent in gold.

The garrison was a two-story stone building with white walls and red tiles, surrounded by a large courtyard enclosed by a wooden fence. At the other end of the courtyard was a row of barracks, and between the barracks and the building was a flat parade ground.

The guards at the gate recognized Girard and waved for the two to enter. Instead of going upstairs immediately, Girard led Winters to the stables in the backyard to store the horses.

When Winters handed the reins to the groom, Gerard Mitchell blushed and said embarrassedly, "Lieutenant, there's something I've been thinking about for a long time and I'd like to ask you for a favor. Please help me."

Winters was caught off guard by the sudden request. He had a bad feeling, but he still replied, "What is it?"

“I hope you don’t find this abrupt,” Girard said, becoming increasingly sincere.

“Please speak,” Winters said, sweating even more profusely.

"I'm really sorry, and I apologize for being so presumptuous."

"You say."

"I thought about it for a long time before I finally decided to risk my reputation."

"You say."

“You…” Girard gritted his teeth and said embarrassedly, “…Could the foals you sent be bred with my mare?”

Winters nearly had a stroke: "That's it?"

“Of course it’s paid breeding, I know the rules,” old Dussac quickly added.

When Girard spoke of his "son of the horse," he was not referring to Redmane, but rather to Strong Luck.

While Winters was fighting in Taneria, Strong Luck had been staying at Hailan's house. When Kosha sent Charles to find Winters, she asked Charles to bring Strong Luck with him.

Winters speculated that it probably also implied "riding this horse home".

Since seeing Strong Fortune, Girard has been unable to take his eyes off it. He would hover around Strong Fortune whenever he had free time, which made Winters think that he wanted to buy Strong Fortune.

“Mr. Mitchell,” Winters said sincerely, shaking Girard’s hand, “take this and make some, whatever you like.”

Old Dussac beamed with joy, rubbing his hands together, unsure of what to say.

“But I’ve heard that mares seem to be more important,” Winters asked.

“The quality of mares is certainly important, but foals are just as important.” Girard said sadly, “After Khahanu was killed by the bear, my family has not had any decent foals… Never mind, let’s not talk about this.”

Girard waved his hand and led Winters into the two-story building.

To Winters' surprise, every officer or soldier in the garrison seemed to know Gerard and greeted old Dussac.

Thus, the two easily met with Major Ronald, the commander of the Ghevordan garrison and Winters' superior.

Whether it was because of Girard's introduction or because of their alumni connection, Major Ronald was very friendly to Winters.

He inquired carefully about Winters' difficulties and what kind of help he needed, and introduced Winters to the other officers at the garrison.

“I’m only a few years older than you.” The major’s tone was quite sympathetic. He patted Winters on the shoulder. “I’ve heard about what’s going on with you. Just bear with it for now. We need manpower right now, and the higher-ups won’t release you. Once we win the war, everything will be easier to talk about.”

Winters was struck by the stark contrast between the Paratul army and its personnel; every Paratul officer he encountered was kind and friendly.

But it was the collective representing all the officers of Palatine who detained him here, preventing him from returning home.

Winters, of course, did not forget the purpose of his trip; he had some important questions to clarify.

In Plato's laws, were the militiamen "laborers" or "soldiers"?
“He is a soldier,” Major Ronald replied affirmatively, and he even produced documents to prove it.

Winters' second question:
Dusak was conscripted into the militia... but does that count as military service?

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(End of this chapter)