Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 158 Turuhaug and Naiman

After the fierce battle, the caravan was in complete disarray. The surviving Parat people lay sprawled on the ground, panting heavily. The brutal battle had drained them of all their energy.

Some militiamen were weeping over the bodies of their fallen comrades, who were their relatives and friends.

"Who speaks Hart?" Pierre, carrying a musket, walked through the stables. "Is there anyone who speaks Hart?"

The only response he received was a shake of the head, or simply silence.

“Herd language? Does nobody understand it?” Pierre asked every living Paratist he met.

"I can." A gaunt figure climbed down from the carriage. "What's wrong?"

"You speak Hed? Hunter?"

Bell, still somewhat dazed after being struck on the head by a spear, said, "I know a little. Before my mother passed away, our whole family lived in the Bitter Water Tribe."

“Follow me.” Pierre turned and led the way: “The lieutenant needs a translator.”

……

A curved needle, threaded with cotton, pierced through the flesh as the company's barber and doctor, Perot, stitched up a wound on the colonel's shoulder.

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica sat imposingly on a powder keg, listening to Lieutenant Bud report on the battle losses.

More than two hundred militiamen and drivers in the supply corps were killed or wounded, most of them were deserters; the casualties in the wagon battles were relatively few.

Dozens of people are still missing, presumably having fled into the wilderness during the chaos.

In addition, there were several losses of horses and vehicles...

"Alright! Stop reading!" The lieutenant colonel waved his hand impatiently. "It's infuriating to listen to. A waiter would be more useful!"

Bard put away the paper slip and said gently, "There's nothing we can do about it. The supplies for the supply train belong to the government, but the waiter's things are his own."

Faced with the sudden attack of Hed's light cavalry, the militia and coachmen under Jessica offered almost no resistance, abandoning their carriages, horses, and supplies, and fleeing for their lives, which eventually turned into a rout.

On the contrary, the small businessmen in the rear guard who were "taking advantage of the protection" fought desperately to protect the carriages and horses, wielding wooden sticks and pitchforks to fight Hed's cavalry to the death.

Because the car contained all the valuables of many of them, and if it were robbed, they would be left penniless.

"What about the Heds?" Lieutenant Colonel Jessica gulped down a large mouthful of strong liquor to relieve the pain.

“A few escaped, and Lieutenant Cellini led his men to chase after them,” Bard said unhurriedly. “The remaining Hed men, both alive and dead, are being counted by Lieutenant Montagne.”

Jessica glanced at Bud beside her and said in a hoarse voice, "You did a good job today."

"Thank you, sir."

The one-eyed colonel rarely praised anyone, but the cavalry lieutenant, as always, showed no emotional fluctuation.

……

The Heds had few soldiers and not much they could do.

The supply train consisted of nearly six hundred militiamen and cart drivers, which was no small number.

Let alone six hundred people, even six hundred pigs would be too much for the Hed people to kill in a short time, not to mention the more than three hundred Paratul merchants following behind.

The Hurds' advantage lay in their surprise attacks and the fact that their escorts were scattered throughout the more than one-kilometer-long convoy, each fighting independently.

If they bring tinder, set fires, and move in and out quickly, the Paratians have no way to deal with them.

But the Huds did not choose to burn the supplies—Lieutenant Colonel Jetska explained it as greed. In Hud, "fighting" and "looting" are the same word, and the Huds wanted both.

Faced with merchants who were particularly determined to resist, the Heds did not confront them head-on, but instead turned their attention to dealing with the fleeing militia and coachmen.

Subsequently, Lieutenant Colonel Jessica and Lieutenant Montagne drew most of the Hed's attention, and the pressure on the rear of the convoy was suddenly relieved.

When Andrei returned to the convoy, he ran into Bader directing the merchants to form a makeshift caravan.

After discussing it, the two decided that Andrei would take Dusak, who was still able to move, to go out and find out the situation.

That's how the scene came about where Andrei charged into the wagon formation shouting the Third Army's battle cry.

……

Barber Perrault struggled to sew up the cut, but his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't tie a knot.

Bud patted the barber on the shoulder and took the tweezers.

“Those who have strayed must be brought together,” Lieutenant Colonel Jessica said thoughtfully.

"Yes."

"We can't stay here any longer; we need to leave as soon as possible."

"Yes."

Badr neatly tied a knot and cut the thread.

The lieutenant colonel gulped down another mouthful of strong liquor, yelling as he dressed, "Where's Montagne? Tell him to hurry up, does it really take this long to clean up the battlefield?"

……

Winters is leading a team to treat the wounded and identify and collect the bodies.

The militia successively discovered several Hurds who were still able to move, but Winters wanted to interrogate them but could not understand what they were saying.

Jessica, carrying a military knife, strode over: "What are you dawdling for?"

Winters saluted: "Lieutenant Colonel, what about the Heard people?"

"What do we do?" Lieutenant Colonel Jessica asked, bewildered. "Finish off the dead, kill the living. Hurry up, we need to get going."

Winters didn't speak, he just nodded.

"Assemble the troops and reorganize. Let those merchants clean up the battlefield, collect the armor and weapons, and give the rest to them; they'll be happy to do so."

Winters nodded again.

The lieutenant colonel added, "Oh, and don't forget to cut off that deadbeat Heard's ear, the one with the earring."

“What?” Winters frowned. “Why?”

"Why? To exchange money!" Lieutenant Colonel Jessica chuckled.

Pierre dragged the little hunter along and shouted from afar, "Sir, Bel speaks Hetschal!"

"Does anyone understand Hetsch?" Jessica's eyes lit up.

Pierre noticed the lieutenant colonel was also there and quickly saluted.

"Which of you understand Hellen?" the lieutenant colonel asked the two young Dussacs.

“Me,” Bell said unhappily.

"Where did you learn it?"

Bell stared at the tip of the shoe: "My mother."

Winters noticed that the young hunter was upset, but Lieutenant Colonel Jessica clearly didn't care about the soldier's background.

The lieutenant colonel yelled at the others, "Bring all the surviving Hed people here!"

……

The prisoners who could still speak were bound hand and foot and made to kneel in a row in front of Lieutenant Colonel Jessica.

“Tell them I’m not going to waste my breath on them.” The lieutenant colonel leaned on his saber and coldly surveyed the prisoners: “They’ll answer whatever I ask, or they’ll die.”

Bell translated it listlessly.

A Hedman looked up and shouted something at Bell. Winters couldn't understand it, but he could hear the anger in his voice.

"What did he say?" Lieutenant Colonel Jessica asked, pointing at the Hed man who had spoken.

Bell glanced at the lieutenant colonel with a complicated expression, then lowered his head again: "He said, 'You're clearly a Herd, why are you helping two-legged people?'"

The one-eyed lieutenant colonel sneered and suddenly swung his sword, severing the head of the man who had spoken.

The headless corpse crashed heavily to the ground, blood gushing from the severed head. The head flew a short distance, rolled a few times on the ground, and its eyes were still wide open.

Bell, the kneeling Hed people, the Parat people watching... even Winters was startled, and some prisoners were so frightened that they lost control of their bladders.

"I ask you questions! You answer them!" Lieutenant Colonel Jessica's saber was still dripping blood: "Translate it to them."

The conversation that followed went smoothly.

With their faces hidden beneath their iron helmets, the Hart cavalrymen, wielding spears and swords as they charged into battle, resembled devils and monsters.

But ultimately, they are also human beings who feel pain, fear, and cry. Stripped of their identity as soldiers, they are just herdsmen, no different from Plato's militia.

"Which department do you belong to?" the lieutenant colonel asked.

"Dog Squad".

What do you call your 'Turukota'?

“Aviye”.

The lieutenant colonel stared with his one eye and asked, word by word, "And who is your 'Haugkota'?"

The Hed people who were asked the question froze when they heard the word "Haugkota" and whispered something.

Bell translated: "He said the Dog Corps is a small tribe, without any Haugs."

Without further ado, Lieutenant Colonel Jessica swiftly struck and killed the man who had answered with a single blow.

Blood splattered on Bell's face, and the little hunter's body trembled uncontrollably.

The lieutenant colonel walked up to the third prisoner of Hed and asked, "Who is your 'Haugkota'?"

Without needing a translator, the prisoner, Hed, stammered out a name. "Lieutenant Montagne!" Lieutenant Colonel Jessica roared.

"exist!"

"Get everyone ready, we're leaving right away."

"keep going?"

"Turn around and head east!"

……

The four riders fled for their lives, and the saddled horseman, Hart, spared no effort in whipping the warhorse.

Although they couldn't see it, the Heds knew that somewhere behind them, a group of Paratul cavalry were hot on their heels.

The Hed and Parat people chased each other across the undulating wilderness, only occasionally seeing each other when they were both on higher ground.

The horse, foaming at the mouth, climbed another hill. One of the Hed men looked back and shouted in surprise, "Look, the two-legged man has left!"

[Note: The Hed people all speak Hed language.]
Upon hearing this, the other Hed people looked behind them. The Palatine cavalry on the plains did not continue the pursuit, but instead rode in the opposite direction.

Having narrowly escaped death, the Hed people breathed a sigh of relief.

The tension finally eased, and one of the Heds suddenly yelled at his companion, "[Foul language]! We agreed to attack at the same time, why are you so late?"

The Hurd people, who had been insulted, were furious: "It was clearly you who attacked too early!"

"Stop arguing! Aviyeh and Hehunsh are both dead. What's the point of arguing now?" another Hed shouted. "Where's Goka? He said his men would flank us from the rear. Where is he?"

The others looked at each other in bewilderment, only then realizing that the guys responsible for attacking the rear of the column had not shown up at all.

Lieutenant Andrea Cellini, who was abandoning the pursuit and cursing as he returned to the supply train, was unaware that it was precisely because he had delivered a hard blow to "Goká" on the head that the JASKA battalion had avoided being caught in a pincer attack today.

……

The moonlight was dim, so the caravan lit torches and traveled through the night.

Everyone was on high alert, with fire ropes wrapped around their wrists, and the halberdiers marching in heavy armor.

Winters rode his powerful mount around the stables, the firelight reflecting off his half-armor, making him stand out.

This was the first time he had ever fully donned this set of officer's armor since it was issued to him.

As the silver-gray horse passed by, the militiamen silently saluted.

Winters heard someone softly calling his name, turned around and saw Andrei's figure appear in the night.

"It's been so long since I've worn this, I'm not used to it anymore." Andrei gently patted the steel plate on his chest; he was now also wearing armor.

"It's easy to put it on, but hard to take it off." Winters seemed a little lost in thought: "Last time I wore it for a year, and I don't know when I'll be able to wear it again this time."

Andrei chuckled a few times and joked, "If Lieutenant Colonel Jessica and I had kept wearing them, we wouldn't have gotten hurt."

Although muskets pose a great threat to armor, having multiple iron plates on your body is always a good thing when fighting in melee.

According to Winters' observations, the Hed people mainly used cold weapons, so Andrei's statement was not entirely unfounded.

"By the way," Andrei asked, "Do you have any spare swords?"

"What?" Winters didn't hear clearly at first.

"A sword, a military sword, straight."

"There is a one-handed sword and an unsharpened longsword."

"Lend it to me."

Winters asked, puzzled, "Don't you have guys?"

“I’m armed with sabers.” Andrei slapped his thigh. “There are quite a few armored cavalrymen among the Heds. I’ve suffered a great loss today. Lend me all your swords. You don’t fight on horseback anyway.”

"alright."

“I won’t let you suffer a loss either,” Andrei said with beaming eyes. “I got two Heds scimitars and steel-tipped maces today, I’ll give you one.”

Winters jokingly asked, "Just one?"

"I need to keep one as a backup too."

The two chatted for a few minutes, but then fell into silence.

Andrei's sigh broke the silence. He looked into the night behind him and asked, his voice trembling slightly, "Hey, Winters, do you really think there's a thousand Herd cavalry chasing us?"

……

In Hetti, "Kota" means little chief, "Turu" means a hundred-man squad, and "Haug" means a thousand-man squad.

The Hed people used a decimal system for their organization. A team of one hundred men was organized into teams of one hundred men, and above that were teams of one thousand men, and above that were teams of ten thousand men.

There are extensive alliances of offense and defense among the various tribes of the Hard, and in principle, all chieftains are equal. In times of war, each tribe must provide soldiers to the war leader.

Some tribes are so small that they can only offer half a Turu. Even so, the Turu of a small tribe has the same status as the Hauge or even the "Naiman [ten-thousand-strong army]" of a large tribe.

Therefore, Hauge must contain ten Turu, but a Turu does not necessarily belong to a particular Hauge.

This is why the Naiman tribe of Hed is extremely rare; the last time such a unit existed was thirty years ago. However, whenever a force of ten thousand men appears on the Great Wilderness, the Palatul people are in big trouble.

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica did not recognize the "Haugkota" that Heard mentioned, but he used it to confirm that the hundred-man squad that attacked the supply train came from a "Haug".

Even if most of the thousand-man squads of the various tribes under Hed were not fully staffed, one more Tulu would be enough to wipe out the supply train.

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica decisively ordered a turnaround and a return to the previous camp.

……

“Not a thousand, at most nine hundred. We’ve already taken out a hundred-man squad.” Winters asked casually, “Scared? That’s not like you.”

Andrei took out his pipe from his pocket, and Winters lit it for him.

Lieutenant Cellini took a drag of his cigarette and asked, "Do you remember those Herd slaves on Chilu Island?"

"Ah."

“I still can’t forget the sight of those Hed people stripping naked, smearing themselves with peat, and climbing up the ramparts with daggers in their mouths.” Andrei tapped his forehead and said slowly, “Although the Japanese are all full of confidence, if the Hed people can all be so fearless, I don’t think the Japanese will win this battle.”

"You're really scared?" Winters was genuinely shocked.

Andrei waved his hand: "It's not that I'm afraid, I'm just stating the facts."

Winters thought for a moment and said seriously, "It's different. The Hed people on Red Irrawaddy Island have a reason to be fearless in the face of death; they dream of going home. But most of the Hed people fighting against Paratu probably don't, but neither do the Paratu people. If we're talking about who's worse, Paratu probably wins."

Andrei tapped his empty pipe on the heel of his boot, sighed, and said, "That's true, where are we going to find so many soldiers who aren't afraid to die?"

Winters couldn't help but sigh, "I never expected that we'd end up risking our lives against the Hurds. I wonder if those Hurd slaves have gone home yet?"

The two chatted casually for a few minutes, then went back to their respective inspections.

The supply train didn't return to the camp where they had set out that morning until late at night. It was a simple, makeshift camp with absolutely no effective fortifications.

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica only gave everyone two hours of rest.

Two hours later, the convoy will continue its journey toward the fortified camp on the banks of the River Styx.

The Palatine men in the convoy were all busy filling their stomachs.

Winters walked to a carriage, opened the door, and found Father Reed and the lion cub inside.

“That’s all we have for now.” Winters placed a can of water and two pieces of bread on the car seat. “There’s no time to start a fire right now, so this will have to do.”

The hungry lion cub let out a dissatisfied howl and begged for food.

"You can go hungry for now!" Winters glared at the little lion. "I'll find you something to eat when we get there."

The lion cub buried its head in its front legs and let out a soft whimper, as if complaining.

The lion cub is now almost the size of an adult large dog, with paws as big as Winters's palms; Winters can hardly lift it anymore.

Today, thanks to this "little" creature, Brother Reid was protected, but the lion cub was also exposed to the sight of the rest of the caravan.

Fortunately, the old charlatan casually made up a reason that "the Lord sent down a lion to protect his servant," which actually fooled those believers who worshipped him.

“This little guy is intelligent and perceptive. If he were in Celica, he might even be able to get a position like a royal cat.” Brother Reid stroked the lion cub’s mane and said, “It bit someone today, but it’s not a big problem. Just make sure it never tastes human flesh.”

Winters nodded, then suddenly said seriously, "Brother Reid."

"I'm not used to you using honorifics," the old monk said, somewhat flattered.

“Once you reach the river, cross the bridge with Father Kaman, and I will send someone to take you back to Wolf Town.”

The old man chuckled and asked, "What's wrong? You can't afford the scribe's salary anymore?"

Winters made his firm stance clear with his eyes.

The old charlatan joked, "That kid Kaman can leave if he wants. But I can't. I swore a solemn oath to only travel west and never return east. Aren't you forcing me to break my oath?"

Winters said helplessly, "I'm very serious, I'm not joking."

“I’m very serious, I’m not joking.” The old charlatan laughed heartily.

Winters slammed the door shut, thinking, "Let Kaman handle this."

Thank you to all the readers who voted for the book before;

Thank you to reader Three O'Clock Blue for the monthly pass;

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(End of this chapter)