The slum was located at the foot of the outer wall of Lucerne City.
The laborers sat in a shack, its walls made of withered branches, hung with dry straw, letting light through everywhere. On the ground, there were a few flagstones covered with wooden boards and dry straw.
“Anyway, I’m sick of this dog-eat-dog life. I want to go out and make something of myself. Odo, what do you think?” The short, red-haired man broke the silence.
Everyone’s gaze focused on Iron Arm Odo.
Odo sat at the head, rubbing the bruise on his right shoulder with his left hand. He looked up, glaring at the red-haired man, and said, “Go out and make something of yourself? Red-head Ghost, do you know how chaotic the South is right now? Do you know if that Patrol Officer is reliable? Don’t forget you still have an old, ailing father in the countryside waiting for you to support him.”
The fellow called “Red-head Ghost” was named Kazak. He was originally a farmer from a village near Zug City, north of Lucerne. Three years ago, his family offended the lord, who reclaimed their land and drove them out of the estate. His mother and sister successively died of illness. This autumn, while feeding livestock for a squire near Lucerne, his father’s foot was crushed by an animal. Kazak, already twenty years old, was still unmarried. Now, he relied entirely on working as a laborer with Odo and his group, both inside and outside Lucerne City, to support himself and his bedridden father.
Kazak was so chastised by Odo that he couldn’t speak. He was truly tired of a life where he was constantly oppressed. If it weren't for his ailing father at home with no one to care for him, he would truly go south with that Patrol Officer and try his luck.
“Quiet down, everyone. I know you’re all tired of this dog-eat-dog life, but many of you have wives and children, and they’re waiting for you to bring copper coins and food home,” Odo said, looking around at everyone.
“This is what I’m thinking: tomorrow morning, those without families can come with me to the tavern in the south of the city to check it out. If that Patrol Officer is indeed reliable, then we’ll discuss whether to join him. Those with families shouldn’t go. You’ve lived so many years, have you ever seen free bread? Being a Soldier is about trading your head for food. If you really go to the border to suppress bandits, who knows when your head might be chopped off. If you die, your wives and children won’t even be able to live like stray dogs,” Odo said loudly.
All the laborers stopped talking. There was a moment of silence in the room.
“Don’t discuss it here anymore. This is a big matter; you need to make up your own minds. All of you, disperse. Go back and think it over carefully, then come find me tomorrow,” Odo shooed everyone out of his small shack.
While the laborers were gathered in discussion, Art was at the entrance of a grain store, bargaining with the owner, accompanied by Ron.
“Young man, you and your master don’t look like you’re short on money. Three pounds of hulled barley for one fenny is already the lowest price in the whole city. Besides, you’re only buying a thousand pounds, so I really can’t go any cheaper,” the shop owner said, growing a bit impatient with Ron’s persistence.
“Yesterday you quoted me one fenny for four pounds, how come the price went up today? You’re breaking your word!” Ron pointed at the owner’s nose and demanded.
The shop owner looked innocent and said, “I say, young man, it’s getting more and more chaotic outside now. Grain prices in many southern cities have almost doubled. The price you got yesterday is definitely not today’s price, and it might even go up tomorrow. If you don’t buy today, it might not be the same price tomorrow~”
…
Art stood by, arms crossed, watching Ron and the grain store owner go back and forth. He suddenly felt that Ron had a talent for business.
Seeing that the two were at a stalemate, Art no longer remained a bystander. He stepped forward and said to the shop owner, “Fellow, although we’re not buying much this time, we’ll definitely need to buy more grain in the future. If you can lower the price this time, I might consider ordering grain from your store long-term in the future.”
The shop owner scrutinized Art carefully. Seeing that he didn’t seem to be lying, he said, “Hmm~ Alright then, but you’ll have to buy some rye too.” The shop owner was already hoarse from arguing with Ron and didn’t want to continue. And the rye in the grain store had been in stock for several years, some of it was moldy, and the shop owner was worried about not being able to sell it.
Art nodded in agreement.
Ultimately, they bought a thousand pounds of barley for one and a half fenny per three pounds, and spent another one hundred fenny on three hundred pounds of rye, a few rye bread loaves, and a bag of wheat flour.
Finally, Ron also got a large bag of bran for feeding livestock from the owner for free.
After giving the shop owner one hundred fenny as a deposit, Art instructed them to pack the grain and said he would pick it up tomorrow afternoon. Then he took Ron back to the inn…
…
In the tavern on the first floor of the inn, Ron was stuffing a large piece of roasted meat into his mouth, his cheeks puffed out. Before he had even chewed the meat in his mouth, he picked up another piece of fine wheat bread and put it in, speaking indistinctly to Art: “Master~, why are you recruiting those laborers~? There are plenty of refugees and deserters in the South, why waste the money~”
Art picked up the wooden tankard on the table, took a small sip of light beer, and smiled as he watched Ron wolfing down his food, not answering.
Recruiting laborers into his Patrol Team was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Today, during the brawl at the construction site, Art saw the laborers’ extraordinary fighting ability, especially the fellow named Odo. He was brave and willing to fight, and he even understood some battle formations, showing the potential of an officer. Such a person was rare and hard to come by. However, although these laborers lived a hard life, they were not like the refugees in the Southern Territory who had completely lost their homes and had no one to rely on. Unless absolutely necessary, the laborers would not abandon their families to go to the southern border with him to trade their lives for food. Therefore, Art was not sure if anyone would come to him tomorrow.
“Ron, what do you think of that fellow named Odo?” Art asked, taking another sip of beer.
Ron lifted his head from the soup bowl, wiped the soup from the corner of his mouth, and after staring at Art for a moment, replied, “I definitely can’t beat him. That guy’s arms are too strong.”
“And?”
“Hmm~ that guy is quite courageous and responsible. When we went, only he dared to step forward.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
Art made no comment on Ron’s answer and continued to ask, “Do you think he’ll come tomorrow?”
“He definitely will.”
Art was surprised by Ron’s confident answer and pressed, “How can you be so sure he’ll come?”
“Because today that guy’s eyes were constantly fixed on the longsword at your waist. That kind of look was like a starving person who hasn’t eaten for too long seeing a bowl of steaming hot meat soup,” Ron continued, lowering his head to deal with the roasted meat on his plate.
“Haha, Ron, you’re quite observant. Come, drink with me.”
—
The next day, after breakfast, Ron rode the dun mule, carrying eighty fenny, to the carpenter’s shop to retrieve the abandoned iron-sided four-wheeled carriage he had bought yesterday for one hundred fifty fenny. The eighty fenny was for the carpenter’s shop to repair the carriage. The carriage’s spokes were severely damaged, and there were many broken parts on the side panels. The old carpenter only said he would try his best to repair it, but even if it was fixed, it would last at most a year and a half.
Art himself sat at a long table by the inn entrance, watching the pedestrians come and go outside the door.
He sat by the door all morning, but there was no sign of the laborers. Art was a bit disappointed. Ron had already led the dun mule, pulling the carriage, back to the stable next to the tavern. He unhitched the yoke and led the dun mule back into the stable.
Ron entered and saw Art sitting alone by the door. He asked, “Master, they haven’t come yet?”
Art smiled bitterly and shook his head, saying, “Ron, it seems your judgment isn’t accurate.”
“Alright, go pack your bags. In a bit, we’ll go to the grain store to load up the grain, and then we’ll depart for Tinietz this afternoon,” Art said with some regret.
Just as the two were about to turn and go upstairs, a red-haired fellow stood by the side of the inn door, peered inside, and then slipped away.
Outside the inn alley, Odo and another strong laborer were peering inside. Seeing the Red-head Ghost Kazak sneak back like a thief, Odo slapped Kazak on the head and reprimanded, “Why are you acting like a thief? Can’t you walk properly?!”
Kazak scratched his head, smiling apologetically at Odo, “That Patrol Officer is still there, but it looks like he’s about to leave. We need to hurry.”
“What’s the rush? Everyone, remember not to speak out of turn later.” With that, Odo led a few men towards the inn.
The bartender knocked on Art’s door. “Honored guest, three fellows say they are here to see you.”
Art quickly put down his luggage and followed the bartender downstairs.
He saw the fellow named Odo standing at the inn entrance with two other laborers.
Seeing Art come down, Odo stepped forward first and bowed to Art, saying, “Sir, we have carefully considered what you said and decided to come and see you.”
Art gestured for them to enter, and everyone followed Odo into the tavern.
“Please be seated, everyone.” Art invited the three laborers to sit at the long table.
Art surveyed the three men present. They were all the ones who had charged to the front in yesterday’s brawl. They wore coarse cloth tunics, their arms half-exposed, their skin dark, and their muscles powerful. There was a hint of fierce bravery in their reserved demeanor. Finally, his gaze fell upon Odo, who had black hair, blue eyes, and a robust build. It was clear that Odo was the backbone of these three.
Art’s gaze rested on Odo. “So, Odo, are you and your fellows willing to join my Patrol Team?”
“Sir, we are all laborers from Lucerne, tired of a life of begging and being bullied everywhere. We are not afraid of hardship, not afraid of fatigue, and even less afraid of death,” Odo said.
Art nodded in agreement and motioned for Odo to continue.
Odo, feeling more confident after the affirmation, took a deep breath and continued, “Sir, please forgive my rudeness, we want to go with you, but we want to confirm if what you said is true?”
“It’s reasonable, there’s nothing to forgive. Ron, go to my room and get the letter of appointment.” Art turned to Ron, who was standing behind him, and instructed.
“Gentlemen, could you introduce yourselves? Odo, you go first.” While Ron was away, Art carefully observed everyone.
“Yes, Sir. I was born in a village called Solo near Stepha in the North. My parents and younger brother all starved to death during the famine. I was the only one left in the family. To make a living, I wandered around and came to Lucerne three years ago to work as a laborer,” Odo quickly summarized his past.
Odo glanced at Kazak beside him, motioning for him to speak next.
Kazak was a bit nervous. He looked at the other person and, seeing that he had no intention of speaking first, could only stammer, “S-Sir, my name is Kazak, everyone calls me Red-head Ghost, I-I-”
“Where did all your usual ability go?” Odo slapped Kazak on the back of his hand, then smiled apologetically to Art, “Sir, Red-head Ghost is usually quite talkative. Don’t let his small stature fool you, he’s a good fighter.”
Art nodded, looking at Kazak, and smiled, “Hmm! He’s a good fellow too.”
Odo briefly introduced Kazak and the other man. Odo and the fellow called Hammer Bass were both bachelors. Red-head Ghost Kazak had a disabled, bedridden father at home. Odo originally didn’t want him to join, but he insisted on going south with Odo to try his luck.
As soon as the three finished their introductions, Ron came down holding a parchment. Art took the parchment, untied the silk string, and spread the letter of appointment flat in front of Odo and the others. Kazak was about to reach for it, but Odo slapped Kazak’s hand away. Kazak sat down, smiling apologetically and sheepishly.
“Sir, please don’t mind us, we are rough men. Actually, we can’t read what’s written on this. It’s just for peace of mind. Since what you said is true, we have no more concerns. Originally, there were a few other fellows who wanted to come today, but I didn’t let them. I don’t know how many people you need to recruit, and I was worried they wouldn’t be chosen. Besides, most of them have wives and children, and if they were to lose their lives going south with me, I wouldn’t be able to explain it to their families.”
Art nodded. “You all are excellent men. Odo and Bass can go south with me. But Kazak, if you leave, what about your father?”
Kazak was very anxious upon hearing Art’s words. He was worried Art wouldn’t take him, so he quickly looked at Odo with a pleading gaze.
Odo hesitated for a moment before asking in a low voice, “Sir, we also want to ask, is there a salary for being a Patrol Soldier in the South? It doesn’t matter for Bass and me, but it’s mainly for Kazak. He entrusted his elderly father to a fellow to care for, promising to bring back his Soldier’s salary to support his father.” Odo’s voice was a bit soft.
“Odo, I said, following me means being a Soldier and eating well. Since you are willing to risk your lives to follow me, I will not treat you unfairly. To be honest, my Patrol Team currently consists only of Ron and me. We will form a Patrol Team of over ten people before spring arrives. Before the team is fully formed, everyone will not have a salary; I will only cover your food and lodging. Once the team is fully formed, in addition to full food and lodging, I will give you a salary of no less than fifteen fenny per week. If you kill enemies, achieve merits, or have spoils of war, there will be additional rewards. But let me tell you first, the South is very chaotic, and patrolling is dangerous. Injuries and death are all possible. If you are afraid, then stay here and be a laborer. Once you eat my grain and take my pay, you must give your soul to God and sell your body to the devil. What do you say, are you in?” Art spoke very seriously.
The three men turned their heads and discussed in low voices. As laborers, their daily wage was less than two fenny, barely enough to feed one person. For those with families, it was a luxury to even have a full meal after a day’s hard work. In contrast, the treatment for Patrol Soldiers was good. Just the full food and lodging was attractive enough, not to mention the fifteen fenny salary per week. As for life and death, since they dared to come, they truly weren’t afraid.
So, the three of them all said in unison, “We are willing to serve you, Sir.”
“Ron! Tell the bartender to bring more beer and roasted meat. I want to drink a few rounds with these three good men.”