“Master, I’ve told you, we are really going to Tinietz to find someone; he’s the owner of a grain store north of Tinietz. Please, just let us pass. Or, if there’s anything you want, I’ll give it to you.” The fat old man began to bend down and open his package, taking out several rye bread loaves and a handful of small coins.
“Alright, alright, what would I want with your junk? I just want your people.”
The old man plopped to his knees, and the two fellows behind him also knelt down.
This was the second wave of refugees to refuse Ron Brothers’s recruitment. The previous refugees, who were drinking barley porridge by the copper pot, were so frightened when they learned that Art wanted to send them to a village fort at the foot of Bore Mountain in the southeastern border region of Burgundy Earl that they dropped their wooden bowls and knelt, begging for mercy. They regretted being blinded by the fragrant, thin porridge and were convinced that these people who let them eat and drink for free were human traffickers kidnapping slaves for slave owners. Although they were now displaced refugees, at least they still retained their status as freemen. If they were tricked into becoming serfs or even slaves, that would truly be a life with no end in sight.
Ron Brothers was already a bit disheartened. He ignored the kneeling refugees and went to Art, who was sitting by the campfire sharpening his sword. “Master, this… how is this different from when we recruited refugees before? Look how proactive those refugees were when we recruited them previously.”
Art put his brightly polished knight’s sword back into its sheath, stood up, and patted the dirt off his backside. He stared at the refugees being “guarded” by Jason and said, “Ron Brothers, think about it. If it were you in this desolate place, and suddenly a group of people with knives and swords appeared and told a solitary you that they wanted to take you to a completely strange place to live a good life, would you go?”
Ron Brothers thought for a moment, then shook his head, “Probably not. If they were bad people, I wouldn’t be able to escape alone.”
“What if one person said the same thing to a group of you?”
“Then I would consider it. After all, there are many of us, so even if the other party is evil, they would fear our numbers and not dare to act recklessly.”
Art turned and stared into Ron Brothers’s eyes, saying, “Right now, we are those roadblocks who are being seen as ‘bad people’.”
Ron Brothers seemed to understand. “No wonder the last few times, as soon as we mentioned providing food and drink to recruit refugees, they scrambled to be chosen. It turns out it was because there were more wolves than meat, so they were bolder.”
“But Master, we’ve waited so long, and we haven’t seen a large group of refugees passing by. The three or two refugees who occasionally pass by don’t dare to accept the offer.” Ron Brothers started scratching his head again.
“I didn’t expect it to be like this now. I originally thought there would be many refugees fleeing north at this time.” According to Art’s plan, he was simply copying the previous refugee recruitment experience: boiling a pot of steaming barley porridge in a place where a large number of refugees passed, and when the refugees were drooling, announcing the recruitment of refugees to clear land and farm, and then taking the recruited refugees to Andermatt Fortress to Baron Antayas to collect money and be done with it.
However, the current situation was quite different from what Art had expected. He did not know that Provence had strictly ordered all northern regions to prevent large-scale refugee escapes to the north. Organized refugee groups in the eastern region had already been blocked at Kitzby, a major town in the northeast. Most of the refugees fleeing to Burgundy Earl via this trade route during this period were scattered individuals who had slipped through, and a small portion were “wealthy” refugees who genuinely had relatives in the north to depend on and could bribe checkpoints for passage.
“Ron Brothers, let’s try a different approach.” Art thought for a while, then went over to the refugees.
“Alright, all of you get up. I’m not planning to keep you.”
The fat old man looked up at Art and said, “Master, you’re letting us go?”
“What else can I do if I don’t let you go? However, you ate my food, so you can’t just leave like this.”
The fat old man looked understanding, took a few copper fennies from his package, and intended to hand them to Art.
Art waved his hand, refusing, “Do I look like someone who covets your few copper coins? See that small stream? Go to that stream and collect stones to pile on this mound. Work until evening, and I’ll let you go. And before you leave, I’ll even let you have another free meal of barley porridge.”
The fat old man didn’t understand what Art was trying to do, but since he was willing to let them go, he had no choice but to comply.
Art turned to the several refugees who had arrived earlier and were temporarily guarded by Jason, saying, “You too, if you’ve eaten my food, you must work for me. Go and move stones. I promise by God that I will let you leave by evening.”
Simon watched the five or six refugees going down to the stream to pick up stones, then moved closer to Ron Brothers and asked in confusion, “Ron Brothers, what is Master trying to do? We’re here to recruit refugees, not to dredge rivers. What’s the use of this?”
“I don’t know what Master wants to do, but since he’s doing this, there must be a reason.”
While the two were discussing, Art had already returned to the campfire.
“Simon, go and watch those fellows. Don’t let them be lazy.”
“Jason, continue boiling the barley porridge. Add some smoked meat and salt to the pot and simmer it until the aroma comes out.”
“Ron Brothers, you go stand at the bridgehead. If there are any passing refugees, tell them that we need help here, and anyone willing to work will get a full meal. After eating and working, they can leave. Do not mention recruiting refugees.”
Thus, when the sun was high in the sky, a few more people who had eaten free food and were now working appeared at the “construction site” between the stream and the mound.
Before evening arrived, there were already seventeen or eighteen refugees around the mound. Upon learning that they could get food by doing some simple tasks for these Masters, they all unhesitatingly went down to the stream and started moving stones.
After dinner, the first five or six refugees who arrived had already left. However, about ten refugees at the mound chose to stay and continue working, because the “benevolent people” who provided them with food and drink said that they still needed people to collect stones and cut wood tomorrow. They decided to stay here and get a few more full meals, and then leave once the work here was done. Anyway, the next place they arrived might not have food, and such “good fortune” was rare.
At dusk, two bonfires burned around the mound by the stream. One bonfire was crowded with well-fed refugees, and the other was Art, who was roasting smoked meat on a stick over the flames, the aroma of charring already spreading.
Ron Brothers tied up the warhorse and the mule, then returned to the campfire. “Master, the warhorse and the mule have been fed. Tonight, Simon and Jason are responsible for watching the livestock and supplies. Those refugees seem quite honest, so no one should have any ill intentions.”
“Hmm, tell Simon to still be careful.”
Ron Brothers continued, “Master, your method is truly brilliant. You’ve kept these scattered refugees with just one meal of barley porridge. If this continues, in less than two days, a hundred or so refugees will gather here. Then we can recruit enough refugees and Soldiers for Baron Antayas from among them. And we’ve also collected enough stones and wood in advance, so when we build a checkpoint, it will save us a lot of trouble.”
“But Master, we only brought four hundred and fifty pounds of grain this time. Adding the rations we each carried, it’s only enough to supply fifty or sixty people for about ten days, and we still have to take the recruited refugee Soldiers to Andermatt Fortress.”
Art tore off a large piece of oily smoked meat and told Ron Brothers to take it to Jason and Simon. When Ron Brothers returned, he tore off another piece and handed it to Ron Brothers, then took a big bite of what was left in his hand, chewing for a long time before answering, “Ron Brothers, I know there’s not enough grain, but we can buy grain on the way to Andermatt Fortress. As long as we recruit enough refugee Soldiers, Baron Antayas will pay as agreed. We don’t need to save money for him.”
By the afternoon of the second day, the mound had become a lumber and stone yard. Ron Brothers and the others led seventy or eighty refugees back and forth between the mound, the stream, and the dense forest at the foot of Carmel Mountains, a mile and a half away, cutting and transporting wood and stone. On the mound, seven or eight slightly older or weaker refugees and half-grown children were diligently stacking fifty or sixty logs of varying thickness and large piles of stones neatly on top of the mound.
Below the mound, five large pots brought by the refugees themselves had been set up, and several old women were adding firewood to the flames. Rich barley porridge was boiling in the large pots.
On the sixteenth day since leaving Andermatt Fortress, with only four days left until the agreed time with Baron Antayas, Art decided to recruit new villagers and garrison Soldiers for Baron Antayas from these seventy or eighty refugees.
Dusk had not yet fallen, but the fiercely burning bonfires were exceptionally conspicuous in the slightly dim wilderness.
Ron Brothers stood on top of the mound and loudly addressed the refugees gathered around the bonfire, waiting for the porridge to be served: “Brothers, the barley porridge will be ready soon. Our Master said you’ve worked hard these past two days. Your work is done, and this evening’s barley porridge has minced meat added to it. Everyone can leave after eating and drinking their fill.”
A stir arose among the crowd. For the past two days, they had been doing light but not heavy work here, yet they managed to get three meals of barley porridge a day. Such a convenience was rare to encounter during their escape…
A gaunt old man squeezed out from the crowd and shouted to Ron Brothers on the mound, “Young Master, could you please tell your Master to let us work a few more days? I see that you Masters plan to build houses here, right? We can be laborers for you, as long as you Masters can give us a full meal.”
Ron Brothers, hearing this, put on an expression of great difficulty: “This… In a few days, people will come here to build houses, and there’s no need for more hands. Look at how much grain you consume in a day. This grain was originally intended for the workers who would come to build the houses. My Master was kind enough to give it to you to eat. But now there are too many of you, we really can’t afford to keep you. You should eat this meal of barley porridge and hurry on your way while it’s still early. If you walk north for another three to five days, you’ll encounter people. Although there are many bandits, mountain brigands, and robbers along the way, you are already so poor that you have nothing, so you probably aren’t afraid of them robbing you. These fellows generally don’t kill people; at most, they’ll just scare you and chop off an arm or a leg or something.”
The gaunt old man’s face began to show terror.
“Oh, I should remind you, it’s best not to stop at a village called Ryan, about four days north of here. The lord there is a bloodthirsty demon. I’ve personally seen several groups of passing refugees killed by him, and those who survived were sold to slave owners.”
“Also, Tinietz is short on food right now, so you’d better not stop in Tinietz. Go directly around Tinietz and walk north for another ten days or so. You might find a way to survive in Lucerne City. The people there are slightly better to refugees and beggars from the south, at least not like Tinietz City, where they occasionally massacre old and weak refugees…”
A collective gasp of cold air rippled through the crowd. They had mentally prepared for the hardships of the escape north, but they never expected it to be so fraught with danger.
“Young Master, please don’t say anymore. These past two days, I’ve observed your behavior, Masters, and you are definitely good people. If you Masters pity us poor people who have lost our homes and land, please show us a way to survive.” The gaunt old man took the lead in pleading with Ron Brothers, and a chorus of pleas immediately rose from the refugees who had recovered their senses.
Ron Brothers was unmoved and continued to shout loudly, “How can you be like this? Do you expect my Master to provide you with food and drink every day? Everyone, there’s no need to say anything more. Finish your meal and leave quickly.”
“We still have to rush to Kitzby in the south tomorrow to recruit farmers!”
Ron Brothers’s second sentence was not loud, but the gaunt old man definitely heard it. “Young Master, you said you’re going to Kitzby to recruit farmers?”
“Yes, that’s right. We are recruiting for a noble Master. This year, that Master’s territory had a great harvest, and he plans to recruit more farmers to cultivate the land. So, that noble Master entrusted us to recruit a group of refugees in the south to cultivate his land. Those Masters are kind-hearted and said that anyone who goes will be allocated land and given grain and farm tools. If they want to return home later, it’s not impossible. However, the conditions they offer are excellent, so the requirements are high: they must be strong farmers and farmwomen.”
“Young Master, why run to Kitzby to recruit farmers? Aren’t we already here?” the gaunt old man said, and several people around him echoed him in fragmented sentences.
Ron Brothers had a look of disdain. “That noble Master said they must be strong men and strong women. Look at all of you, as thin as firewood. It’s only because my Master is kind-hearted that he lets you do some work and gives you a few full meals. There are plenty of young and strong farmers in Kitzby now; it’s easier for us to recruit there.”
At this moment, another slightly sturdier man shouted, “Young Master, the Provence Court no longer allows refugees to flee north. We all snuck out. Besides, we’re only thin because we’re hungry. If we can eat our fill for a few days, we’ll be strong men again.”
Ron Brothers was getting impatient. “But my Master has already arranged with the Administrator of Kitzby to recruit farmers in Kitzby, and he never intended to recruit people here.”
The gaunt old man became anxious. “Young Master, please, please tell Master that we are all strong laborers. It’s just that we’ve been traveling for too long and struggling to get enough food that we appear weak. As long as we can eat our fill, everyone will have strength in less than half a month.”
“This… I… how can I say… You should just eat the barley porridge and leave quickly.” Ron Brothers said, jumping down the mound and going to the large pot to distribute barley porridge to everyone.
Several refugees who felt they could be chosen came up and surrounded Ron Brothers, all asking him to plead for them.
Just then, Art, who had been out hunting, “coincidentally” returned. Ron Brothers, unable to withstand everyone’s pleas, had no choice but to agree to plead for them, and Art, after several rejections, finally “reluctantly” agreed to recruit farmers and Soldiers from these refugees…
Thus, after two days of waiting and a clumsy performance, Art successfully recruited thirty-six refugees and ten Soldiers. This number basically met Baron Antayas’s requirements, but Art didn’t really pick out the strong ones; everyone who was willing to stay was recruited.
And the gaunt old man who had been cooperating with Ron Brothers would also receive ten fennies as a “hardship fee” and twenty pounds of grain from Art upon arriving at Andermatt Fortress…
That evening, the refugees who were unwilling to be recruited left reluctantly after dinner.