Chapter 96: Intimidation

The sky was a flawless blue, windless and still, the blazing red sun pouring down on the earth with merciless heat.

Claude crouched by the riverbank, scooped up a handful of water, and washed his face hard. The coolness of the water carried away the oppressive warmth, leaving him much more comfortable.

The holy warrior Johnny came up beside him and asked, “Captain, we’re nearly at the Marquisate of Victor. Shall we set out now?”

Seeing that Johnny wore only a linen shirt, Claude frowned. He adjusted the leather helm back onto his head and said, “Johnny, put on your leather armor.”

Johnny gave an embarrassed laugh. “Captain, it’s far too hot today. I’ll wear it again toward evening.”

Claude glanced around and saw that the other holy warriors had all taken off their leather armor. His expression turned stern as he said to Johnny, “Don’t forget the instructor’s teaching. For a holy warrior, armor is our life.”

With that, the tall and powerfully built captain strode toward the wagon parked by the road and shouted, “Holy warriors, gear up. We’re setting out!”

In weather this scorching, leading more than a thousand people on foot for hundreds of kilometers was exhausting even for holy warriors. Especially with heavy leather armor on, it felt as though they were trapped inside a furnace. When the caravan had halted by the river for a brief rest, the holy warriors had all removed their armor and splashed themselves liberally at the water’s edge. If not for the many women watching nearby, the young men would have leapt in for a bath. But since Captain Claude had already given the order, they reluctantly put their armor back on.

The order to depart had been given, yet after nearly an hour of running about and shouting, the caravan still had not moved. Free folk were simply too sluggish and scattered to form into ranks. Claude grew anxious and cast a covert glance at Bady beside him.

Bady understood at once. He waved his hand, and dozens of burly men armed with clubs sprang from the crowd, cursing as they began to herd everyone into order. Before long, everyone had finally gathered by the wagons.

Watching these free folk form ranks in only twenty minutes under the threat of clubs, Claude could only sigh.

Claude was an outstanding holy warrior raised by the church monastery. He had always held fast to the virtues of the holy warrior: devotion, courage, protection, sacrifice, compassion, and justice. When the man named Bady asked him to escort a group of free folk migrating to the Marquisate of Victor, Claude had agreed without hesitation. As a holy warrior, what reason could there be to refuse the protection of a people on the move? Yet what he had not expected was that more and more free folk would request to join the caravan, until within two days their number had swelled to over thirteen hundred. What were they to eat on the road? Claude had been stumped. Just when he was at a loss, a generous merchant donated a large supply of grain and twenty wagons.

Thus, the enormous migration set out under the protection of thirty holy warriors. Along the way, the young warriors hacked through thickets, drove off beasts, and won the admiration and affection of all. They took pride in it. But there was also a discordant voice in the company: Bady, the very man who had initiated the migration. He gathered a group around him and controlled the distribution of food, acting high-handedly toward everyone else, barking orders and striking people at the slightest offense. Claude warned him several times, but it did little good. In the end, after encouragement from another faction, the holy warriors stripped Bady of his leadership.

What happened after that left Claude deeply perplexed. First, the caravan stretched farther and farther out, and their pace slowed more and more. Then people began leaving the column on their own. At last, some free folk were even killed by beasts because they would not obey directions. Seeing the victims’ bodies, Claude was thoroughly disheartened. He came to understand that people loved the holy warriors, but they did not fear them. Without the intimidation of Bady’s men, these free folk became lax and disorderly.

At Claude’s hint, Bady was restored to command, and order returned to the caravan. Claude finally understood why the old holy warrior instructor at the monastery had given him a bitter smile and a shake of the head when he was appointed captain of the holy warrior squad. He remembered that the day before the squad set out, the old instructor had told him that once they reached Blackfort Town, he should look more, listen more, learn more, speak less, and decide less, because they were not yet qualified holy warriors. Claude had not taken those words to heart at the time. Now he felt them deeply.

“Bady, we were fortunate to have you this time,” Claude said sincerely. In truth, he did not like the man in the least.

Bady forced himself into an expression of respect and said in a low voice, “My lord, I had no choice on this journey. Someone had to maintain order. I have no prestige to speak of, so I could only play the villain.”

“Play the villain?” Claude murmured.

Seeing the holy warrior deep in thought, Bady cursed inwardly: I really stepped in a pile of filth this time!

Bady was both frustrated and alarmed. Originally, he had only wanted to organize two or three hundred people to go to the Marquisate of Victor and seek work there. He had never imagined so many would join the caravan. At first he had wanted to turn them away, but Holy Warrior Claude would not allow it. In the holy warriors’ eyes, all common folk were people to be protected. In the end, the caravan had swollen to thirteen hundred.

Bady knew he had gone too far. No lord would ever accept so many free folk at once. If the lord learned that Bady had organized them, then he would have to face the lord’s fury.

Halfway along, Bady had wanted to leave the caravan with a few companions and hurry ahead to the Marquisate of Victor. But he was a coward and feared death, so he could only continue at the plodding pace of the main body. Later, Claude had again asked him to keep organizing the people to move forward, because the caravan was too slow and the food was running out. With no way forward or back, Bady had had no choice but to grit his teeth and reorganize the column. In the end, it took a full twenty-six days before they finally neared the barony of Victor.

The two men each nursed their own thoughts as they led the caravan onward at a slow pace. When the setting sun slanted low, a cheer rose from the front of the caravan, their speed suddenly quickened, and they reached their destination.

Claude climbed a hillside and let out a long breath. He knew this journey was finally coming to an end. Looking at the smiling faces of the people, Claude felt that all their hardship had been worthwhile. Though the road had not been smooth, they had still succeeded in protecting the migrating folk. As long as he delivered these people into the lord’s hands, the burden on his shoulders would finally be lifted.

The caravan continued on in a relaxed atmosphere. Everyone wanted to reach the lord’s castle as quickly as possible. After walking about ten kilometers, the caravan came to a halt.

Just as Claude was wondering why, one of his men ran up and shouted, “Captain, the lord’s guards are ahead. They’ve blocked the road!”

Claude was overjoyed. “Has the lord sent escorts to meet us? Bady, let’s go. Bady? Where is Bady?”

No one answered. Only then did Claude realize that Bady had vanished without a trace. Though he did not know where Bady had gone, he still had to meet the lord’s guards and hand the people over, so he hurried forward.

When Claude reached the front of the caravan, he saw more than a hundred fully armed guards surrounding a young man of noble bearing. The man’s figure was slender and well-proportioned, his face handsome, his deep eyes like black crystal. His rare black hair accentuated an elegant, almost ethereal air, and with slightly pointed ears besides, Claude knew at once that this was the lord of the region, Baron Victor Wimbledon.

Claude stepped forward and bowed. “You must be Baron Wimbledon, then? I am Claude, captain of the holy warriors from the central church in Blackfort Town. May the glory of the Radiant Lord shine upon you.”

The young baron inclined his head slightly toward Claude and said with restrained dignity, “Yes, I am Baron Victor, lord of this land. Then, Captain Claude, can you tell me why the church has arranged for so many people to come to my territory?”

“My lord, these people were not arranged by the church. They came to your lands of their own volition, and we holy warriors merely escorted them along the way at their request. Since you have come to receive them, we shall take our leave at once.” Claude explained.

But the baron frowned and said, “I did not bring people here to receive them. In fact, I had no idea such a vast caravan would be migrating to my territory.”

Claude asked in confusion, “Then, my lord, what did you bring people here for?”

“There are dire wolves roaming this area, and not just one. They threaten my lands, so I brought my guards to exterminate them.”

Claude was stunned. Dire wolves were extremely troublesome beasts, with keen noses and incredible speed. Though holy warriors did not fear dire wolves, they were still unable to kill such cunning and vicious monsters. To ordinary people, dire wolves were the stuff of nightmares, and there was more than one of them.

Claude steadied himself, but doubt began to creep in as well. The Hills of the Centaurs were not some wild and monster-infested wasteland. How could there be packs of dire wolves? Yet the guards around the lord all looked tense and uneasy, and they did not seem to be pretending.

“My lord, are there really dire wolves here?” Claude asked hesitantly.

Victor said with displeasure, “Captain Claude, are you doubting that I am lying?”

“No, no, that is not what I mean, only...” Claude stammered, flustered.

“I understand what you mean. Though there are not many monsters in the Hills of the Centaurs, this is still a frontier territory. Ever since the centaurs of the forest moved away, we humans have been able to come here and open new lands. Those monsters and orcs are migrating here as well. Just a few months ago, with the aid of knights from the York family, we exterminated an ogre. The appearance of dire wolves here is nothing strange. You should know that my territory lies in the most remote part of the Hills of the Centaurs.” Victor sighed.

Claude hurriedly said, “My lord, since dire wolves are indeed roaming here, please take these people to your castle and shelter them. Otherwise, they will be in danger!”

Victor gave a wry smile. “I have been developing this territory for only a few months. The castle is very small; it cannot even house my own subjects, let alone so many people.”

Claude’s heart sank. He knew that the baron’s castle could only hold three hundred people, and he had brought thirteen hundred. No matter what, they could not be accommodated.

“Night will fall soon, Captain Claude. You should take these people back,” Victor advised.

Claude looked around at the panic-stricken free folk, bitterness filling his heart. Without food, even if they wanted to go back, they could not.

“My lord, please help these poor souls. They have traveled a long way to your lands, weary and starving. How can they possibly return now?” Claude pleaded.

Victor pondered for a moment. “Dire wolves have already blocked the road to the castle. You can no longer go forward, so you must first find a safe place to camp. Fifteen kilometers east from here is the border between the Viscount of Briat’s lands and the Hills of the Centaurs. It is relatively safe there. You may take the people there and set up camp until we have exterminated the dire wolves.”

“My lord, I am willing to help you exterminate those dire wolves. I only ask that you donate some grain. We have none left,” Claude said heavily.

Victor’s face darkened. “Holy Warrior Claude, you had no grain and still dared to bring so many people here to migrate? Do you know that I have been developing this land for less than seven months, and the crops I planted have not even been harvested yet? Where am I supposed to find surplus food? Were you planning to starve them to death?”

Faced with the lord’s questioning, Claude had no answer. Only then did he realize that he may have made a terrible mistake. These free folk, though living in hardship in Blackfort, could at least receive the church’s relief and the lord’s protection. But the barony of Victor, eight hundred kilometers away, had no ability to guarantee their survival.

“Captain Claude, night will fall soon. Take these people to the border and set up camp at once. I will have a shipment of grain sent over. However, my supplies are limited, so you must organize them to leave this dangerous area as quickly as possible. I will also send twenty guards to assist you for the time being.”

Victor added, “My own men include no knights, only one hundred guards. Right now, those dire wolves are ravaging my territory, so I must take my leave. Please be sure to advise these people not to wander off. Otherwise, no one can guarantee their safety.”

Watching the baron depart with his guards, Claude’s heart was full of confusion. They had clearly arrived safely at their destination, so why had things come to this?