"Kill all resisters! Kill all resisters! …" Armored soldiers on horseback shouted their warnings as they galloped from one end of the village to the other. Household by household, farmers gathered their meager belongings, their farming tools, and drove their livestock onto creaking ox-carts, assembling in the village square. There, a middle-aged man with a parchment roster called out names and sorted them into three groups, each sent off in a different direction on an uncertain journey.
The southbound column was the smallest — village elders, constables, tax collectors, mill owners, and other members of the local administrative class. They were the backbone of Duke
The westbound column was not large either, but these people were all relatives of the Northland Corps. Under the agreement between
The northbound column was by far the biggest. They would travel to a camp a hundred li away, where they would wait to be sorted into groups and shipped off to Baron Spencer's territory, merged into the refugee camps, and eventually sent to the
"We can burn it now…" An armored soldier corporal gave the order. A dozen soldiers began hurling torches into the thatched-roof cottages. Before long, the entire village was engulfed in a sea of fire, and a thick column of black smoke rose into the sky.
The farmers, not yet far gone, looked back at their burning village and wept. This had been their home — the place that sheltered them from wind and rain, where whole families had clung to one another for survival…
The fierce-looking escort soldiers rushed over and bawled at them at the top of their lungs: "What are you crying about? Nothing to cry over! Out with the old, in with the new! Our lord says that once you reach the family territory, every single one of you will get new farmland and new houses — nothing like those miserable hovels you're leaving behind…"
Countless columns of smoke rose over the southern Grand Duchy — the very heartland of the Northland. Village after village was reduced to ash in the flames. With the help of his guides, Lorist had swept through the entire Grand Duchy in just sixteen days. The two estate castles, six towns, and the capital of Gildusk in Duke Lukins's territory had all fallen into his hands.
Across the whole southern Grand Duchy, the only forces remaining were Hennerd's five thousand men holed up in the estate castle at Cherry Blossom Ridge and the town of Evanson, dug in for a stubborn defense, plus another five thousand Northland Corps soldiers guarding the Hendley Foso Bridge checkpoint and the fortress castle at
The
With that Northland Corps expeditionary force broken, the Norton Family's troops had nothing left to fear in the southern Grand Duchy. They looted the Duke's treasury, granary, and armory without restraint, confiscated the property of every noble under the Duke, and forcibly seized the goods and wagons of every merchant caravan that had entered the Grand Duchy. Following Lorist's relocation order, they then turned their attention to the villages.
…
"This was an unprecedented, premeditated, organized, and systematic campaign of mass plunder. The Norton Family's troops, known as the Northland's Roaring Bears, were more rapacious and more savage than any bandit or mountain outlaw. They gutted the treasuries of every town. They confiscated the nobles' possessions. They stripped the wealthy of everything they owned. They did not even spare a crude clay basin.
My caravan endured untold hardships to transport our goods to the Northland, only to be robbed the moment we arrived at Gildusk, the capital of the Grand Duchy. We had just checked into an inn when armored Norton Family soldiers, ignoring our furious protests, forcibly requisitioned our entire shipment — and paid only half its value. While that half did not put me at a loss, it was a far cry from the profit I had anticipated. My poor little Tinnie, your father is useless — he can no longer buy you that beautiful evening gown that would have made you shine like a princess…
Originally, the plan was to sell our goods, purchase Northland specialties, and head back. But with chaos and soldiers everywhere, and every supplier I had previously contacted robbed by those armored Norton Family soldiers, I could not find a single merchant I knew. Under those circumstances, I decided to leave this place as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, our wagons needed repairs and our pack horses needed new horseshoes before they could travel.
So I went looking for a blacksmith. But I had never anticipated that a city of nearly a hundred thousand people — Gildusk — would not have a single blacksmith left. I spent a good sum of money to learn that the Norton Family's troops had forcibly taken away every blacksmith and artisan in the city, along with their entire families. They had not even spared the common servants and laborers. The only people left in the city were lords and merchants, and on top of that, they had brought in a great number of village elders and officials from the surrounding countryside…
When I returned to the inn, I realized I no longer needed to worry about the wagons. The armored Norton Family soldiers had appeared again. This time they came to requisition our caravan's vehicles. I did not bother protesting — I told them to help themselves. To their credit, they paid market price for the wagons and pack horses, and they even paid in Gold Fordes.
Destruction everywhere, black smoke billowing. The villagers, burdened by their belongings, shielding their wives and children, were herded in tears onto ox-carts by ruthless Norton Family soldiers and marched north…
Along both sides of the road, tall gallows appeared at intervals, each bearing the body of a rural lord or a brave soul who had fallen resisting the Norton Family's depredations. We dared not recover their remains, because armored Norton patrol soldiers on horseback passed by frequently. We had obtained a travel pass when we left the city, and the patrols, upon discovering we were merchants, did not trouble us too much — though people were always coming over to inspect our belongings, which was an endless nuisance.
We had no carts or horses, so everyone had to go on foot, carrying enormous packs on their backs. We even built a wooden frame and loaded our camping gear onto it, dragging it by hand, which made us painfully slow. On horseback, we could have reached Hendley Foso Bridge in a single day, but it looked now like even three days would not be enough.
That night, while we were camped, a patrol of cavalry rode up and rested briefly at our campsite. Only then did I notice that their iron breastplates bore a silver lion emblem. The mercenary captain beside me whispered that this was standard-issue equipment of the famous White Lion Legion of the old Krisen Empire.
So I brought out a few bottles of fruit wine and invited the soldiers to have a drink. Then, affecting surprise, I pointed at the silver lion emblem and asked if they were the famous White Lion Legion. The soldiers shook their heads and said they were all family soldiers of Count Norton. I was astonished and asked whether the Norton Family was not merely a barony — how had they become a count?
Those soldiers told me with great pride that the Norton Family's convoy had traveled northward and, while passing through the Andinak Kingdom, had helped the
I asked the soldiers why they had taken those poor villagers away and burned their villages. The soldiers replied with righteous anger that this was to teach that greedy Northland Grand Duke a lesson — to make him stop eyeing the Norton Family's wealth. Because that wealth had been earned through the blood and sacrifice of every Norton Family soldier, who had fought to develop the family's territory and build a beautiful homeland where their loved ones could live in peace. They were carrying out the lord's Three Alls policy — rob all, burn all, relocate all — to ensure that the Northland Grand Duke would have neither the will nor the strength to harass their happy lives on Norton Family territory again…
Perhaps thanks to my fruit wine, the patrol soldiers left me an old horse when they departed, along with a letter certifying that our caravan was friendly to the Norton Family. This spared us a great deal of trouble on the rest of our journey. The squad leader even tipped me off about a business opportunity before he left: after crossing the Hendley Foso Bridge, I could scour the far bank for wagons and horses and sell them to the Norton Family troops camped near the Frest fortress — they were buying at high prices…
This could be a good business. I had actually planned to acquire wagons and horses on the far side of the bridge anyway. Now that I thought about it, the squad leader made a lot of sense — the Norton Family had relocated so many villagers from the Grand Duchy that they were surely short on transport. I could give it a try; maybe it would make up for this caravan's losses. So I ordered my people to set out as quickly as possible and reach Hendley Foso Bridge without delay…"
This was a Northland journal written by a merchant who had traveled to the Northland to trade. This diary-like little book caused a great sensation centuries later. From a completely different angle, it described what history would call the Ravaging of the South, providing later scholars and experts with extraordinarily detailed source material for studying the rise of the Norton Family.
…
"Bliss…" Knight Hennerd set down the back of a chair he had smashed to pieces and surveyed the wreck of Duke Lukins's study — his handiwork of the past half hour. He looked immensely pleased with himself.
He raised his head and caught Lorist looking at him as though he were a lunatic.
Hennerd bristled slightly: "What's with that look? Why are you staring at me like that? Let me tell you — smashing up the Duke's study has been one of my fondest wishes for years. Back when we reported to the Duke, anything that set him off would send him smashing up his own study right in front of us. We had to stand there trembling, waiting for him to finish and calm down… So I've always wanted to smash his study right back. Today I finally got my wish."
Lorist snorted dismissively: "That's the height of your ambition? It seems the Duke left quite an impression on you, if smashing his study once is enough to fulfill your dreams. You really are like a child…"
Hennerd jumped to his feet: "I was never afraid of him! He was just my liege lord — as a family knight, I could not go against his will. But now I'm Baron Shaxin. As a lord in my own right, I can rightfully refuse the Duke's unreasonable demands…"
Lorist said impatiently: "Are you done yet? If you've had your fun, let's go. I still have plenty of things to deal with."
"Fine, fine. What's so important that it can't be delegated to your subordinates? Running yourself ragged like a dog — not very lordly at all." Hennerd walked along, wrapping a gray linen scarf around his head to cover his face. "Wait — I need to cover up first, so nobody recognizes me…"
The gravely wounded Knight Hennerd — the very same man — had shown up in Lorist's tent that very evening, claiming he wanted to go with Lorist back home to retrieve his four concubines. In truth, he was serving as Lorist's guide.
Lorist had not treated him poorly. A brigade of his soldiers had sneaked into the main camp and emerged wearing full sets of iron armor — all cast-off equipment from the caravan's own re-armament. When Hennerd saw the bargain to be had, he simply dragged his other brigade in as well and had them fitted with iron armor too. The estate castle at Cherry Blossom Ridge, where he had left a garrison, now had barely three hundred men — less than a single squadron.
These Northland Corps soldiers, now kitted out in iron armor and posing as Norton Family troops, behaved even more ruthlessly. Their looting was more thorough, and their treatment of resisting rural lords and officials even more cruel. With five thousand men who knew the Grand Duchy's terrain like the back of their hand serving as guides, Lorist commanded his forces to sweep through the Duke's territory like an autumn gale scattering fallen leaves, unstoppable wherever they went.
The only wrinkle was that Hennerd had sent his Silver Knights to recruit over two thousand Northland Corps soldiers garrisoned at various locations, then came shamelessly knocking on the main camp's doors again, pestering Lorist to outfit these two thousand men in iron armor as well.
The surrender of the Northland Corps squadron guarding Gildusk, the capital of the Duke's territory — that had been Hennerd's handiwork too. He had sent one of his Silver Knights to tell the squadron commander not to smash eggs against stones, to avoid pointless sacrifice that would only drag in their families. To preserve their fighting strength, they could surrender first, request passage to Cherry Blossom Ridge, and then, under Hennerd's leadership, restore the glory of the Northland Corps.
And so Gildusk fell into Lorist's hands. Hennerd then dragged Lorist to the Grand Ducal estate, saying he wanted to fulfill a wish he had harbored for a very long time. Only then did Lorist discover that Hennerd's wish was to smash up the Duke's study…
Reidi came forward: "My lord, we found someone in the water dungeon of the Ducal estate…"
After a moment's hesitation, Reidi reported the name: "Baron Kamora…"
Lorist was startled: "Who did you say? Baron Kamora?"
Beside them, Hennerd — face still wrapped in his scarf — leaped up: "How did he end up in the water dungeon? No wonder I sent people to deliver a message to him and could never find him. Bring him here quickly…"
Reidi knew that this mysterious, face-wrapped figure was Knight Hennerd. Seeing Lorist nod, he ran off to fetch the prisoner.
…(To be continued.)