Viscount Comas did not tamper with the supplies to be handed over the following noon. Perhaps, deep down, he was only too eager for
With ten additional freight wagons, Sedekamp no longer had to worry about loading and transporting the supplies. After a night of repairs and preparations, Lorist set out on the road northward once again on the morning of February eleventh.
Three days later, Lorist's convoy arrived at Nadegas, a border city between the Andinak Kingdom and the Madras Duchy. After resting for a day, they set out again, entering the Madras Duchy.
Compared to the Andinak Kingdom, the situation in the Madras Duchy was noticeably better, whether in terms of public welfare or public order. This was thanks to the Grand Duke of Madras, who during the imperial civil war had focused entirely on self-preservation — striking anyone who invaded but launching no offensive campaigns of his own, simply holding the border and strengthening his defenses. This earned him the nickname "the Hedgehog Grand Duke," and meant that the Madras Duchy suffered relatively little damage during the civil war.
Lorist's convoy traveled from the southern border of the Madras Duchy all the way to the northern — a journey of over thirteen hundred li. In seven days, they encountered only two groups of mountain bandits and one band of mounted bandits. Of course, these short-sighted rogues quickly regretted targeting the convoy. By the time they reached the
"My Lord, once we cross the Mitobro River, we'll be at the edge of the Northland. There are only about seven hundred li left. We don't need to rush through the night — even at a hundred li a day, we'll easily reach the family fief before March," Sedekamp said with a sigh of relief. He was glad that his and Pat's insistence on bringing back a large quantity of supplies hadn't delayed Lorist's return to inherit his title and family lands.
Before them, the Mitobro River stretched wide and calm, its clear waters flowing in silence.
Beyond the river, the terrain rose sharply in the distance, patches of deep green scattered among the endless mountains and rolling hills.
That was the Northland — the homeland of this body's original owner, young Lorist...
Lorist gazed into the distance. That would be his new home...
"I remember that ten years ago, when I left the Northland with the family caravan, we crossed a rope bridge. The river beneath it was surging violently — nothing like the calm peace we see here..."
"My Lord, what you're referring to is the Hendelif Rope Bridge. That's upstream on the Mitobro River, over a hundred li from here. Crossing the Hendelif Rope Bridge leads straight to Lord
"Where's the ferry crossing?" Lorist asked.
"Not far ahead, in Baron Shulas's fief. With so many carts and horses crossing, we'll be making Baron Shulas a nice sum in ferry fees," Sedekamp said.
"We still have to pay what's owed. Let's go — cross the river and make camp. We'll rest for a day," Lorist said.
...
As nobles, they enjoyed free passage through other lords' territories. A convoy like Lorist's, as long as it displayed the family crest and identified itself as a family convoy rather than a merchant caravan, could generally pass through checkpoints or traverse other lords' lands without paying a cent. But crossing the river was different — Lorist still had to pay the ferry fees.
Baron Shulas's ferry dock was not large, with only two ferry boats. A big sign stood on the dock, displaying clearly listed ferry fees at a glance: one person, one imperial silver coin; one horse, ten imperial silver coins; one fully loaded four-wheeled long-haul freight wagon, one imperial gold coin with the old king's profile, and so on. Even nobles received no free passage or discounts — the only privilege was priority crossing.
Lorist thought to himself that this "priority crossing" was worthless — hardly anyone needed to cross the river. The ferrymen on those two boats had practically been lounging around doing nothing, with just one old man sitting on a boat repairing an oar.
The arrival of the convoy turned the quiet ferry crossing into a scene of bustling commotion, so much so that it roused Baron Shulas himself. He came all the way to the dock with a small squad of garrison soldiers, personally overseeing the crossing, counting the vehicles, horses, and people that needed to cross. In the end, he took the ferry fees Lorist paid — a bulging sack full of gold coins — and was so delighted he could barely close his mouth. In high spirits, Baron Shulas ordered his men to bring several bottles of rare vintage wine from his manor castle, set up tables and chairs at the ferry crossing, and sincerely invited Lorist to come and sample them.
Lorist found this thoroughly exasperating. Each ferry boat could carry only one four-wheeled wagon and a few people at a time, with four ferrymen rowing with all their might, making a round trip in an hour. His convoy had nearly a hundred wagons, six hundred horses, and over five hundred people — how long would it take for all of them to cross on just two ferry boats? There were only eight ferrymen, and they too needed to eat, sleep, and rest. By this calculation, getting the entire convoy across would take at least six or seven days.
Baron Shulas was rather apologetic — after all, he'd collected a handsome sum in ferry fees — but his fief truly had only these two boats and these few ferrymen, so he could only express his helpless regret.
Lorist asked whether there were any ropes available.
His fief was situated along the riverbank, where reeds grew in abundance. Every year, Baron Shulas had his men harvest a large quantity of reeds, which were then woven into mats and ropes — something of a specialty product of his fief, earning him two or three gold coins of additional income each year.
Lorist had Baron Shulas send over a large supply of ropes. He had the ropes connected together and tied one to the bow and stern of each ferry boat. He then had men set up four large windlasses on each bank, connected to the ropes, using the windlasses to haul the ferry boats back and forth. This not only saved the ferrymen's strength — now only two ferrymen were needed on each boat to maintain balance and manage docking — but also dramatically cut the round-trip time from an hour to less than half, greatly speeding up the convoy's crossing.
Even so, by the time Lorist, as part of the last group, stepped onto the ferry, it was already the evening of the next day. Sedekamp had crossed ahead to meet him and, glancing back at Baron Shulas who had come to the shore specifically to see Lorist off, waving ceaselessly, said indignantly: "This one trip of our convoy has earned Baron Shulas nearly a hundred and fifty imperial gold coins. No wonder he's been so attentive — coming all the way here to see us off even as it's getting dark."
Lorist also waved a few times toward Baron Shulas on the shore. The previous evening, he had accepted Baron Shulas's invitation and brought Ovekis along to visit the baron's manor castle, which deeply moved the former bearded mountain bandit. In truth, Lorist had brought him only because Josk had taken Pat and Sedekamp across the river first to arrange the campsite, leaving only Reidi, Ovekis, and Lorist on this side. When the invitation came, Lorist figured it would be more reassuring to have Reidi oversee the remaining wagons and horses crossing, so he took the big-bearded man to the banquet instead.
Lorist presented Baron Shulas with a set of half-plate armor adorned with gold filigree patterns as a gift — spoils taken from the mounted bandits they had encountered on the road. It was unclear which unfortunate noble the bandits had robbed it from; the bandit chief had been wearing it with smug pride. Because it was so lavish and eye-catching, Josk had singled him out and put an arrow through his throat, ending the bandit chief's life. The splendid armor thus came into Lorist's possession.
Lorist estimated that this half-plate armor had been custom-commissioned by some horse merchant as a coming-of-age gift for a young man of some noble house, which was why the family crest had not yet been engraved on it. As a gift, it was perfectly suitable. Besides, Lorist himself had no fondness for such an ostentatious style — wearing something like that into battle was practically shouting at the enemy, "Come attack me! Shoot me with your arrows!" That sort of suicidal behavior was not Lorist's style.
Baron Shulas was delighted with Lorist's gift, practically unable to put it down. After the banquet, the bearded Ovekis excused himself to head to the dock and assist Reidi in arranging the convoy's overnight crossing, while Baron Shulas invited Lorist to his study to admire his collection of over a dozen bottles of aged vintage wine.
In the study, Baron Shulas once again expressed his gratitude to Lorist. He said that over the past three or four months, many Northland lords' family convoys had tried to cross at his fief's small ferry crossing, but limited capacity meant that many convoys, unwilling to wait, had gone to the Hendelif Rope Bridge instead, costing him a great deal in ferry fees. Now, thanks to Lorist's improvements, the dock's ferry boats had nearly doubled their efficiency, and he was confident this would attract many Northland family convoys to cross at his location.
Lorist found it puzzling — he had chosen this route specifically to avoid the Northland Grand Duke's territory because he didn't want to deal with Lord Lukins. But why would other Northland family convoys choose to cross here?
"Weren't the crossing fees at the Hendelif Rope Bridge half of what you charge here, Baron? Why would those Northland family convoys choose to cross here?" Lorist asked.
Baron Shulas laughed proudly. "The Northland Grand Duke Lord Lukins is famously greedy. The crossing fee at the Hendelif Rope Bridge may be half of mine, but once you cross, you're right at the Grand Duke's Frest Castle. Lord Lukins has set up strict checkpoints there. Although nobles pass through tax-free, the moment the Grand Duke spots supplies in a convoy that catch his interest, he confiscates them by force, offering only half their market value. The lucky ones lose just one or two wagons; the unlucky ones lose half their convoy. The Northland nobles are seething with resentment but can do nothing against the Grand Duke, so they'd rather cross at my little ferry."
Lorist stood on the ferry as the cold river breeze struck his face, leaving his mind remarkably clear. He recalled Baron Shulas's words from the previous evening. Although the Northland was vast and had the Mitobro River as a natural barrier, there were only two routes for external traffic. One was the Hendelif Rope Bridge connecting both banks, but that was firmly in the hands of the Northland Grand Duke. The other was the stretch of the Mitobro River near Baron Shulas's fief in the middle reaches, where the river curved and eddied for over a dozen li. However, this stretch of water was extremely wide and could only be crossed by ferry, not bridge, consuming a great deal of time.
The reason the Mitobro River served as the Northland's natural barrier was that wherever it flowed around the Northland, the banks were either sheer cliffs or the riverbed was choked with jagged rocks and violent rapids. Only in the middle reaches, along the dozen or so li of calm, eddying water in Baron Shulas's territory, was the river peaceful enough to navigate. Everywhere else, boating was simply impossible.
Lorist suspected that the Northland's sparse population and difficulty in attracting settlers to reclaim its wastelands — preventing the region from being fully developed — was precisely because these vital transportation chokepoints were in private hands. People like Grand Duke Lukins and Baron Shulas, who eyed nothing but the crossing fees they could collect — an inexhaustible gold mine. Without full development and sustained growth, how could any territory prosper? Just as the saying went back in his previous life: to get rich, first build roads. But if the roads were blocked, how could a fief develop?
Perhaps after inheriting his family domain, he would first need to plan and carve out a new external transportation route, to avoid having his throat seized by others. A long road indeed lay ahead. Lorist gazed at the distant mountains and rivers, a trace of melancholy and a mind full of concerns sinking into deep thought.
Because the river crossing had cost them an extra day, Lorist did not resume the journey back to his family domain until February twenty-fifth. He decided to cover the remaining six to seven hundred li in five days, arriving at the family domain before the end of February.
Once they entered the Northland, Lorist realized that what
After passing through only three fiefs, they had already witnessed five territorial conflicts. There were clashes between old-domain nobles and newcomers, lords summoning neighboring allies to help repel invaders, lords aiding friends in invading others' territories, old grudges reigniting between veteran lords, and new lords fighting each other over various grievances. In short, it was a free-for-all, with the sounds of battle and killing everywhere.
It was precisely because of the Northland's vastness and sparse population that these lordly wars, in Lorist's eyes, were nothing more than village-level brawls. Typically, a lord would bring two or three family knights and a few dozen garrison soldiers, then rally a hundred or two hundred peasant militia, and declare it a grand army before launching a large-scale collective brawl against a rival lord. The largest lord's force Lorist encountered numbered only four or five hundred men, all dressed in tattered peasant garb.
Ridiculously, this particular lord, who fancied himself strong and mighty, set his sights on Lorist's convoy, actually demanding that Lorist hand over half the wagons as a toll for safe passage. This was nothing but highway robbery, and Lorist was not about to let it slide. In defense of the sacred noble privilege of free passage, Lorist ordered his guard squad to launch a single charge, routing the opposing army with zero casualties. The arrogant lord knelt before Lorist, tears and snot streaming down his face, begging to ransom himself. In the end, he paid fifty fine Northland horses and four wagons full of grain to regain his freedom.
To avoid having lords drunk on battle set their sights on the convoy, Lorist ordered his guard squad to ride in full armor, putting on a show of force as an escort. Sure enough, after that, no more pesky flies came to harass them. On the fourth day, two lordly armies that had been fighting fiercely actually called a truce and cleared the main road to let the convoy pass through first.
On the fifth day, an endless primeval forest and an unbroken chain of mountains appeared before the convoy.
Sedekamp and Pat cheered: "My Lord, we've reached our family domain! That is the Black Forest, and those distant high ridges are the Demon Dragon Mountains. Beyond the Black Forest, those undulating hills are the Morgan Hills, and past the Morgan Hills, one more day's travel will bring us to our family castle estate..."
It took the better part of a day for the convoy to skirt the edge of the Black Forest. The Morgan Hills came into view...
But Sedekamp and Pat froze. At the mountain pass where the road ahead led into the Morgan Hills, a stone wall had appeared at some unknown time, and the banner flying atop it did not bear the image of a roaring bear — but rather three interlocking golden circles...