Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

6 month 5 day.

Early in the morning, the various groups at the camp began their work in an orderly manner according to their tasks.

On the hillsides on both sides of Griffin Valley, construction began simultaneously on two wooden fortresses.

Doug the shrew stood on the eastern hillside, yelling at the thirty-odd men, "Oak! I said oak! You fucking cut down pine trees? Do you want the enemy to come and see nothing but wood chips?"

The carpenter, who had been scolded, shrank back and continued cutting down trees.

"Doug is too fierce, no wonder his nickname is 'Spotted Dog'," a young prisoner muttered to his companion.

"The nickname 'Spotted Dog' isn't because he's fierce, but because he wags his tail so much." His companion wiped his sweat and smiled mysteriously. "I heard from the old folks that this Team Leader Doug was appreciated because he was so good at flattering and fawning."

"We don't even have the chance to flatter..."

Just then, Doug turned around and saw them using a tamper to compact the soil at the foundation. He yelled, "Harder! This isn't a fence for your vegetable garden! This is a watchtower!"

"Yes, team leader!"

The sounds of sawing, hammering, and shouting echoed through the valley. From above, the outlines of the two fortresses were already visible. They weren't castles, or even fortresses, but simply square courtyards enclosed by large logs, with arrow towers planned at each corner, twice the height of the walls. According to the design, each fortress would contain a well, storage room, and barracks. The outer walls would be sharpened to form rudimentary chevaux-de-frise, and a regular garrison of 15 men would be stationed there.

The western fortress is progressing faster because the slope there is gentler, making it easier to transport timber. The foreman there is Matthew Yokobeam, who is in charge and is discussing the angle of the arrow tower's firing ports with several craftsmen.

"Shoot diagonally downwards," a man with a missing front tooth gestured, "so that when the enemy climbs the wall, you can shoot them directly in the forehead."

"What if cavalry charges in? Should we shoot the horses from below in the belly?"

"The horse's belly? You should shoot the rider! If you shoot the rider down, the horse will run wild on its own..."

Matthew listened to the argument and watched the ant-like figures bustling about on the hillside. Further away, a large expanse of farmland had been cleared, and Tom was leading his men to irrigate it. This sight stirred a strange feeling within him, a deeper, slower surge, like the thawing of the earth in spring.

"I want to put down roots here," Matthew muttered to himself.

"What?" The person next to him didn't hear clearly.

"It's nothing." Matthew shook his head, grabbed an axe, and said, "Come on, let's put this section of the wall up. It has to be finished before noon."

..........

Just then, Peter led three squads of combat troops, pulling five vehicles, out of the camp, across the canyon, and onto the main road.

Everyone who was working stopped and saluted Peter and the heavily armored soldiers. The fortifications were a strong shield against the enemy, and these heavily armed warriors were the sharp swords to kill them! Although no one said it outright, the soldiers clearly held a higher status in the camp than the others.

Peter is leading three squads of soldiers out today to distribute them to various villages and help the residents of five villages rebuild their militia.

The mobilization order issued by the young lord of Borgo had conscripted almost all the village guards and adult men in the territory. Consequently, after the defeat, they were all captured, stripped of their weapons and armor. Although Peter later mercifully released all the villagers, the village guards, without weapons or armor, were left only with sickles, hoes, and other farm tools, rendering them practically defunct.

This time, Peter will not only go to each village to rebuild and train the militia, but also distribute armor to the militia, and later equip them with 4-meter-long rifles and long-handled flails.

Long spears use less iron, are easy to forge and easy to master, and can be used to emulate the Swiss of the same era, defending against enemies with collective strength and tight formations.

The long flail, which also uses little iron and is easy to forge, can be used as a farming tool for pounding wheat, and in battle it can be used to break armor with blunt force.

It can be said that spears and flails were very suitable weapons for militia members.

Soon, Peter and his party arrived at Dravico, the closest village to their camp. The village had only about fifty households. Most of the villagers made their living by logging and charcoal making, and there was also a leather craftsman. In the past, every month, they would transport the charcoal, fish, and leather produced in the village to Trossky Castle by horse-drawn cart.

Now that the lord has been defeated and the castle is under martial law, they no longer need to deliver goods. Upon seeing Peter and his party arrive, the village sheriff, old Deco, immediately came to greet them.

"Praise be to you, kind Lord Peter. How may I help you?"

"The sheriff said sincerely. Dravico was long ago seized and extorted by Handsome Charlie and his gang of bandits, but Lord Peter led his men to wipe them out; the villagers were forcibly conscripted and defeated, captured, but Lord Peter mercifully released them. The villagers all remember Peter's kindness. The Red Griffin is not a lord now, but he is more than a lord in comparison."

Peter calmly said, "I'm here to rebuild the village guard, but rename it the militia. Mr. Deco, you're no longer the sheriff; the militia will be managed and trained by my men. Do you have any objections?"

A fleeting look of melancholy crossed old Deco's face. Ever since the lord's defeat, his prestige as the sheriff appointed by the Polga family had waned considerably. He said with a touch of bitterness, "I have no objection; I will obey your orders."

Peter was satisfied with Old Deco's cooperative attitude and nodded, saying, "Although you are no longer in charge of the militia, I authorize you, in the name of the Griffin family, to serve as the village chief, responsible for all matters in the village except military affairs."

"Village chief?" Old Deco immediately perked up. It sounded like he had even more authority and influence than the sheriff. Although he'd lost the power to command the militia, he'd been compensated in other ways. "Thank you for the appointment, sir. I'm willing to serve the Griffin family!"

Old Deco felt no pressure to switch allegiances. Local lords had changed hands more than once or twice, but these local residents had lived on this land for generations. Whoever could bring them more benefits and security, they would naturally be more willing to serve.

Very good, the exchange of benefits was successful, and the handover of the village went smoothly. Of the more than fifty households, Peter only recruited strong men aged 18-40. These charcoal burners were physically strong because they spent their years logging, sawing trees, and burning charcoal.

The combat team members demonstrated their pistol formation in an open space in the center of the village. The spears gleamed coldly in the rising sun. The clanging of weapons and the synchronized shouts attracted more and more villagers.

"See?" Peter raised his voice. "If you're willing to learn, our people will come and teach you. You don't need to leave the village, you don't need to abandon your farm work, just two hours a day. Soldiers from elsewhere, brought in by Borgo, will enter Troski; they're not locals, they won't show you any mercy."

A weathered charcoal burner couldn't help but ask, "And then what? What happens when the lord's soldiers come?"

"Good question." Peter's gaze swept across the crowd. "When you are strong enough, they won't dare to come easily. And even if they do, they'll have to see if your spears will allow it!"

A commotion arose in the crowd. The person who had asked the question gritted his teeth and stepped forward first: "I'll learn! It's better than waiting to be robbed and killed! I served in the army when I was young. This kind of training... is very professional."

Peter seized the opportunity: "It's precisely because of your expertise that you can protect your families. Imagine, the next time robbers or insurgents attack, you won't just be able to hide at home and pray, but you can pick up weapons and protect your homes!"

These words ignited a fire in the hearts of the villagers.

The charcoal burner asked, "Sir, will we be able to win if we join the militia training?"

Peter didn't answer directly, but instead asked, "Why did you join the guard in the first place?"

He thought for a moment: "To protect my family, and... so that I won't be bullied anymore."

"Then remember this reason." Peter patted him on the shoulder. "When we fight for justice, God is on our side. Remember!" His voice echoed across the training field. "You are not only fighting for yourselves, but also for your families, your land, and your future!"

"Sir, I'd like to join!" the charcoal burner shouted.

"Okay, welcome to the team!"

Once there was a first, there was a second and a third. Soon, the militia of Dravico village began to take shape, with a tentative number of 40 members.

Peter left five heavily armored warriors to train them in formation and discipline. He first issued a batch of cloth armor, and after five days, when the spears and flails were made, he would then issue them weapons and the chainmail and even heavy armor that had been captured earlier.

Then continue forward, repeating the process, and appoint the village sheriffs and village chiefs of Zheleyov, Takhov, and Apolonia, and the executive officer and town mayor of Trossky. Establish militias in each village and recruit 200 strong men aged 18-40.

The heavy-armored combat teams were scattered like seeds, waiting to sprout.