Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Chapter 140 Horseback Court

Peter gladly accepted Marika's invitation to the horse farm near Lion Village. He walked in the middle, with Pavlena, who followed quietly like a pure white flower, on his left, and Marika, who was vibrant and beautiful like a red rose, on his right.

Although Lion Village is a new village, it is well-planned, with sturdy wooden houses and smooth roads. At this time, the villagers had already begun their day's work. Upon seeing Peter and his group, they all stopped what they were doing and greeted them warmly.

Good morning, Mr. Peter!

Good morning to you all!

Peter responded with a smile.

"May God bless you, sir!"

"Sir, the wheat is growing exceptionally well today!"

An old farmer who was repairing a fence put down his tools, awkwardly bowed, and his face was full of heartfelt smiles: "Sir, on patrol again? You truly are the most diligent lord in Bohemia!"

Peter smiled and nodded in response: "Old John, make sure the fence is sturdy, or the wild boars will get in and ruin your vegetable garden."

"Don't worry, sir! With you here, even wild boars won't dare to come!" Old John laughed heartily.

A woman carrying a wooden basin, preparing to wash clothes by the river, whispered to her companion, "Look, our lord has gone out again with two ladies. I heard he refused to stay at Trossky Castle and is willing to stay in our little village."

"Yes," his companion chimed in, his eyes brimming with pride. "Other lords hide in their castles and enjoy themselves, but our lord eats the same bread and drinks the same water as us, and practices swordsmanship every day to protect us."

"I heard that the castle is covered with oriental carpets and lit with whale oil candles! But the adults say that it doesn't have the lively atmosphere of Griffin Village."

"Following such a lord is our good fortune!"

These villagers were mostly landless peasants whom Peter had rescued or recruited from exile, banditry, or oppressive rule. They had once lived a precarious existence, and Peter had given them land, security, and dignity. Therefore, their respect for Peter far exceeded the ordinary relationship between lord and vassal; it was more like the love and devotion they felt for a patriarch or a guardian deity.

Peter's choice to remain in Lion Village, rather than at Trotsky Castle, a symbol of power and status, deeply won them over, making them feel that there was no insurmountable gap between them and their lord. This sense of closeness translated into extremely high loyalty and pride. The smiles on every villager's face, every sincere greeting, formed the most solid foundation for the legitimacy of Peter's rule.

The military horse ranch is located in a lush river valley in the southwest corner of Griffin Village. Even before you get close, you can smell the aroma of hay, horse manure, and a unique, vibrant scent that belongs to the horses.

In the stable, a tall and magnificent Hanover mare paced restlessly, her belly noticeably swollen and her breathing heavy. Experienced grooms surrounded her, their expressions tense and focused.

"My lord, look," Marika whispered, but her excitement remained undiminished, "it is the mother of the 'child' we've been waiting for, a brave Hanoverian warhorse, a perfect combination of endurance and speed."

Marika described the military horse farm to Peter with great familiarity: "Our military horse farm currently has fifteen warhorses, mainly crossbreds of Hanoverian and Arabian horses, combining the strength and endurance of the former with the agility and intelligence of the latter. Over there are a few Friesian horses; look at their glossy black coats and elegant gait—they are ideal mounts for heavy cavalry, but their feeding costs are also high—"

"We raise warhorses strictly separately from ordinary packhorses," Marika pointed to another fence in the distance. "Packhorses are mainly used for labor, and they are different in size and temperament. Warhorses need the best hay, the most meticulous training, and," she paused, giving Peter a meaningful look, "the finest knights."

"This mare," Marika returned to the main point, her eyes tenderly fixed on the restless horse, "was captured during our last bandit raid. She must have been pregnant for a long time when we captured her; the guy who rode her into battle deserved a good beating!"

Peter laughed heartily. Was it possible that the knight only had this one horse? In order to answer the lord's call and to avoid losing face, he had to ride even a pregnant mare to the front lines.

Just then, the mare let out a neigh and began to give birth. Marika immediately ran over, and with the help of the other horses, after a struggle, a wet, sticky little life finally slid onto the hay-covered ground. It was a small, jet-black foal with long limbs. Although it was still unsteady on its feet, it was already trying to raise its head and let out a soft whimper.

The birth of a new life always carries a powerful, moving force. A suppressed cheer suddenly erupted from the stable.

Pavlina excitedly grabbed Peter's arm, her eyes glistening with tears of emotion and joy.

"My lord, this little colt is our hope."

Marika's words were filled with anticipation for the future: "It symbolizes that our warhorse farm has officially entered the right track. In the future, we will breed outstanding warhorse bloodlines belonging to our Troschi, and to your Griffin family! No longer relying on imports, no longer being controlled by others! We will let the reputation of 'Lion Rider' resound throughout Bohemia along with the warhorses we breed!"

"Yes, it will!"

Peter looked at the little life struggling to its feet, then at the two women beside him, so different yet equally captivating, and a warm feeling welled up inside him. This wasn't just the future of the horse farm, but also his commitment to putting down roots in this land.

A symbol of growth.

Emerging from the horse ranch, a summer breeze caressed their faces, carrying the fragrance of grass and wildflowers. Still immersed in excitement, Marika turned to Peter and asked, "Sir, things are alright at the horse ranch for now. What are your plans? Will you continue practicing your swordsmanship?"

Peter shook his head, his gaze lingering on the distant horizon of the territory: "The 'Judicial Court,' where I also serve, has accumulated some legal disputes. I'm preparing to tour the territory again to resolve these backlogged conflicts."

He smiled, recalling a vivid metaphor: "I call it a court on horseback."

"A court on horseback?"

Marika's eyes lit up, her amber pupils sparkling with curiosity and excitement. "This sounds so interesting!"

"My lord, please take me with you! I'm a good rider and can run errands for you!" she eagerly volunteered, glancing at Pavlena beside her with a hint of provocation.

Pavlina, who had been listening quietly, was not to be outdone by Marika's actions. She gently tugged at Peter's sleeve, her voice soft yet firm: "Sir, I can handle the financial work myself. I can also help with recording cases and tallying fines."

She raised her lake-blue eyes, a hint of pleading in them, "Let me follow you too, my lord."

The two women's eyes met briefly in the air, as if invisible sparks flew between them. They both knew their origins—Pavlena was an orphan, Marika a Gypsy—and that they might never become Lord Peter's official wife. But at this moment, the lord was unmarried, and the position closest to him was filled with endless temptation. Even just becoming a publicly acknowledged mistress meant status, security, and—the opportunity to get closer to that dazzling star.

The competition is quietly escalating in this summer breeze.

Peter looked at the two beauties vying for his attention, one gentle as water, the other passionate as fire, and a sense of satisfaction welled up within him, but at the same time, a blissful headache also lingered. He chuckled, stretched out his arms, and naturally put his arms around their shoulders. Although it wasn't the first time, the gesture still made both women stiffen slightly. Pavlena's cheeks flushed, while Marika straightened her back, resembling a proud peacock.

"good!"

Peter readily replied, "My judiciary only has me and the recorder, Gable, and we're short-staffed. With two intelligent and capable ladies accompanying us, this otherwise tedious official business will surely become much more interesting."

His openness and intimacy temporarily resolved the surface conflict, but also caused the two women to harbor their own thoughts and harbor undercurrents.