"My lord." When Victor saw Lance, he immediately stepped forward and greeted him respectfully. The boy's reaction made his mother realize her own lapse in etiquette, and she quickly stood up. What was I just doing? How could I make the lord wait for my son!
The younger boy, only seven or eight, peered out from behind his older brother's leg, looking at Lance with curiosity. Lance looked at the family. This was their home, yet they were so formal and timid. In this world, the chasm of class was truly insurmountable.
"Victor, walk with me." Lance had no intention of disturbing their family life. He rose and left the house. Victor hurried to follow, walking silently behind him.
"Are you keeping up with the training?"
"I am." Victor did not know why the lord was asking these things, but he answered honestly.
After a few more questions about his daily routine, Lance finally revealed the reason he had sought Victor out.
"To test the discipline and problem-solving abilities of the new recruits, I am setting up an assessment. The day after tomorrow, the two instructors will be withdrawn. I, too, will be hidden, observing you all. I need you to help me observe and record any recruits who do not train properly, who do not carry out their patrol duties, or who do not follow the rules. When I return, you will report your findings to me."
Lance stopped walking, turned to face him, and smiled, clapping Victor lightly on the shoulder.
"Victor, you are different from the other recruits. You are the smartest in the entire training camp. I have high hopes for you. Do not disappoint me."
"I guarantee the mission will be completed!" Victor agreed without a moment's hesitation, overjoyed that the lord had entrusted him with such an important task.
"Good." Lance produced a silver coin and pressed it into the boy's hand. "Go and buy some meat for your family."
Victor stared at the silver coin, dumbfounded. He had never even seen a silver coin in his life, let alone held one in his hand.
"Go on back now, or your mother will worry."
Victor finally snapped out of it, clutching the coin tightly, his face beaming with joy. "Thank you, my lord."
"Remember, the assessment is a secret."
"Yes, my lord!"
Lance watched the boy run home, his heart full of happiness. He was only fifteen or sixteen years old. At that age, Lance himself had been carefree in school. But he quickly shook off the thought and continued with his preparations, seeking out a few other outstanding recruits and repeating similar words.
......
"George, you are different from the other recruits. You are the most diligent in the entire training camp. I have high hopes for you. Do not disappoint me."
......
"Andrew, you are different from the other recruits. You have the best results in the entire training camp. I have high hopes for you. Do not disappoint me."
......
Victor was quick-witted and smart, able to find solutions to problems. George was principled and stubborn, not one to cut corners. And Andrew was the strongest of all the new recruits, the one with the best training results, who could command the respect of the others. By leveraging these three, he could keep the situation stable while he was away.
This was the benefit of having trained with the recruits himself. He had a general understanding of all their personalities and could control the situation even from afar by manipulating a few key individuals. He had to ensure that the training camp continued to run smoothly and that order was maintained in the town in his absence. In the end, it all came back to his lack of manpower. Any slightly larger operation stretched his resources thin, forcing him to rely on such patchwork solutions. Once the brigands were dealt with, he had to accelerate the development of new talent.
Lance continued his walk through the night, soon arriving at a brightly lit area. As he drew near, he could hear the clang, clang, clang of metal being struck. Looking up, he saw a long chimney still puffing smoke into the air.
This was the smithy. Lance had anticipated that with the start of the reconstruction, the demand for tools would increase dramatically. The weapons for the new recruits, and their maintenance, was also a problem. So, he had found the blacksmith and negotiated a deal. He had approved a loan for the man, in essence lending him the money to repair his own smithy.
And then came the comical part. Lance had discovered that the deed to the land the smithy was on was, in fact, in his own hands; the blacksmith had sold it to the Magistrate. So, since the man was already taking out a loan, Lance had rented the land back to him, adding that to the debt, and had even included the smithy in the first phase of the reconstruction, giving it priority. In the end, nothing had really changed. The blacksmith was still paying to repair his own shop, but now, Lance had only cleverly moved some things around, and the blacksmith was saddled with a massive debt, for which he was still deeply grateful.
The collapsed building had been roughly repaired. The back wall had not yet been rebuilt, and a simple cloth canopy was stretched over the workspace in front of the forge to keep out the elements. But at least it no longer hindered the work of forging.
"Business looks good."
Lance walked in through the gap in the back wall. The forge was roaring, so there was no need for candles or other lighting. Even at this late hour, the blacksmith and his apprentice were still sweating over the anvil, their movements, illuminated by the firelight, looking strong and powerful. It seemed the earlier setbacks had not extinguished his hope for life.
"My lord! What brings you here?" Seeing Lance, the blacksmith quickly stopped his work and came over to greet him, a smile on his dark, soot-stained face.
"Are my things ready?"
"Just finished them. I was planning to deliver them to you tomorrow, my lord. How could I let you come and get them yourself?" the blacksmith said, gesturing to his apprentice, who was holding a smaller hammer. "Carl, quickly, bring the lord's things."
The young boy glanced at Lance, and at the blacksmith's words, quickly put down his hammer and ran into the house. Lance looked around, habitually making small talk.
"Have you run into any trouble lately?"
"Thanks to you, my lord, business at the smithy is very good. It's just that I'm running low on coal and iron ingots."
"I will find a way to deal with that. Do not worry."
The terms of the loan Lance had given him were very favorable, and with the large number of orders, his pressure was not too great. On the contrary, he was full of motivation, working overtime until now. The one who was suffering was the apprentice, Carl.
Carl was an orphan. His parents had both been killed by the brigands. Lance's revival plan also targeted these orphans, assigning them as apprentices to various skilled artisans. He was one of the conditions for the blacksmith's loan: he had to train a new blacksmith. But blacksmithing was hard work. Few of the orphans had been willing to choose it. Only Carl.
"I hope to forge the weapons for my lord that will kill the brigands and avenge my parents."
At the time, he had wanted to join the army, but he was not old enough. So, he had chosen to become a blacksmith's apprentice instead. His words from that day were still fresh in Lance's mind. It was then that Lance had realized the depth of the hatred between the town's residents and the brigands. To truly win the hearts of these people, he had to exterminate the brigands.
Soon, the young apprentice brought out a box. He opened it to reveal a close-fitting cuirass and a helmet. The cuirass was different from the usual curved breastplates. It was two thick iron plates, one for the front and one for the back, designed to be worn beneath his clothes, protecting his vital organs. He would have liked to wear heavy armor, but he simply lacked the ability. As for the helmet... who goes to battle without a helmet?
"And bring me thirty more crossbow bolts. Put it on my account."
Crossbows had another advantage over firearms: they were quiet. The silence made them ideal for the stealth and assassination their mission required. It was always good to have a few more.