Chapter 44: The Hafdanian Raids

The Northern lands, sparse in population and vast in area, had noble estates separated by distances, with rare contact between them and no rapid means of communication. During the first days of the Hafdanian invasion, aside from Gwynnis, who had firsthand information, no one in the Earl of Annon River Valley's domain knew of the impending disaster.

Windermere City was the first to suffer. Nearly destroyed, with over half of its citizens killed or injured, Mayor Bonn and a group of loyalists fled into the forest. However, they could do little but hide, surviving on foraged mushrooms and wild vegetables, always wary of enemy discovery. With no one daring to venture out to other noble estates, the nearby territories were quickly overrun.

In just a few days, the Hafdanians, splitting their 8,000-strong force into smaller units, attacked over ten baronies and knight's domains. With no advance warning and the sudden appearance of bloodthirsty warriors, the nobles were caught off guard.

Typically, a baron had only a few dozen guards for castle defense, and knights even fewer. Outnumbered, they stood little chance against the Hafdanians. Upon entering a noble's land, a couple of hundred Hafdanians could besiege a baron's castle, forcing them to stay inside, while the rest ravaged the villages. Once the Hafdanians left, the territories were reduced to ruins, with the populace either killed, captured, or fleeing into forests or being cut down on the roads.

Finally, after several days, a bloodied knight risked his life to spread the news to a neighboring barony, alerting the oblivious nobles. Soon, small cavalry units emerged from castles, passing the information in a chain reaction. Despite extensive messenger exchanges, the nobles struggled to grasp the situation.

Conflicting reports of attacks, with estimates of hundreds to thousands of Hafdanians, added to the confusion. The nobles were unable to determine the

exact number, location, or direction of the enemy. Knowing only that they were under invasion, the nobles remained largely in the dark. The repeated transmission of information, instead of clarifying, only heightened the panic. The thought that the northerners might number in the tens of thousands loomed large, as it seemed their presence was everywhere.

This fear dissuaded anyone from venturing out to gather more information. Even those nobles who managed to muster conscripted troops dared only to hunker down in their castles, praying for the Hafdanians to disperse or for reinforcements from higher-ranking nobles. The letters of aid sent to the Earl of Annon River Valley spoke of an unidentified large force of Hafdanians, estimated to be over thirty thousand strong, causing even the Earl to remain barricaded in his castle.

...

In Targas.

Gwynnis, on the other hand, was living relatively comfortably. With food and drink, dozens of guards, a hundred longbowmen, and five hundred trained conscripts, he felt secure enough to rest easy in his castle. Unless the Hafdanians brought heavy siege equipment and thousands of troops, Gwynnis could withstand a siege well into the next year.

The only problem was the increase in people within the castle walls, leading to a lot of noise and commotion.

The incessant chatter of the villagers was something Gwynnis had grown accustomed to. Some cried over the destruction of their homes, others laughed in relief at having survived the ordeal, and a few seemed to have lost their minds in the chaos.

Among the castle's occupants, Godric was particularly interesting. He had initially intended to recover the bodies of Felicity and Rowenna, only to find them feasting on roasted meat in the great hall, much to his shock. Upon realizing the situation, he noisily insisted on dedicating his life to Gwynnis as a gesture of immense gratitude.

In another turn of events, Bevil ultimately succumbed to his injuries, despite struggling for three days. His death left a vacancy, and Gwynnis appointed Godric as his new cavalryman. It seemed that Godric was skilled in horse riding, adding to the impression that even street performers these days were multi-talented.

Gwynnis was also preoccupied with the fields outside the castle. From his tower, he could see the farmlands where a batch of superior black rye was planted. The Hafdanians had destroyed everything in their path, but curiously, they spared the wheat sprouts in the fields. Though trampled upon, the fields remained largely intact. Gwynnis wondered if the Hafdanians had overlooked the crops or planned to return for harvest.

With the villagers hiding in the castle due to fear of the Hafdanians, essential tasks like weeding the fields had ceased. If this continued, the black rye yield would decrease, and the fields might eventually be abandoned.

As Gwynnis contemplated whether to send the villagers out to tend the fields, he spotted a group of refugees approaching in the distance. Recognizing the mud-covered figure leading them as Mayor Bonn of Windermere, Gwynnis realized they had been hiding in the forest for days. After confirming the Hafdanians had moved on, Bonn and his people dared to leave the woods, seeking shelter in nearby castles.

Bonn hadn't initially planned to seek Gwynnis's help, knowing their strained relations, but he couldn't risk traveling farther. The distance from Windermere to Targas was significant, but a large forest connected them, allowing Bonn and his group to travel through the woods without risking the main roads and possible Hafdanian encounters.

If Gwynnis refused them entry, Bonn would have to travel even further to reach the next baronial estate. Uncertain of the Hafdanians' whereabouts and the status of nearby castles, Bonn decided not to gamble any further.

With gritted teeth, Bonn approached the drawbridge and, with a strained smile, pleaded with Gwynnis from the tower, "Honorable Baron of Targas, we are in dire straits. In the name of Agnes, may we seek refuge within your walls?"