Chapter 68: Field Destruction

In the Targas Territory, the deep sound of horns echoed once again, signaling all the villagers engaged in outdoor activities to retreat back to the castle.

The last group of fishermen, escorted by cavalry, returned to the castle with a large catch of fish. These fish weren't meant for eating but were to be rendered into oil, prepared to counter any siege weapons the Hafdan might deploy.

Considering the intelligence reports suggesting the Hafdan force was not large, Gwinnis wondered if they were just passing through and wouldn't attack the castle. Nevertheless, he prepared for the worst.

With the experience from the first attack, the castle's defenders were more adept this time. They readied themselves at their posts while the villagers orderly retreated into the castle, trying not to be a burden.

As dusk approached, all torches and fire basins were lit ahead of time. Archers and guards ascended the walls, swords unsheathed, arrows nocked. Even the guards in the courtyard, under Gwinnis's command, quickly formed ranks, spears in hand.

The atmosphere grew tense as everyone awaited the Hafdan's reappearance. However, this time, the Hafdan's objective seemed different. They didn't camp near the castle but set up their camp in the ruins of a village at the foot of a hill, far from the castle. They could be seen starting fires and cooking their meals, never straying far from the main road.

Were they being more cautious than last time? Pondering this, Gwinnis sent out cavalry to a few hundred meters from the castle to closely monitor the enemy's movements and report back immediately at any sign of change.

Considering there were no ladders or other siege weapons at the Hafdan camp, Gwinnis felt slightly relieved. He gestured for the kitchen to start preparing meals and dismissed everyone to relax, but not too much. They needed to be ready to assemble quickly if necessary.

If the Hafdan left for the North, that would be ideal. Gwinnis didn't plan to send out any forces for harassment or similar tactics unless absolutely necessary. Disturbing a retreating enemy didn't always yield results and could provoke a deadly response.

With these thoughts, the castle spent a night in uneasy tension.

...

The next day, just before dawn, before the sun rose, Gwinnis was awakened by the voice of a reporting cavalryman. He instantly became alert.

"Sir, the Hafdan are on the move again. They're making breakfast. What are your orders?"

Gwinnis pondered for a moment before waving his hand dismissively. "Go back and continue observing. We won't make any moves until they start an attack."

The cavalrymen left to carry out their orders. Gwinnis then started checking the assembled troops.

After Rosaline's treatment and more than ten days of rest, nearly all the injured, except for those permanently incapacitated, had returned to their posts. Excluding those who had died in battle, the castle courtyard now gathered all the forces Gwinnis could muster.

This included thirty-seven archers, forty-nine guards, and five hundred seventeen conscripts, totaling six hundred three people. Notably, of the original five hundred conscripts, eighty-three had died, but Gwinnis had managed to replenish their ranks.

In Targas Territory, the ominous sound of horns signaled the retreat of all villagers back to the castle. The last group of fishermen, protected by cavalry, brought a significant catch of fish, not for consumption, but to be converted into oil as a defense against any siege weapons the Hafdan might use.

With only a small number of Hafdan reported, Gwinnis wondered if they might just be passing through, avoiding an attack on the castle. Yet, he prepared for the worst-case scenario.

The castle's defenders, now experienced, efficiently took their positions. Villagers orderly retreated into the castle. As nightfall approached, all torches and fires were lit. Archers and guards readied themselves on the walls, and the courtyard guards swiftly formed ranks, spears at hand.

The atmosphere was thick with anticipation for the Hafdan's return. But this time, their target seemed different. They set up camp not near the castle but in the ruins of a distant village, visible only as distant cooking fires. They stayed close to the main road, indicating increased caution.

Confused, Gwinnis sent out cavalry to discreetly monitor the enemy. Seeing no siege weapons in the Hafdan camp, he felt a bit more at ease and ordered meals to be prepared. Allowing everyone some relaxation, he hoped the Hafdan would leave for the north.

However, the tranquility was short-lived. After the troops ate, a report came in. Jervis, leading the cavalry, returned with a grave expression, almost seething with anger.

"The Hafdan are destroying our wheat fields!" he reported. "They're trampling and throwing torches into the fields intentionally!"

Gwinnis took a deep breath, his worst fears confirmed. He knew that, in their place, he would do the same. The Romans once sowed salt in Carthaginian fields, so Hafdan destroying wheat was expected. But this normal act was unacceptable when it was his fields being destroyed. The loss of these fields would not only undo all his efforts since assuming power but also plunge the local population into severe hardship for the coming year. The loss of crops meant no food for the villagers and severe tax revenue impacts for Gwinnis. He would have to provide food and seeds to help them survive.

He realized that if the Hafdan did this across the region, the entire territory of Count Annon would be devastated for years. Even if the Count's direct lands were less affected, the ripple effects would be catastrophic.

Now, the mature rye fields must be protected at all costs.

Gwinnis's expression darkened as everyone awaited his decision. Fear, worry, and despair hung heavily in the air. Women began to cry, their suppressed sobs echoing in the silent courtyard. To them, the wheat fields were everything, their hope for an entire year. Now, on the verge of harvest, their hard work was being destroyed by the Hafdan. The men, too, were tearful, feeling unjustly punished for their humble and hardworking lives. They couldn't understand why, despite their meekness and continuous efforts to please others, their harvest was being taken away. They questioned what they had done to deserve such a cruel fate from the goddess Angnes.