Soldiers at Huntington

 "Gentlemen! Do you have any more suggestions? Anything to drive out those savage Englishmen!"

 Queen Mary nervously asked the ministers seated.

 "I think with Edinburgh's fortified layers, it should be able to hold for six months, and we can use that time to ask our allies, the French, to come and help us defend against the English!"

 Looking at the crowd that looked at each other, Earl Aaron could only offer an opinion himself.

 "No way! My Lord Count, although the French are our allies, she is also a fierce tiger!"

 "Introducing a tiger into the house may intimidate a hungry wolf that breaks in over coming in, but it's easy to get him in, harder to get him out!"

 Bishop Beaton, who had been in a state of silence, suddenly spoke out, still in opposition, and this could not help but cause the others to think!

 "My Mr. Bishop, I think that's a good idea! I wonder what the Earl of Argyle and the Earl of Lennox think!"

 "This ..." The Earl of Argyle did not expect the fire to be drawn on himself, and for a moment was a little at a loss for words.

 "Alas! In the end, I'm young! I don't have much experience."

 At that moment, the hearts of the people present sighed in unison.

 He looked at Queen Mary, then at Count Arlen, and finally his eyes settled on Count Arlen.

 "At the moment, it's still Earl Arlen who has more experience in governing, and he's still justified in doing so, so let's agree!"

 Looking at Earl Arlen's weathered face, Earl Argyle was still willing to believe him inside.

 "I also agree with Lord Earl Arlen's proposal, it's a great idea!"

 With the consent of the Earl of Argyle, the Earl of Lennox went along with it, leaving Bishop Beaton alone in his opposition.

 "Since most people agree, let's get His Excellency the Ambassador of France to come here!"

 "I wonder if His Grace the Bishop has any objections?" Earl Arlen hammered out his conclusion, then turned his head and inquired in a gentle tone of voice to Bishop Beaton, who had resumed his state of silence.

 Upon hearing the words of the Lord Earl, Bishop Beaton opened his eyelids, his face unsaddened and his somewhat cloudy eyes filled with a helpless look.

 Apparently always pro-England, he was ruled out by the others.

 "Nothing!" The bishop's voice was.

 "Then we'll send for the French ambassador, Mr. Marchese d'Or. Monsieur de Voyseur!"

 At this time, the English army, which had been refurbishing for the night, was about to begin its advance again.

 No sooner had the troops started than Duke Edward called for the Earl of Wellington to be summoned.

 "My dear Mr. Earl of Wellington, how much cavalry have you now?"

 "My Lord Duke, right now I still have nine hundred and twenty heavy cavalry capable of normal combat, and over fifteen hundred light cavalry!"

 "Good! Mr. Count, I'll give you an important task!"

 "I want you to lead your light cavalry in a direct run on the city of Huntington, fifty miles away!"

 Lord Duke Edward had a thick tone of voice, and his face showed all the regard he had for him.

 "But, Your Excellency the Duke, we are all cavalry!"

 "It is because you are cavalry that you are required to take the city of Huntingdon!" Duke Edward addressed him directly, his tone full of unquestioning doubt.

 "The Scots are now like a wolf pack that has lost its head; even a flock of sheep can bully them."

 "Their regent, the Earl of Arran, is as a head wolf that has lost his nerve, and now Hantington is a male wolf without a leader; just frighten him, and he'll be at your mercy!"

 "So, this time it's a delivery of credit to you, my Monsieur le Comte!"

 "All right! My horse hasn't slipped up yet! I'm on it." The Earl of Wellington couldn't help but get excited when he heard Edward do this.

 Duke Edward has just finished eating the breakfast made by the cook brought from home, for that black bread in the barracks he is not accustomed to eat, for the aristocrats to come is to be different from which commoners.

 Yawning softly, the Lord Duke lifted the curtain of his tent to see a puff of dust rushing into the distance, and the whole barracks suddenly looked a mess.

 "Hey! Guy! What's going on here!" Duke Edward asked curiously, his tone matter-of-fact, the guard next to him, a young lad with brown hair color.

 As in China, those who can serve as guards around high-ranking generals are not ordinary people, and ordinary people don't have that qualification.

 In the case of Duke Edward, those who could be placed beside him were basically the uninherited heirs of those nobles.

 But now with the difficult layers of the English nobility, most of them are now from knightly families, and some from local great gentlemen or great merchant backgrounds.

 These people are theoretically preparing the nobility, and the future ruling class of England, and also his guards, Duke Edward's tone has no reason not to be gentle.

 "Lord Duke! It's Lord Earl Wellington leading the cavalry out of the barracks!"

 The guard bowed his head in explanation, and the whole person appeared courteous and full of aristocratic demeanor.

 Duke Edward loved this aristocratic demeanor, a reflection of their superiority.

 The Earl of Wellington led the cavalry to Huntingdon at a gallop.

 Huntingdon is to Scotland what the city of York is to England; it was the great base of Scottish resistance to the English invasion, and so walls were built.

 So under normal circumstances, using cavalry to attack a city is a silly thing to do.

 The Earl of Wellington labored for thirty miles in succession, and at length came under the city of Huntingdon.

 The walls of Huntingdon were thirty feet high, and there was a moat in front of the gates, which the Lord Earl had observed to be twenty feet wide, which was not uncommonly difficult for a medieval army.

 The Lord Earl, mounted on his horse, observed the scene on the walls of Huntingdon from a distance.

 Only to see that the original army that should have been in strict formation was now running around in panic, and the archers who were the main force defending the city were now only a few.

 And more critically, the Earl could only see a hundred or so heads swarming on a section of the wall at the front battlefield.

 "Hahaha! What a blessing from God! It looks like the Scottish army has been beaten to death in Pink's Gap! I'll take the credit for this one!"

 Earl Wellington's heart thought silently, but the corners of his mouth curled up unintentionally, and his right hand couldn't stop stroking his two black shiny beards, his eyes narrowed.

 "Find someone who knows Scots and shout for them to surrender!"

 "Aye! Lord Earl!" The messenger on the side bowed his head and responded.

 Soon a lewd-looking fellow came probing into sight of the Scotsman, who seemed to have measured the distance, and stopped about three hundred paces from the walls.

 "Brothers on the city walls! Your Lord Regent has been captured by us, surrender yourselves!"

 "We are here because your Majesty is marrying our great Majesty Edward, and we are family from now on!"

 "Surrender quickly! Or else our 30,000 strong army will step on your Hantington!"