bookpower #357 - Battle of Black Mountain (before the war)
#357 - Battle of Black Mountain (before the war)
In the County of Langsand, a legend was widely circulated:
Looking out over the flat Iber Plain, if the weather was clear, one could see the spire of the Black Pottery Town bell tower atop Black Mountain.
Later, after research and verification by scholars from Eyre, it was confirmed that this saying first appeared eighty years ago, used by a Frankish poet to describe the Golden Plain and the City of Long Songs.
Then, the regional discrimination against the Thousand River Valley gained a few more strokes.
Logically speaking, the relative height of Black Mountain is only about 40 meters, and the terrain of Langsand County slopes from north to south, so this is purely a rumor.
Nidisar had heard this rumor long ago, but unfortunately, he couldn't verify it this morning.
Near Black Mountain, there was a dense forest hunting ground. At night, the vegetation transpired, the air was humid, and the morning temperature plummeted.
When they got up for morning prayers and marched, they actually saw the summer morning mist.
The gauze-like mist enveloped the endless wheat fields, and with just a touch of sunlight, the mist would dissolve into the sunlight like an invisible dream.
In the gray-white mist, a large army was marching along the country dirt road, because there were as many as ten thousand people, they had to split into two roads forward.
It's just a pity that this dreamlike and beautiful scene was mixed with the smell of smoke and corpses, and the screams of women and the cries of children were as faint as the mist.
For professional military personnel such as the Iber Knights on the march, setting up supply stations along the way and ordering the supply stations to purchase supplies before the arrival of the army—was impossible.
The knights' professional qualities did not allow them to use such a difficult operation.
So, they only adopted one method, which was to take food on the spot, and put it into action—rob!
"Open the door!"
Inside the house, the light was dim, and the air was filled with the smell of soil and old wood.
A family of three corvée farmers sat at the table, holding wooden spoons for drinking rice porridge in shock and numbness.
The middle-aged Kushite farmer hesitated, slowly walked to the door, and tremblingly unfastened the latch.
The door was pushed open violently, knocking the middle-aged farmer over, and the night watchmen poured in roughly, their armor gleaming coldly in the dim light.
Without saying a word, they quickly dispersed and began searching the house for valuables.
The farmer's wife hugged her daughter, standing uneasily by the door, daring not to shout or stop them, but only silently shed tears, watching her originally dilapidated but clean home become a mess.
These bandit-like night watchmen rummaged through the furniture roughly, kicking open the sacks, looking for any place that might hide valuables.
"What do you want?" The middle-aged farmer stood up tremblingly. "I don't have anything valuable here."
The soldiers ignored the father's pleas and continued to rummage around, turning over the crude pottery and rattan baskets in a mess.
One of the soldiers found a small wooden box hidden under the fireplace. He yanked the box out and kicked open the lid.
Dull yellow copper coins were dotted with a few silver denarius. The tall, armored sergeant reached into the wooden box and grabbed a handful.
"Just this little?" He sneered. "I know you unclean ones must have hidden more! Hand it over!"
The father shook his head desperately: "No, this is all our savings, we really don't have anything else."
The armored sergeant sneered, just about to speak, but saw a hint of white exposed on the ground wooden board. He reached out and touched it, and sure enough, he lifted a wooden board.
"Wait, that's..."
Ignoring the frantic middle-aged farmer, the sergeant directly shouted: "Someone, lend a hand."
Several guards stepped forward, grabbed the mouth of the bag, and worked together to drag out several large bags of grain.
The armored sergeant used a dagger to directly cut a hole in the bag, and white rice fruit poured out of the hole.
It was as if the middle-aged farmer's blood had flowed out along with this empty hole.
"Still saying you don't have any?" The armored sergeant grabbed a handful of wheat and smashed it on the middle-aged farmer's face.
The expression on the middle-aged farmer's face turned blue and white. He looked back at his daughter and wife who were so hungry that they were skin and bones. He gritted his teeth and rushed up, directly pouncing on the grain bag.
"Are you looking for death?" The guard next to him was frightened by the middle-aged farmer who pounced over, and his sword was unsheathed. After reacting, he was furious.
He sheathed his sword and slapped the middle-aged farmer in the face with a backhand.
Half of the middle-aged farmer's face was swollen, but he still firmly and desperately lay on the grain bag: "Please, at least leave us some rations and seed grain."
"If you don't hand it over, don't blame us!" A guard grabbed the middle-aged farmer's collar, trying to drag him down.
But the farmer was so frightened that his neck shrank, but his body refused to move. His five fingers and arm veins bulged, and he desperately protected the large bags of grain.
"Please, just one bag of grain, leave us some rations..." the farmer begged hoarsely and desperately.
"You asked for it!" The armored sergeant impatiently drew out his armed sword and inserted it into his back.
"No——" The farmer's wife screamed.
The armed sword directly pierced the middle-aged farmer's back, and the farmer's body shook violently. Blood gurgled from the corner of his mouth, instantly staining most of the rice fruit bag red.
"No no no no——"
The farmer's wife with sunken cheeks seemed to be crazy, and her screams echoed continuously in the house.
She threw down her crying little daughter and bumped her head into the armored sergeant's body.
The armored sergeant didn't move at all. Instead, she was shaken back and almost fell to the ground.
"I'll strangle you, I'll strangle you!" Chicken claw-like fingers pressed on the armored sergeant's neck, and the farmer's wife used all her strength to strangle him.
The armored sergeant immediately stuck out his tongue, tilted his head, and rolled his eyes.
The surrounding guards laughed in cooperation.
After having had his fun, the armored sergeant had no intention of getting entangled with this ugly farmer's wife. He raised his hand and stabbed her through the heart with a sword, piercing out from her back.
As the corpse fell, lying on top of each other, splashing a cloud of blood, the bloody smell covered up the old wooden smell.
"What about the other one?" Looking at the farm girl by the wall who was so scared that she lost control of her bladder, the armored sergeant looked around. "Do you want to play with her?"
"Forget it, she stinks."
"She's unclean, she might have a dirty disease."
"Kill her, if you don't kill her, she'll starve to death. We're doing a good deed."
A guard with a stubbly beard drew out his armed sword and walked towards the little girl step by step: "Don't be afraid, it'll be over in a moment..."
"Get out of here!" The guard who was walking towards the little girl was kicked in the waist, and the whole person rolled on the spot.
Standing up and raising his head, he was about to curse, but saw the hem of a silk robe fluttering.
"Good morning, Count Domenico." The night watchman was instantly more docile than a lamb, and the arched fighting stance smoothly turned into taking off his hat and bowing.
The bloody smell in the room made Domenico wrinkle his nose: "What's going on?"
"This family wouldn't hand over grain and wanted to attack us, so we fought back," the armored sergeant pushed away the crowd and said with a fake smile.
"Did this girl also attack you?"
The people present looked at me, and I looked at you, and no one spoke.
"Take the grain and get out." Domenico knew what had happened with his ass, but after all, they were the dogs of the Frankish and Leia families.
It wasn't good for the head family's long-term workers to beat the head family's dogs.
Taking the little girl's hand and walking out of the house, not letting her see the two corpses.
But outside the house, there were corpses everywhere, both of neighbors and uncles.
Domenico covered the little girl's eyes, and the little girl's shoulders twitched up and down. She seemed to be crying, but she couldn't shed a single tear or make a sound.
These were all Domenico's clansmen. He was also a Kushite, so how did it come to this?
Holding the farm girl on his horse, Domenico galloped all the way, as if to vent all the anger and helplessness in his heart.
But he didn't run for long, and the destination was right in front of him.
The forest located on the edge of Black Mountain, at this moment, most of the fog has dissipated.
The mist is like gauze, like a gold-red brocade scarf in the soon-to-rise morning sun.
In the fresh wind, butterflies danced with the fragrance of flowers and the stench of blood.
Putting his water bottle and dry food into the little girl's hand, Domenico pushed her back: "Go, go into the forest, don't come out until the war is over."
"Then when will the war end?" The mute-like girl was pushed two steps towards the forest. She turned around and spoke for the first time, "Tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow?"
Opening his mouth, his words stuck in his throat, and he didn't say anything.
Just as he licked his lips, not knowing what to say, he heard a series of popping sounds like bursting beans.
"Bang bang bang——bang bang!"
"Ah——"
The deep horn sound representing the call followed.
Domenico's face changed drastically, and he sprinted towards the horse.
He didn't dare to delay the task given to him by his grandmother.
But he felt something was wrong after running only two steps. Why did it seem like something was pulling him? Looking down, it was still that girl.
She grabbed the corner of Domenico's clothes, had just been dragged seven or eight meters away, and looked at Domenico's eyes. She still stubbornly asked:
"When will the war end?"
Domenico was silent. He squatted down, looked at the tearful eyes, grabbed mud and smeared it on the little girl's face:
"Go north, keep going north, and when you see a black and red flag, the war will be over."