Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 393 - 42 Encounter_2
Chapter 393: Chapter 42 Encounter_2
“Lieutenant Winters!” the colonel liked to say, “Go take a look! Take the things over!”
One of the colonel’s goals was to gather intelligence—but Andre thought that was pure nonsense. In his view, the real purpose was for the mutton, sheep’s milk, and sheep cheese.
Shepherds of Paratu primarily tended to the renowned Merino Sheep, known for their soft and smooth wool, which even Winters, Andre, and other Venetians had heard of.
Merino Sheep were considered a controlled commodity in Paratu, and it had been strictly forbidden to let the breed spread since ancient times, with violators subjected to the death penalty.
There was another less famous type of sheep called Jura Sheep, whose wool wasn’t as good as that of the Merinos, but whose meat and milk were far superior to their relatives.
Colonel Jeska was particularly fond of Jura sheep cheese.
Shepherds wandered the wilderness all year round, leading a monotonous life. Thus, they were quite willing to exchange sheep and milk for consumables like tobacco, sugar, and alcohol.
The colonel specifically named Andre to go, which meant he was to exchange for meat and milk.
Having fresh meat and milk every day made everyone in the officer class quite happy. Everyone but Andre, who was annoyed beyond measure. The colonel had singled him out and nobody else could take his place.
[Note: The officer class includes officers, clergy, and professional doctors, although a battalion would not have a professional doctor assigned to it]
…
Upon hearing Lieutenant Winters’ question, Pierre scratched his head and said, “I’m not sure if it was a shepherd, but that person did wave at me.”
“Didn’t make out the attire?”
“Too far to see clearly.”
“Take your tentmates to have a look,” Andre instructed. “Take your musket with you, but don’t make a fool of yourself like you did yesterday.”
Yesterday, their first day after crossing “The Styx”, Andre received a report once again: there was someone on the ridge.
Once across The Styx, it was Herder territory, of this there could be no mistake. Andre gathered his men, full of killing intent, and charged over.
But he had been fooled once more, still by shepherds, and actually by those who had crossed over the floating bridge the other days.
Shepherds followed the flag of Paratu wherever it went. The western bank of The Styx had the rock salt necessary for sheep, and after the army crossed the river, the shepherds followed as well.
According to the shepherds, the nearby Herders had already migrated westward long ago, with the nearest battles now happening a hundred kilometers to the west.
To avoid the Paratu troops, the Herders had moved everything—herds, tents, cattle, and sheep. Now, only Paratu shepherds roamed this land.
After receiving his orders, Pierre saluted and prepared to leave.
“Wait.” Andre stopped him and after a moment’s hesitation said, “I’ll go myself, you go back and report to the colonel.”
Pierre saluted, pulled on the reins, and galloped away.
Winters drew a revolver from his gun bag and threw it to Andre: “Take this with you.”
To avoid exposing spellcasters’ identities, besides using spells in public on rare occasions, Winters had deliberately purchased a double-barreled revolver in Maplestone City.
He felt that even if there were rumors about his ability to shoot without an open flame, it would just be attributed to the revolver.
“No need,” Andre said with a smile and a wave of his hand, “Just a few shepherds, carrying this cumbersome thing is unnecessary.”
…
Andre gathered a tent of cavalrymen and galloped toward the northern slope.
He was reluctant to call these Dusacks cavalry, as in his eyes they were merely horse riders, not qualified to be called proper cavalry.
The leading Centurion was named Asta, a thirty-four-year-old “old” Dusack—compared to the young ones, a person from Blackwater Town, unlucky enough to have been chosen by draw.
The rest, Shego, Kliuch, Margot, Rasov, and Kapu, were all underaged Dusacks.
Andre thought that Asta, due to his age, might be more reliable, so he appointed him as Centurion.
Treadmills work harder, Andre led the six riders for quite a while before reaching the top of the slope.
Standing on the heights of the hill, the men of the baggage train appeared as tiny as beans.
The column looked like a clumsy snake crawling across the plain, but only half could be seen—the other half was completely obscured by undulating terrain.
One often doesn’t feel it when in the middle of it, but only from a high vantage point does one realize the wilderness isn’t flat.
The rolling hills were like the wrinkles on a blanket; cross a ridge or go around a hillock, and the view is lost.
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“There seem to be animals over there, sir,” Asta said, pointing with a riding crop to a gully on the east.
“Let’s go take a look.”
The riders moved along the ridge, and after a few turns, a flock of sheep suddenly appeared at the bottom of the other side of the valley.
The pale brown Merino sheep were spread out in the gully, peacefully grazing.
Two shepherds noticed the cavalry at the top of the slope and waved their hats at them.
“Did you bring the stuff?” Andre asked the Centurion.
“Of course, sir,” Asta patted the saddlebag, “I knew we’d have to come trade.”
Andre traded with the shepherds for meat, cheese, and fresh milk, while the accompanying Dusacks also took the opportunity to swap for some sheep’s milk to drink.
“You go trade,” Andre said nonchalantly, “Same as usual.”
Asta whistled, taking Kliuch with him as they raced down to the bottom of the gully.
Andre yawned, “Damn, it’s all mutton and sheep’s milk, I’m starting to smell like a ram.”
“Then I’ll share your worries,” the junior Dusack, Shego, joked.
“Deal,” Andre laughed heartily, giving Shego a light flick of his riding crop, “I’ll discuss it with the colonel and look for an opportunity to improve things for everyone.”
“Thank you, sir!” Shego exclaimed joyfully.
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