Caravan Recruitment and a Cold Bargain

“你叫什么名字?”

“莱夫。”

“以前干什么的?”

“我曾是商队护卫， but the caravan went bankrupt and couldn’t pay me, so I left.”

“你会什么武器？”

“长矛！” the scruffy mercenary replied with unwavering conviction. He wore a dark cloth hood, a tattered raw leather vest, and carried a spear resting on his shoulder. The mottled rust on its spearhead bore testament to his status as a down-on-his-luck veteran.

Securing an old mercenary skilled with a spear was a promising start to the day’s recruitment.

“行吧，你入伙了。” Noren gestured towards a nearby table where two blond youths were already seated.

The old mercenary, Leif, gave a slight bow and moved to wait by the table with the blond youths.

****

“下一个。” Noren motioned for the person behind the mercenary to step forward.

A brawny man, five feet eight inches tall, approached tentatively. Devoid of any armor, he wore only a pale yellow, short-sleeved linen shirt and tattered trousers that revealed his curly-haired calves. His arms, however, were undeniably powerful, his biceps and triceps straining the shirt cuffs taut, while his robust pectorals threatened to burst through the fabric of his chest.

“亨利，我的女士，我的名字是亨利。” The brown-haired man spoke with noticeable apprehension.

He had brown hair, swarthy skin, and the lines of hard labor etched upon his face. From Noren’s observation, he appeared to be under thirty, likely a laborer unable to find work.

Noren scrutinized him from head to toe, then teased, “你是铁匠工人吗？ Your arms are thicker than most people’s thighs.”

“呃……” Henry glanced down at his ragged attire. His clothes were torn, and a patched shoe had a hole where his big toe poked through, hardly the image of a well-fed blacksmith.

He offered a self-deprecating smile. “How could a country bumpkin like me work as a blacksmith in a workshop? I’m a quarry laborer. The foreman kicked me out, claiming I wasn’t working hard enough, but I assure you, I was always the most diligent worker at the quarry!”

Noren remained silent for a few seconds before inquiring, “你会打架吗？”

Like a student asked about their favorite subject, Henry excitedly slapped the bulging muscles on his arms. “I can fight, alright! No one in my village could ever beat me. All I had to do was raise my fist, and the ruffians would flee!”

Yet, as he spoke, his enthusiasm waned, and a sad memory seemed to surface. “But ever since I beat the village chief’s son, my whole family was driven out of the village. We hid in the mountains, eating wild fruit and catching rabbits. One night, though, my sister was snatched by a wolf. I went to look for her, but I got separated from my family and ended up coming to Hradec to work as a laborer…”

Noren sympathized with his plight. Henry, being alone and of good standing, seemed an excellent candidate for a guard. Still, she decided to press him further. “Tell me, have you ever killed anyone? I’m hiring caravan guards, and for that, I need formidable individuals who have taken a life. I don’t care who you killed or why.”

Henry grew flustered, scratching the back of his neck in agitation. “尊敬的小姐，I—I can fight, and I’ve fought many ruffians and villains, but I’ve never killed anyone! Does slaughtering pigs count? Yes! Yes! I also strangled a wild wolf. Does killing a wild wolf count?”

She feigned deep thought, her brow furrowing slightly as if making an arduous decision. “That… is barely acceptable. Very well! You’re in too!”

Upon hearing he was accepted, Henry let out a simple, “Ho-ho,” chuckle. He clumsily mimicked the mercenary’s earlier bow and walked over to the wooden table.

****

“好了，再下一个！”

****

After Henry, there were virtually no more candidates who could be considered decent or courageous; they were all a motley assortment of undesirables.

Every walk of life was represented: mercenaries, pickpockets, ruffians, dung collectors, farmers, hunters, and even a fugitive from a neighboring country. None of them met her standards.

They were either emaciated and frail or possessed a predatory gaze. The only well-equipped, formidable fellow who caught her eye turned out to be a fugitive from Frankfurt, Germany, which explained his oddly accented Slavic.

‘Recruiting in a tavern is truly like sifting for gold in shit.’ Noren dismissed the remaining applicants for caravan guards, informing them that recruitment was over and they should return whence they came. She intended to grab a quick meal before taking her newly acquired caravan members back to the village.

Though displeased, the hopefuls, seeking profit, could only curse their bad luck under their breath and depart sullenly after the tavern owner brandished his two-handed long axe.

****

“五碗肉汤、五块白面包。” Noren gathered the four men at a single table and summoned the tavern owner.

No sooner had the tavern owner approached than the young woman seized him firmly by the collar. He managed a strained, unpleasant smile. “小姐，您—您这是……”

She widened her eyes fully, her pupils contracting as she fixed her gaze upon him. “Don’t think I’m ignorant of anything. It seems you’ve acquired quite a bit of ‘duck meat’ from Opava, haven’t you? Since the mayor’s uncle hasn’t convicted you, I won’t pursue it, but if I ever find ‘duck meat’ in your stew again…”

Lestislav felt a jolt in his heart, his brow slick with cold sweat, as those green eyes bore into him. “您放心，那些来自奥帕瓦的腌肉早扔了。”

Hearing this, the young woman released his collar, giving him a gentle push.

The tall, robust Lestislav stumbled backward from the force applied to his shoulder, eventually landing hard on his backside. He brushed himself off and rose, daring not to show a hint of resentment or complaint, before turning and retreating into the kitchen.

****

Inside the kitchen,

The tavern owner tossed small chunks of pickled meat into a woven wicker basket and carried it down to the cellar. When he emerged again, the pickled meat in the basket had transformed from small chunks into long, solid strips.

Setting down the basket, he instructed the plump cook, “别用‘鸭肉’了，肉汤先用腌猪肉煮着。”

He gazed at the strips of prime pork, a pang of anguish twisting in his chest. He muttered under his breath, barely audible, ‘That damned b*tch! Sithis doesn’t even bother with you, so why do you meddle? If I were clad in full plate armor, I’d…’

Suddenly, a towering figure materialized in his mind, merging with Noren’s image. His curses abruptly ceased, followed by a sheepish chuckle. ‘Forget it. I’m magnanimous. I won’t argue with a woman.’

“计较什么？”

A woman’s voice unexpectedly cut through the air, making the tavern owner jump in alarm.

He spun around to see the tavern’s alluring waitress, and immediately erupted in a torrent of curses. “贱人，端你的酒去！”

The alluring waitress rolled her eyes suggestively, placed the meat stew onto a tray, and swayed her hips as she walked away.

****

In the tavern hall,

Noren surveyed the four newly assembled members of her caravan. Two were Norse youths, one a Slav from the countryside, and the scruffy mercenary claimed to be half-Meissen.

The two Norse youths, Hafdan and Wiz, were fifteen years old, five feet eight inches tall, and though lean and muscular, they had yet to fully broaden.

They had not joined the Hradec city guard, having previously hunted rabbits and birds in the forest to supplement their household income. Given this opportunity to venture out, they naturally couldn’t let it pass. What was the point of staying in Hradec, idling their lives away? Would it not be a waste of their noble Norse blood to hone their martial skills only to never engage in combat?

“唔……哈夫丹、威兹，你们为什么不加入赫拉德茨卫队，在城市周边抓些强盗、小偷不也挺好的吗？” the young woman inquired curiously.

The brothers exchanged glances. Hafdan, the elder, spoke, “We crave adventure and don’t wish to stay in the city year-round. If not for our mother and sister, we might have embarked on an adventure long ago. So, we chose a compromise—joining a caravan.”

“哼~” She propped her head on her hand, resting her elbow on the wooden table. “为什么不加入西提的商队？”

Hafdan shook his head. “我们之前加入过他的商队，但他的商队太安全了，面对十几人的拦路强盗就算站着原地不动都没事，甚至还能一边听强盗们惨叫，一边悠闲地喝酒、吃面包。 It was utterly boring~”

Noren turned to the burly Henry and the scruffy mercenary. “你们呢？又是为什么入伙？”

Henry stole a glance at the young woman, then quickly lowered his head again. “I heard guards earn good wages, and I… ever since you, my lady, came to our quarry last year to collect stone, I—I—I thought then that if one day I could serve you…”

She tapped the table, cutting Henry off. “好了，我知道了，佣兵你呢？”

The scruffy mercenary calmly took a sip of meat stew. “No particular reason. Just looking for an opportunity to earn money. You happen to pay well and provide food and drink. If you need me, I’ll serve you faithfully, as long as you don’t fall behind on my wages.”

After listening to the four men, Noren made a single demand. “I’m merely forming a caravan, a small wine-selling caravan. But even so, it will still require you to risk your lives. One wage for one life. Understand?”

All four solemnly replied, “是！”

She offered a faint smile. “快吃吧，吃完亨利、莱夫就在酒馆洗个热水澡，我出钱，哈夫丹你俩我看着挺干净的，你俩就先回家和家人告别，我们今天就走。”

“去哪（×4）？”

“俄斯特拉发。”