British hegemon

Chapter 26 The Frustrating "March"

Arun Island is neither small nor large. The twenty-odd people there were all native islanders, so they were familiar with all the roads and trails on the island. Although the road was a bit rugged, it was remote and easy to conceal their movements, so they would not easily expose their whereabouts.

However, to be on the safe side, Roger sent the habitual thief, Gray Rat, along with another young scoundrel who was always up to petty theft, ahead of the pirates to scout along the planned route. This was to prevent the pirates from setting up sentries along the way. Roger also sent the two to the infiltration camp he had arranged to prepare for the attack and gave them some basic training in scouting techniques, such as "walking along the shade of the trees by the roadside" and "using bushes for cover."

The ambush camp was located on the back side of a hillside half a mile south of Locklanza village. It was a hidden cave beside a mountain path, where the bald man had once hidden to roast stolen goods, making it a perfect place to conceal his men.

Clang clang clang clang... The bells of Brodick Church behind us rang out; it was already three in the afternoon.

Roger struggled to control the reins, trying to make his horse as obedient as possible.

The horse beneath him was not the tall, magnificent steed that Roger's era often depicted in films and television shows, but rather a native horse with a shoulder height of less than fifty inches. This horse had dark brown hair, a thick tail, zebra-like stripes on its legs, and short, straight limbs.

It might be disappointing, but the climate in Northern Europe is cold at this time, and most of the native horses on the west coast of Scotland are descendants of the Norwegian fjord horses from the Viking era.

These northern horses are not particularly tall or strong, with a typical shoulder height between 45 and 60 inches, which is about 1.2 to 1.5 meters.

Purebred Scottish Highland crossbreds are less than 45 inches tall at the shoulder, with short, thick limbs, a large head and broad forehead, a deep chest, and thick, long hair, bearing some resemblance to the Mongolian horses of Roger's descendants.

It wasn't that there weren't any tall, fine horses. Baron John's black warhorse stood seventy inches tall at the shoulder and cost a full thirty-five pounds to buy from the French. The cost of feeding it for just one year was enough to support five or six commoners.

Roger didn't have time to think about those things. He could theoretically ride a horse, but he was still a bit rusty in practice. It took him quite a while to get the hang of controlling the horse.

Roger was followed by a blue mule led by a dark-skinned farmer. The mule carried several wine sacks and half a bag of hard bread on its back, and Roger's cotton armor was also placed on the mule's back.

Roger originally wanted everyone to put their heavy weapons and armor on the mules to lighten the load and conserve their energy, but the "warriors" knew that their weapons and armor were their only means of survival, and they preferred to carry them rather than leave them behind. Roger figured that they would have to wait until dark when they reached the camp, and there would be time to recover their strength anyway, so he didn't insist.

He turned the horse around, and the docile horse twisted its body somewhat unnaturally. "Everyone, hurry up, let's get to the camp as soon as possible to rest and have dinner."

After saying that, he turned his horse around and continued leading the group forward...

............

After a hurried journey, the "bandit suppression army" arrived at their ambush camp in the mountain valley south of Locklanza Village. By then, the sun had already set behind the mountain peaks. Estimating the time, the journey of less than ten miles took them almost four hours.

The journey was fraught with difficulties, and Roger had seriously overestimated the "bandit suppression army's" enthusiasm for marching.

Not long after leaving the castle, the members of the group began to play tricks. Some pretended to have diarrhea and tried to slip away, while others claimed to have sprained their ankles and could not continue. Two farmers even cried and said that they had elderly parents and young children at home and were worried that no one would take care of them if they died, so they wanted to return the bounty and go home.

At first, Roger encouraged the group with generous post-war bounties and kind words. But when he found the group becoming increasingly unstable, he grabbed a stick and beat the guys who wanted to slip away until they were bleeding and begging for mercy on their knees. Then he threatened them with harsh words like retaliating against their families and never being able to live in peace again. Only then did those guys with ulterior motives remember that the devilish young master Roger was a more terrifying existence than pirates.

To be on the safe side, Roger specially arranged for two men with relatively high loyalty, Baldy and Black Dog, to hold the rear guard with crossbows and homemade spiked clubs, and gave them the authority to kill any deserters immediately.

Through a combination of coercion, enticement, and deception, they finally arrived at the ambush camp before sunset, where the two scouts, Gray Rat and Gray Rat, had been waiting for a long time.

Roger quickly locked the men in the cave and instructed the fat widow to distribute drinks and food to everyone so they could rest and recover their strength, thus stabilizing morale.

Then he selected a few reliable men, including the bald, black-skinned dog, to guard the cave entrance, while he led the gray rats, who had just scouted the area, out of the cave to scout the vicinity of the pirate's lair...

............

Arun Island has a rugged terrain, with the northern part consisting of mountains, with Mount Gote as the main peak, and the southern part being a gentle slope area with alternating hills and plains.

Roger was standing right on the ridgeline. Looking north, he could see the entire valley, and the smoke rising from the central courtyard of Locklanza village was clearly visible. He could also make out a few figures moving around in the courtyard.

Shifting my gaze slightly outward, the abandoned mill outside the village came into view, though I couldn't make out any details about it.

Looking out to sea again, on a promontory less than half a mile north of the mill, a pirate ship with its sails lowered was moored.

Roger lowered his right hand from his brow, adjusted the Viking axe and hunting knife at his waist, and asked Gray Rat beside him, "Have you scouted the mill and the surrounding area? Are the pirates still in the mill? Are there any hidden sentries around?"

Gray Rat was a habitual thief. He always had to scout ahead before entering villages to steal things, so today's job was a piece of cake for him. "Those guys are still in the mill. There are two henchmen on guard on the small hill south of the mill. I didn't see any other sentries."

"How many people are in the mill? What weapons do they have? Do you see the ponytail?" Roger asked another series of questions, this time focusing on details.

The gray mouse began to stammer, clearly this coward had only scouted from afar and had no courage to observe up close.

Roger shook his head, suppressing the urge to kick someone. "Lead the way, let's take a closer look."

The gray mouse let out a sound, trying to refuse.

Roger ignored him and kicked the gray rat in the butt. "Look at you, you coward. I didn't intend to send you to your death. The sun is about to set. We'll sneak along the forest line. They won't find us. Even if they do, we can disappear into the forest. They won't dare to chase us."

Roger had already started walking after he finished speaking, and Gray Mouse paused for a moment, then had no choice but to frown and grit his teeth to follow.

The two followed the treeline northwestward, stepping on sheep droppings, crossing a stream, and bypassing the village of Locklanza, until they reached the mountainside southeast of the abandoned mill and disappeared into a clump of bushes below the treeline.

The mill is only about two hundred steps away, and you can clearly see the figures of people coming in and out.

Roger slowly peeked out from the bushes, trying to count the number of people in the mill and observe their weapons and armor...

............