Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 390: Chapter 41 Crossing the River_2

The lieutenant colonel first looked at Winters, shaking his head. Then he looked at Bard and Andre, as if deciding between the two cavalry officers.

Andre immediately avoided eye contact, and seeing this, Bard sighed and said, “I’ll do it.”

“Good, then it’s you,” the lieutenant colonel nodded.

The orderly pulled back the tent flap and brought dish after dish in front of the officers.

Winters had been so hungry he was numb, but the smell of food made his stomach churn again.

The four soldiers didn’t have any sort of ritual for saying grace before eating: as soon as the food was on the table, they could begin.

But Winters barely tasted a spoonful of the mushy substance on his plate when he almost threw up the soup he had ingested the day before.

It was disgusting: sour and stinky, as if washing rags had been soaked in it.

If something looked like swill, smelled like swill, and tasted even more like swill, then it must be swill, right?

Winters looked at Andre in shock, and Andre returned the look with equal shock.

In contrast, Jeska and Bard seemed unfazed, as if everyone wasn’t eating the same thing.

“Sir, do you usually eat this stuff?” Andre asked cautiously.

The lieutenant colonel, busy breaking apart a piece of dehydrated, hard bread, casually responded, “I didn’t invite you to a feast; I’m trying to correct a mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“The mistake of getting too close to the soldiers!” the lieutenant colonel said coldly. “I understand the sentiment of this kind of local troop, but you are in the military now. Keep your distance from the soldiers, otherwise it will affect your judgment.”

Although the lieutenant colonel didn’t spell it out, Winters knew what he meant, and it irritated him a little.@@novelbin@@

Andre chuckled and asked Bard, “Can you even stomach this?”

Bard glanced at Andre and said, “If you were born into a tenant farmer’s family, you could stomach it too.”

“Enough with the complaining,” Colonel Jeska said with displeasure. “It’s good enough to have food in the barracks. The soldiers are not chefs; if they can cook something edible, that’s good enough. What does taste matter? You’ve never been to war, otherwise you’d be able to eat pig slop if put on a plate.”

The three veterans exchanged glances silently, with no intention of correcting the lieutenant colonel.

“It’s not about whether I’ve been to war or not,” Andre said slowly, stirring the mush on his plate with a spoon. “It’s just that by comparison, the food here is indeed hard to swallow.”

“Compared to whom?” Colonel Jeska raised an eyebrow.

“With… Monti’s [Montaigne’s nickname] orderlies.”

Colonel Jeska snorted derisively, clearly disbelieving.

The next day, the lieutenant colonel believed.

On the third day, the lieutenant colonel did something that was “just like him.”

The blacksmith Berlion was transferred to the battalion headquarters to work full-time as a cook.

…

Although there is a legal “buffer zone” between the territories of the Herders and the Paratu People, the geographical definition of this buffer zone keeps changing.

The area south of the Ashen Stream River in the buffer zone agreed upon by Ned Smith and the three major Herder tribes is today’s Newly Reclaimed Lands Province.

[Note: Ashen Stream River is how the Torrent River is referred to within Paratu territory]

Generally speaking, the Paratu People steadily encroach upon the territory while the Herders gradually retreat, leaving an undeveloped strip about a hundred kilometers wide between them.

Though it’s called a no-man’s land, it’s not entirely devoid of human activity.

The most common sight is Shepherds.

The original agreement was “no farming by the Paratu People and no herding by the Herders,” but it didn’t stipulate that the Paratu People couldn’t herd sheep in this area.

This wasn’t just playing with words, as nomadic herding in the gaps between powers is a traditional skill of the Paratu People.

As early as the year 273 of the Empire, Paratu saw the establishment of a national wool guild—the Mesta Honor Association.

Even most of the Paratu herding terminology originates from the Herder language.

Agriculture didn’t bring gold or silver, so before the Republican era, the taxes from Mesta were major financial revenues for the Duke of Palatu.

After Richard IV inherited the dukedom of Palatu, he would also get an income of over 10,000 pounds of silver from Mesta every year. [Note: equivalent to about 98,000 Ducat Gold Coins]

The poor Paratu Shepherds, driving their sheep across national and religious boundaries, not only had to migrate with the seasons within the power divides but also had to guard against the predations of the Herders.

Yet it was these Shepherds at the bottom tier who accumulated wealth for the nobility of Paratu, enabling them to build castles, hire armies, and engage in long wars against the Herder tribes with resilience.

Had it not been for several critical stands by Palatu against large-scale eastern invasions by the Herders at their pinnacle, Forthland and Vineta would have fallen under the iron hooves long ago.

The Paratu Shepherds left behind lonely castles on the old border lines and countless stories and legends where they were the main characters.

For this reason, even though the vast majority of Paratu People make a living from farming, Andre liked to use the derogatory term “day shepherd,” and we have reason to believe that this disrespectful description probably did happen.

…

Shepherding in the buffer zone is an industry officially endorsed by the government and was even once a pillar industry of Paratu.

However, there are also trades that don’t receive Paratu government endorsement.

For example, stealthily breaking new ground, where some farmers who can’t afford land secretly go to the buffer zone to clear it for cultivation.

The Paratu government doesn’t actively bring them back, nor does it offer any protection to these stealthy cultivators or recognize their property rights.

Many bandits and robbers also hide on the other side of the Border River to escape the law.

Many stealthy cultivators fall victim to these criminals, but the authorities rarely send law enforcement across the Border River. Such cases are often handled by Bounty Hunters.

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