Chapter 12: The Unquiet Journey

Like a coachman with ten years of driving experience, Dean held the reins steadily and put himself in a very comfortable position so he would not get too tired; at this moment, Dean followed the caravan formed by merchants, just like those traveling merchants, showing no flaws at all, especially after he spoke with an authentic accent from the Three Southern Counties, several merchants with the same accent came close to him.

These merchants, like Dean, had no guards and only brought a small amount of cargo—it was not that they could only carry so much, or that they could not afford to hire guards; at least, in Dean’s observation, he could be sure that among the merchants who had spoken with him, a few were very wealthy.

And why did they do this?

Apart from the items they carried being extremely precious, the only other possibility was opening up a trade route.

And about ten minutes later, Dean leaned more towards the latter—after all, if they really carried extremely precious items, even if they looked like they were alone on the surface, they should have arranged some hidden arrangements; at least, one or two skilled fighters would be inevitable; and obviously, there were no such skilled people around him.

“Ike, what cargo do you have?”

A merchant who was also driving a single-horse carriage and driving alongside Dean asked like this—Ike was the fake name Dean casually gave when the previous few people introduced themselves.

“Some herbs that are not worth much, but enough to break even!”

Dean answered in the tone of a merchant.

In fact, because merchants had a competitive relationship, their goods were kept secret from each other; therefore, vague replies were the mainstream way of talking among them.

“Is that so?”

The merchant who asked clearly did not believe Dean’s answer, but he did not press further, instead chatting with several other merchants who spoke the Southern accent; and later, under Dean’s deliberate avoidance, he gradually drifted out of this circle and became a true marginal character.

And this was exactly what Dean needed—if he attracted too much attention, suddenly disappearing would cause unnecessary trouble.

Under Dean’s deliberate maintenance, time continued until noon; facing the scorching sun at noon, most merchants chose to rest, especially the few merchant caravans with guards, they even parked their carriages by the road, and such behavior led more merchants to follow suit.

Undoubtedly, following these merchant caravans with guards made these traveling merchants feel safer.

However, some merchants were still hurrying along the road, hoping to reach the next town before it got completely dark—the Horseshoe Town, which was also governed by the Marquis of York’s Second Son.

This Marquis of York’s Second Son governed two fiefs in total, where Tijiao City counted as one fief, and the four towns including Horn Town, Horseshoe Town, Shield Town, and Visor Town counted as another fief—of course, judging by the names of these towns and cities, it was enough to show that the Marquis of York and the York Family had a love for military life.

And the straight-line distance between Horn Town and Horseshoe Town was less than a hundred kilometers; for merchants with horses, unless they carried heavy goods, they could arrive in one day; and another reason for them to hurry was the safe general environment in Yorkshire.

Regarding the suppression of bandits, the Marquis of York showed considerable enthusiasm, and this was good news for most merchants who could not afford the price of guards.

Therefore, these traveling merchants dared to break away and choose to travel quickly alone.

Otherwise, even with double the profit, they would choose to move together—there were indeed many bold merchants, but more were cowardly.

Dean’s carriage naturally did not stop; he joined those who were hurrying along the road and quickly broke away—his target was not Horseshoe Town, nor even any of the cities or four towns under the jurisdiction of the Marquis of York’s Second Son; in order to reach the Ferrchelen Knight Order’s headquarters within a month, even with horses, he had to speed up, moreover, when he arrived at the Ferrchelen Knight Order, he still had to have enough preparation time.

And this undoubtedly determined Dean’s journey of traveling day and night, and he had to choose the best route.

Therefore, in the afternoon, Dean deviated from the original route, left the territory of the Marquis of York’s Second Son, and entered the Territory of another Baron; in that town, Dean only supplemented his dry food and water, and the horse’s fodder, and then departed again.

He only stopped the carriage when it was completely dark; he untied the horse from the carriage frame, put on fodder, and almost instantly, the horse’s head came over—high-quality fodder mixed with dried radish and mung bean cakes was generally fed to Warhorses; for the draft horses pulling the cart, it was obviously a rare delicacy.

Dean gently patted the horse’s head several times, Dean took out dry food and water—the dry food was some crushed grains steamed into dry cakes with water, mixed with some salt, so it was not tasteless, but it certainly could not be called delicious, especially with that dry and hard texture, which made his teeth ache almost.

It seemed even worse than the horse’s fodder.

However, Dean did not care about it at all; he had eaten even worse food than this, moreover, if he wanted the horses to run fast, he naturally needed good fodder; he did not want to waste time and money on the road to change horses again—although he was currently quite wealthy, Dean, who knew what he wanted to do, did not think he had the capital to squander; even if he processed all the things he brought, it would only be enough for the earliest expenses.

It was precisely because of this that Dean thought of cooperating with Longlang to develop that smuggling channel—of course, in that letter, Dean did not say much, only vaguely put forward some words that were enough for Longlang to understand, and a specific time.

Two months!

Apart from the time on the road, Dean set a deadline for himself to completely take over the Ferrchelen Knight Order within one month—this was indeed a bit rushed, but for Dean, who wanted to participate in a war within less than a year, it was actually a bit luxurious; especially when the current Dean had nothing.

Therefore, Dean added the prefix “completely” before the deadline.

“Now it is October 1501, according to my memory, the first Blood Moon War broke out in September 1502… City deployed about forty thousand infantry, ten thousand light cavalry, five thousand heavy cavalry, and about twenty thousand Auxiliary Soldiers, totaling nearly eighty thousand troops, to launch a surprise attack on York City, the center of Yorkshire… And the Ferrchelen Knight Order was only a local Knight Order, with a total number of less than fifty people, including Auxiliary Soldiers…”

Dean, sitting on the ground leaning against the carriage shaft, silently recalled everything in his memory; the strong numerical contrast made Dean frown involuntarily, causing his thinking to almost stagnate.

However, soon, the sound of hooves coming from the distance interrupted Dean’s thinking.