Chapter 207 – 85 Iron Melting Technique
At the break of dawn, a caravan set out from Hongsong Manor. Mules and oxen heaved as they pulled the large carts behind them, moving languidly towards Red Sulfur Harbor on eight four-wheeled wagons.
“Halt, what business do you have? What’s loaded on these carts?” A patrol team stopped the caravan on the road.
“The carts are filled with grain,” the cart driver replied. “We are from Hongsong Manor, delivering the levied supplies to the town.”
Using the excuse of the war, the council of Red Sulfur Harbor demanded that all plantations and villages on the island set aside grain as military provisions, which the islanders referred to as a levy.
A soldier from the patrol team climbed onto a wheel and peered into the wagon, only to see sacks of hemp neatly piled up. Cutting one sack open carelessly, wheat spilled out.
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Seeing that it was indeed grain, the patrol team did not make further difficulties for the caravan. Read complete version only at NoveI-Fire.ɴet
As they were about to leave, the patrol team’s captain jokingly said to the young man next to the cart driver, “You’re tall and sturdy—being a laborer suits you little. How about joining the army? We’re short on hands, and with a daily silver coin, you’d make in a month what you earn in a year.”
The young man cracked a smile but said nothing.
“Eh? I’m talking to you! Are you dumb? Can’t you speak?”
The tooth-gap cart driver hurried to smile and explain, “Brother, you’ve actually hit the nail on the head. This fool is indeed mute; our master took pity on him, that’s why he’s allowed to drive the cart with me.”
The young man also gesticulated wildly with his hands and feet babbling.
Seeing that the other party was mute, the patrol team’s captain no longer insisted, merely muttering regretfully, “So he’s a mute, and here I thought he was good soldier material.” He waved them off, letting the caravan go.
After shaking off the patrol team, Gold, who was driving the cart, laughed and said to Winters, “My lord, that guy has quite an eye, spotting you as soldier material instantly.”
Winters managed a wry smile and waved his hand, “That almost got us trapped into conscription… thanks to you. Never mind that now, continue teaching me the islanders’ dialect…”
Winters led the caravan onwards, the oxen pulling the carts maintaining a slow pace. From early morning until evening, they were finally close to reaching Red Sulfur Harbor. Along the way, they encountered only one patrol team and the occasional passerby.
At the last fork in the road leading to Red Sulfur Harbor, the caravan turned onto a small path that did not lead to the harbor, driving until they reached a secluded spot.
Winters had modified these large carts, adding secret compartments beneath the carriage that were high enough to fit an adult lying flat. From the outside, the carts appeared to be simple transport vehicles, and unless all the sacks of wheat were unloaded, no abnormalities could be detected.
And beneath these compartments hid the men of Hongsong Manor—Herders.
After positioning lookouts, Winters led the remaining Venetian soldiers to start unloading the carts immediately.
The Herder men, who had been suffering in the hot and pitch-black compartment for almost a day, were pale and could hardly stand upright.
Yet they uttered no complaints, just helped each other down from the wagons and silently went to find a place to relieve themselves.
“Have we arrived?” Hestas asked Winters, gasping for air. He had come along too; there was no helping it since among the herders, only he knew the common tongue.
Staying in such a cramped space, with no room to even turn around for a whole day, would be unbearable even for a middle-aged man, let alone Hestas, a man in his sixties.
“Not yet, we have to walk the remaining distance.” Winters handed his water flask to Hestas, using a respectful tone for the first time, “Elder, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” The old Shaman was in poor condition, yet he laughed as if nothing was amiss, “It’s much easier than riding a horse.”
Inside the carts, not only were people hidden, but weapons as well.
After counting the numbers and distributing weapons, the Venetians and Herders cooperatively reloaded the grain back onto the carts.
Bard led some of the men to drive the carts to a concealed location for hiding.
Winters and Andre penetrated the dense forest with another group.
Their target—the two forts that stood at the throat of the Red Sulfur Harbor bay.
In the early hours of the morning.
Along the coast of Red Sulfur Harbor bay.
The bright moonlight scattered over the surface of the water and the coastline, exposing anyone and anything attempting to hide.
A soldier of the Tanilia Federation, Dain, was stationed on the coastal watchpost, his eyelids constantly fighting a battle to stay open.
Above the sea, an iron chain as thick as a man’s arm spanned from east to west, setting up an impassable barrier at the throat of the bay.
Any ships that attempted to force their way through this barrier would shatter their hulls and sink.
This was a man-made natural hazard, a wall upon the sea.
And the weakest spot of this formidable obstruction was not the chain itself, but where it was anchored.
The Tanilia residents had foreseen this and extended the chain from the forts on the shore, where a winch in the fort could raise and lower it, and the other end was a bastion.
Both ends were guarded by the most trusted troops of the Council, and in the event of an alarm, Red Sulfur Harbor could send rapid reinforcement.
To sentry Dain, this was just another commonplace day of the siege.
With the harbor’s entrance firmly secured by two forts and two chains, the Venetians couldn’t get in.
The Venetian warships patrolled outside the bay, preventing ships from Red Sulfur Harbor from getting out.
This was a sea blockade; those outside wished to break in, and those inside wished to break out, yet neither side could fulfil their desires.
The Venetians concentrated their main force on the northern coast, while Red Sulfur Harbor’s council matched them in a standoff there.