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Though wild boars appear round and plump, once their thick hides are stripped away, one discovers that they are mostly coarse-fibered red meat with very little fat, which is mostly distributed around the entrails. Beneath their tough, resilient hides are well-developed muscles from constant running. Additionally, uncastrated wild boars possess an extremely strong, rank, gamey odor. The hunters who subsisted on this daily were jubilant, yet Tesolus keenly perceived this peculiar, rank stench.
Had Tesolus never eaten pork from modern farms, he might have thought this was simply the taste of pork, especially given these people's crude cooking methods. When the mountain dwellers left, they discarded most of their belongings, but they could not bear to abandon those three great iron cauldrons.
The cauldrons were the most precious property in the village. Originally, they had been exchanged for one hundred of the finest wolf pelts and twelve bear hides. Everyone ate together from this single cauldron. In the eyes of the mountain dwellers, the cauldron was sacred: as long as there was one, a place could sustain life.
Now, the coarse wild boar meat was cut into small pieces with knives and tossed directly into cauldrons of water to stew. A thick layer of frothy scum soon floated on top of the soup. Great handfuls of grain were poured in and sprinkled with coarse yellow salt. When the broth reached a boil, it was served in bowls to each person.
Tesolus furrowed his brows repeatedly while watching this truly crude method. While the aroma emanating from the cauldrons was somewhat appetizing, it still carried an intense, rank, gamey odor that made one frown especially someone who often cooked and could hardly bear to watch such a wasteful practice.
The other cavalrymen were preparing much the same fare. They had all undergone years of training, but surely no part of that training had taught them to cook. Apart from eating dried rations, most could do little more than throw everything into a cauldron and boil it into a mush. The only relatively fortunate thing was that they now had cauldrons and no longer needed to sacrifice their helmets.
Everyone ate with great satisfaction, except for Tesolus. Although he wouldn't waste this food, its coarse texture and flavor made him uncomfortable. Seeing this, Colin could not help but think inwardly that he was indeed a noble lord, as he was dissatisfied even with such delicious food available. She truly dared not imagine what delicacies and rare treasures Tesolus normally ate.
After the meal, they did their best to load the remaining prey into the wagons. However, the mountain dwellers’ earlier hail of arrows had nearly exterminated an entire herd. Because they had encountered such a rare and fortunate event, they did not give it much thought at the time.
Now, the pile of wild boar meat was nearly as tall as a mountain, and the wagons could not possibly contain it all. Most of it would have to be carried on their backs, with each person bearing a heap.
According to their normal itinerary, they should have entered a town of the Empire by now. However, one accident followed another: the road leading to the town had already been engulfed by a mudslide at some point. Moreover, the massive accumulation of earth and stone had piled up like a mountain peak, making it impossible to cross.
There was another route, but taking it would mean they could not reach the Imperial town until the day after tomorrow. None of them wanted to delay, but there was no alternative. After all, they couldn't abandon their warhorses and continue on foot. While that would allow them to pass, it would cost them their speed a loss-outweighs-gain course of action.
Therefore, they could only bypass the mountain pass and advance along another road. Their progress slowed considerably, and they were forced to make camp, unable to enjoy the services a city could provide.
Beneath the dim firelight, the mountain dwellers appeared to be in high spirits. After all, today they had actually eaten their fill twice. Such good fortune might not have occurred even once in the past year, so naturally, there was no reason for them to be dejected. Once they had eaten and drunk their fill, they found a place to sleep.
They still maintained their mountain-dweller vigilance, posting a few hunters as sentries around the perimeter, but most behaved with extreme laziness. This solidified Tesolus’s resolve to properly train these fellows when time permitted.
These mountain dwellers were all excellent hunters, capable of striking a target a hundred paces away with their longbows. However, they had grown accustomed to the life of hunters and bandits.
They could not comprehend the concepts of "discipline" or "formation." If they were dragged onto a battlefield, they would scatter into a loose skirmish line. If they encountered a well-trained force, they would be routed. Of course, they could certainly run very fast, relying on their strong and powerful legs, and perhaps they might even manage to escape with their lives.
But for their employers, it would be tantamount to disaster. These fellows ran fast enough to easily cause their own soldiers to flee along with them. Therefore, mountain dwellers hired by the Imperial Army were always positioned at the front of the formation.
This way, even if they wanted to flee, they had nowhere to run. Instead, their fierce courage was aroused, and they often achieved commendable results.
Yet Tesolus was not content to treat these men merely as mercenaries. Excellent archers should be utilized properly, not treated as temporary supplements before battle. It would be best to make them true members of the army, capable of observing discipline and coordinating with other units.
Of course, there were no tents. They had simply found a wide, open clearing and set up camp. If they were unlucky enough to encounter rain at that moment, they could only take shelter in the dense forest. Even then, they would have to remain constantly on edge. After all, they were clad in heavy metal armor.
Fortunately, the sky remained clear. One could see specks of starlight and a bright moon, with no sign of rain.
No matter how exhausted they were, no one dared neglect their warhorses. Each soldier took a hemp sack, filled it with grain, and fed their warhorses, which had labored all day. The great warhorses thrust their muzzles into the sacks, and the crunching and gnashing sounds were unceasing. From time to time, a horse would snort loudly and flick its tail to drive away the forest's mosquitoes and gnats.
The mountain dwellers appeared carefree. Having nothing more to desire, they were exceptionally easygoing. Tesolus, however, felt uneasy. He could not shake the feeling that the mudslide they encountered on the road today was suspicious. In fact, he was apprehensive about the alternative route they were to take because it seemed as though someone were forcing them onto that path.
The wood in the bonfire slowly burned, continuously emitting faint crackling sounds. Apart from those on night watch, most had already fallen asleep. Only Tesolus remained seated by the bonfire. His sharp eyes were thoughtful, and his fingers lightly tapped the hilt of the sword at his waist.
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