The Commander of the Reconnaissance Team, Lyon
The conversation and vows exchanged in the corridor that night were quickly buried deep in their hearts, and everything on the surface returned to its usual rhythm.
Over the next few days, Carnford focused entirely on the newly formed Musketeer Cavalry Squad.
Karl announced the new appointments to everyone: Charlotte Knight would become the commander of the reconnaissance team, with Roland as her assistant.
To be honest, the soldiers Brendan selected this time were all elites from their respective platoons, and they wholeheartedly supported Karl's leadership, but they had some doubts about Charlotte's leadership.
Apart from the few soldiers who went to Fran City with Karl to buy food, the others had never fought alongside Charlotte and were somewhat disdainful of a woman as a leader.
On the training field, Charlotte watched the soldiers clumsily fiddling with their muskets on horseback, and she harbored deep-seated skepticism about this "riding and shooting" tactic.
She couldn't help but scoff at Karl, "Fire a gun on horseback? With all that vibration, whether you hit the target or not probably depends entirely on the wind and luck."
Karl gestured for them to enter and said, "Then, Charlotte Knight, please show us what a true knight should do, shall we?"
Charlotte chuckled softly, "Then let me show you."
She easily took her longbow from beside the saddle, mounted the horse, gave a soft shout, and galloped away.
Her steed moved with astonishing stability, as if traversing flat ground.
As she sped along, she drew her bow and nocked an arrow. With almost no deliberate aiming, she heard a "whoosh" and an arrow was already embedded in the chest of a human-shaped target dozens of meters away.
Two more arrows followed, hitting the head and throat respectively; every shot found its mark.
The entire process was seamless, with the rider and horse moving as one, eliciting a murmur of amazement from the surrounding soldiers.
Even Brendan, who was supervising from the side, nodded slightly, showing an expression of approval.
Karl smiled at the surprised Roland, not at all surprised by Charlotte's reaction.
In fact, Karl was also using this move to demonstrate Charlotte's strength and gain her the respect of the crowd.
The military is a place that worships the strong. Whether male or female, as long as someone is capable, soldiers are willing to obey.
Despite her initial disdain, Charlotte began training herself to fire a gun from horseback, and she trained more rigorously and diligently than anyone else.
Her horsemanship was the best of all, her control of the horse was rock-solid, which allowed her to quickly master the knack of maintaining balance on horseback and firing a musket.
Under her personal supervision and demonstration, this small team of more than twenty people was able to complete loading, rough aiming, and volleying relatively skillfully on horseback within a week.
Although the accuracy was still appalling, at least the momentum was terrifying, and the movement was quite methodical.
On the very day the training concluded, Earl Rochefort's messenger arrived in Carnford by fast horse, bringing with him clear orders.
The main reconnaissance force has completed its initial assembly in the Icewater Creek area and is awaiting the reconnaissance detachments to rendezvous. The order is for Carnford's troops to depart immediately without delay.
Charlotte then led this Musketeer Cavalry Squad, carrying ample ammunition and ten days' rations, and prepared to set off.
Before their departure, Karl came to the castle gate to see the team off.
Karl saluted Charlotte, his tone solemn. "Charlotte, Roland, this reconnaissance mission is entrusted to you. Be careful, I await your report."
"I will not fail you." Charlotte, sitting on her horse, returned Karl's salute by placing her five fingers on her temples, her eyes sharp and confident.
Edgar stood behind Karl, as calm as ever. "Charlotte Knight, Sir Roland, please take care. Carnford needs you all to return safely."
Without much of a farewell ceremony, Charlotte and Roland mounted their horses.
Charlotte's gaze swept over her squad, and she coldly and clearly gave the order, "Move out!"
The sound of hooves broke the silence of the mountains. More than twenty riders, in two columns, trotted down the mountain path, led by Charlotte and Roland.
Some villagers working at the foot of the mountain stopped what they were doing and spontaneously waved to the group.
The group quickly passed through the living area and embarked on the road leading deeper into the Northern Territory wilderness.
Karl watched Charlotte's figure gradually disappear into the distance until it was completely out of sight.
Edgar asked with some concern, "My lord, Charlotte and Roland really up to the task? After all, this is an operation outside the city, and our cavalry aren't regular cavalry."
Karl patted Edgar on the shoulder. "I'm not a cavalry commander either, so I don't know what will happen, but Charlotte and Roland are much more reliable than me in command. All we need to do now is trust them."
Edgar nodded, his admiration for Karl growing even stronger.
This Lord not only dared to appoint people and delegate authority, but also dared to admit his own shortcomings and let professionals do professional things.
In retrospect, he was not only a military general, but also a commander-in-chief.
Two days later, Charlotte's team arrived at the agreed meeting point, Icewater Creek, as scheduled.
A sizable cavalry force had gathered in this open space near the stream, with about seventy or eighty cavalrymen scattered around, leading more than a hundred warhorses.
Charlotte and her companions' arrival immediately drew everyone's attention.
She raised her hand, signaling the squad behind her to stop. She dismounted alone and walked steadily toward a young officer in the center of the open space, wearing a gleaming cavalry breastplate and a saber at his waist. Roland followed closely behind.
Charlotte walked up to him, straightened her posture, Charlotte Carnford Rochfort, on the orders of the Count and Lord Carnford, has come to join you and report to you."
The young officer turned around at the sound, carefully examining Charlotte, a clear look of surprise and a hint of scrutiny flashing in his eyes.
A cryptic smile played on his lips. "Sir Charlotte Rochfort? I have indeed heard that the Governor's daughter is an extraordinary knight, but I never expected that Count Excellency would appoint you to command Carnford's troops."
The young officer gracefully extended his hand to Charlotte and said, "Hello, I am Lyon von Hawke, the commander-in-chief of this operation. Welcome to you and your troops."
Charlotte looked directly into the other person's eyes, extended her hand, and the two shook hands briefly before parting.
Lyon's gaze swept over Charlotte's group, lingering for a moment on the twenty cavalrymen equipped with muskets, his tone slightly inquisitive. "It seems you've brought some interesting equipment as well."
His adjutant and several nearby soldiers also cast curious, yet suspicious, glances at him.
Clearly, a dashing female commander and a team using "novel" weapons stand out in this traditional reconnaissance unit.
Charlotte seemed oblivious to the subtle skepticism in Lyon's tone, calmly replying, "Captain Lyon, Carnford's troops are in position and under the command of the reconnaissance team."
Her attitude was neither humble nor arrogant, but carried the decisiveness characteristic of a soldier.
Lyon raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by Charlotte's directness, but didn't say anything more, simply nodding. "Very good, your camp will be located on the east side of the stream."
"Understood," Charlotte replied readily, then turned and gestured to Roland, indicating that he should lead the team to the designated location to set up camp.
She stayed behind and began to learn in detail from Lyon's adjutant about the known enemy situation and the division of reconnaissance areas.