Three Smelly Cobblers

Outside the castle, the Red Mill stood silent tonight, its lights extinguished.

The battlefield of slaughter from daytime had been cleaned up. Roger and the others had dragged the corpses to the castle church for storage. In the hall's "reserved seating area," candle flames burned like beans, and three elongated shadows flickered eerily in the dancing light.

Roger raised his wine cup and took a tasteless sip, his gaze moving back and forth between the two vacant-eyed thugs.

Roger knew he had taken down a formidable bandit lord. Over the years, countless lords and sea merchants had wanted this man dead, yet none had succeeded.

At this moment, Roger felt immensely fortunate. The original owner's image as a bully who feared the strong and preyed on the weak, steeped in infamy, had been his best cover. Had the other side shown even the slightest wariness, Roger could never have defeated him in a single move.

They had waited all afternoon, and even when night fell, the expected pirate retaliation had yet to come. But those pirates could not possibly let them off so easily, so they were still in grave danger.

In truth, Roger could have hidden inside heavily guarded Brodick Castle. His pale-faced cousin had ultimately remembered their blood ties and sent someone to summon Roger into the castle for refuge.

But Pale Face had sternly refused to allow the two thugs, Baldy and Ponytail, into the castle. So Roger, righteous enough to stand by his brothers through thick and thin, had another fit of madness and resolutely decided to stay in town overnight with them, moving the two thugs, who had never received any concern from anyone, beyond measure.

Other than the castle, the safest place in town was this Red Mill. At the very least, its ground floor was built of stone blocks, its walls had no cracks, and its front doors could be tightly shut.

Because of the daytime slaughter, the diners had scattered and fled, forcing the Red Mill to close for the night.

Since Young Master Roger had already paid for the night's lost revenue, the serving girls could finally sleep soundly in their own beds. Quite a few of them now both feared and adored the suddenly changed Young Master Roger, and tonight, most of their idle chatter concerned his skills in bed.

Roger knew nothing of the prostitutes' thoughts. He lightly tapped the tabletop with his wine cup, waking the two thugs from their wandering reveries. "Two warriors, it's already deep into the night. Have you thought of a way to deal with this?"

"Young Master Roger, I think we should hide here for a few days. Lord Baron and the others should be back by then, and those pirates will surely leave on their own." Despite changing into the bandit lord's clothes, Baldy was still the same cowardly rat.

"That's all you came up with after half a night? You bastard, how many more days do you plan to hide? How many days can you hide?" Roger truly wanted to grab the black bread on the table and beat him with it.

"Then we leave Allen Island and hide in Ayrshire. They're pirates—they won't chase us too far." Since they could not hide, they would run. Baldy blurted it out while clutching the cheek that had been swollen from a slap earlier that day.

This time, Ponytail kicked him. "Use your brain. They might already have people watching nearby. Can the few of us get out? If we could run, would Young Master Roger not know to flee to Milkhouse Manor? And if we run back, can we stop those pirates from massacring the village?"

Ponytail ignored Baldy and turned to Roger. "Young Master Roger, I do have some ideas."

He had tied up that ridiculous braid again, but after going through slaughter today, his courage seemed to have grown somewhat.

"I know that lot well. They definitely won't let this go easily. They make their living on the sea; if they let their chief leader get killed without doing anything, they'll find it hard to keep a foothold at sea in the future."

"But—"

Ponytail paused, drawing out the final word.

Roger raised his eyes, and Baldy turned his head.

"But they're also fighting among themselves. The second leader is an ambitious fellow who has long been dissatisfied with Ulf. He'd be delighted if the chief leader got killed. As long as we find a way to obtain the second leader's forgiveness, then find a way to offer the pirates some compensation, perhaps this matter will simply pass."

Roger was deeply disappointed. He had thought this fellow might offer some clever plan, only for it to be nothing more than humiliating surrender and begging for mercy. Perhaps Ponytail felt no psychological resistance whatsoever to bowing his head before powerful pirates and pleading for mercy, but Roger, having lived two lives, simply refused to lower his head.

Of course, the key was that lowering his head might not even work.

"You said just now that there are conflicts within the pirates? Tell me in detail."

Ponytail had always dreamed of becoming a pirate. He called himself a descendant of Vikings whenever he met anyone, and had once joined Ulf's crew. But those sea bandits had looked down on his abilities and driven him away after only a few days.

Because of those connections, he knew that group of pirates quite well. "Their second leader is called Sea Monster. He's sly, suspicious, and extremely vicious. He beats and curses his crew at the slightest provocation."

"He was one of the earliest men to follow Ulf, and the one Ulf trusted most, so he had always been the second leader. But he is actually the worst and most ambitious of them all. He has always coveted the gold and silver Ulf hid away, and long wanted to kill Ulf and keep it all for himself."

"Ulf hid gold and silver too?" Baldy interrupted excitedly, his swollen face twitching. Today, he had gained the greatest fortune of his life from Ulf's body.

"Of course. He's been a pirate for so many years—he must have robbed plenty of gold and silver."

"Pah! You bastard, quit interrupting." Ponytail spat at Baldy and continued, "But the third leader can't stand Sea Monster, and often opposes him..."

Hearing this, Roger began to drift into thought. Some of Ponytail's words were surely hearsay, with oil and vinegar added to the tale, but there was certainly discord within the pirates. So long as his enemies were not a solid iron plate, he still had a chance to break through them.

Following that line of thought, Roger began sketching out a plan in his mind.

"...The scar on my back was left from that incident. Even the third leader admired my bravery at the time and insisted on keeping me. It was only because I truly couldn't stand that Sea Monster that I resolutely left." Ponytail was still talking without pause, and his words grew more and more inflated.

"Wasn't the scar on your back from when you stole chickens in Kildonan and got hit by a stone thrown by the fat widow? When did it become a knife wound?" Baldy asked, his face full of confusion.

Ponytail was exposed with a single remark, yet did not blush in the slightest. "What do you know? The knife scar I mentioned was from before the fat widow injured me."

Baldy still looked puzzled. "I remember you only went to join the sea wolves after the fat widow injured you."

"Hey, you bastard—" Ponytail's face darkened with displeasure.

"Enough." Roger emerged from his thoughts and stopped the two from continuing their nonsense.

The two quickly shut their mouths and stared in unison at Roger's narrow eyes flickering in the candlelight.

Roger looked Ponytail over several times. The man was half brave and half cowardly, but his cowardice stemmed only from having no one to rely on. Lacking confidence, he naturally had countless concerns in everything he did.

"Earl, today you dared to step forward and brave danger at the moment of life and death. That is enough to prove that the fierce courage of Viking forefathers flows through your blood." Roger wore an expression of admiration.

"From that moment onward, I have regarded you as a brother through life and death." Roger shed his usual ruffian manner, his expression incomparably solemn.

For the first time, the man accustomed to being called "Ponytail" heard someone call him by name. Then this young master of a knightly family called him brother. Amid his astonishment, he was suddenly deeply moved. In an age of rigid hierarchy, what an honor this was.

Before Ponytail could be moved to tears of gratitude, Roger said earnestly, "But if the few of us cannot survive this ordeal, we will be at the end of the road, with no way out."

"Young Master Roger, you must have thought of a way. Tell me. So long as it can help you survive this ordeal, I won't fear it even if I have to die." With just a few words from Roger, Ponytail had already fallen into the pit.

Roger laughed. "Though this young master has committed countless evil deeds, how could I send a brother through life and death to his death?"

Roger leaned slightly forward. "Do you know where that group of pirates has its nest on the island?"

"Of course I do. Whenever Lord Baron leads troops out on campaign, they dock their ships at the sheltered cape outside Luo Ke Lanzha, then hole up in an abandoned mill north of the village. It isn't much of a secret."

Roger recalled it for a moment and truly did have some impression of that abandoned mill. "Then tomorrow, you will go to Luo Ke Lanzha and seek refuge with those pirates."

"Say that you fear retaliation and have come to surrender voluntarily. Tell them of my scheme to set an ambush in Brodick Town. Make sure they do not fall for it, and urge them to leave Allen Island as quickly as possible."

"Ah!!" Ponytail's mouth fell open into a circle.

"I'm not telling you to truly join the pirates. You're only going undercover."

"What does going undercover mean?"

"It means being an inside man," Roger explained.

"You need to find a way to tell the third leader that Ulf was killed because Sea Monster colluded with Baron John. Sea Monster also intends to frame the third leader and eliminate dissidents."

"Also, I'll find a way to get some poison. When you go, secretly bring it with you. During tomorrow night's dinner, find an opportunity to poison their food and drink. Remember, you must make several of those fierce bandits take the poison."

"Tomorrow night, once the poison takes effect on the pirates, immediately raise a torch before the mill and wave it three times as a signal. Then set a great fire, and find somewhere to hide and wait for us."

This sort of dirty business—poisoning people and setting fires—was not too dangerous, yet was extremely thrilling and very much to Ponytail's taste. He immediately agreed, repeating every detail back and committing it carefully to memory.

Having dealt with Ponytail, Roger turned his gaze to Baldy, whose filthy face was swollen on one side.

Baldy thought Roger would also call him brother and give him a stirring speech. He puffed up his frog-like eyes in anticipation.

Roger opened his mouth and stared at him for a moment. "Baldy, tomorrow I'll remain in Brodick to draw the pirates' attention. Before sunrise, change into inconspicuous clothes and leave the Red Mill. You have only one task: find men for me."

"You know the islanders best. Tomorrow, I'll find a horse somehow. Go look for the bold ones, the men willing to risk their lives. The moment you meet them, give them two silver pennies."

"Tell those fellows that the bandit lord Ulf has already been killed, and Young Master John is urgently recruiting warriors to pursue the remaining pirate lackeys. Every warrior selected will receive another gold coin on the spot, and they will also receive a share of any gold, silver, and treasure seized from the pirates."

"While gathering warriors, spread the word far and wide that John IV is urgently recruiting militia to defend the city. Anyone who comes to Brodick, whether they enlist or not, will receive lunch. Hoodlums, thugs, thieves, beggars, farmers, merchants, fishermen, hunters—so long as they reach the Red Mill before noon, they will get a full meal."

Roger paused to think briefly. "Tell them that those who enlist will also receive two pennies in wages every day."

"There are thousands of islanders on Allen Island. I refuse to believe that one or two hundred brave men won't come."

After speaking, Roger pulled out his money pouch from his sleeve, selected more than a dozen gold coins, casually picked out some silver pennies, and threw all the rest to Baldy.

"Young Master Roger, there's no need to give me more money. I have some here." Baldy spoke politely, but clutched the money pouch tightly in his hand.

Roger waved a hand, signaling him to keep it.

Baldy briskly tucked the pouch into his clothes and said excitedly, "Young Master Roger, I've remembered it all. Who doesn't know that I, Neil, can summon a hundred responses with one call on Allen Island? Rest assured. By noon tomorrow, I, Neil, will bring half of Allen Island's people to you."

"I believe you." Roger paused. "Brother Neil."

Baldy finally heard the form of address "Brother Neil," and his face filled with satisfaction.

"But wait, Young Master Roger. Pale Face John never said he was recruiting soldiers to attack the pirates."

"And there are only medicinal herbs for treating illnesses in the nearby church. Where can we get deadly poison so quickly?"

It was already very late, and Roger was exhausted. He grabbed the wooden cup before him, raised it, and poured the remaining wine over his head. "I'll think of a solution for those things. Hurry and find a table to sleep on for a while..."

With danger surrounding them, though the two thugs had made a huge fortune, they had no interest in spending even one penny to find a serving girl upstairs to warm their beds. They casually found a corner and slept in their clothes.

At the stairway to the second floor overhead, Kate turned lightly and slowly walked toward her bedroom.

Before dawn had broken, rustling sounds began inside the Red Mill. Normally, the cooks and servants would clean the hall before daylight, clearing away the mess left by drunken diners. Though there had been no diners last night, they still retained their habit of rising early to work.

Roger rose very early. His nerves had been stretched taut yesterday, yet he had surprisingly slept quite soundly that night. When the "Halfpenny" serving girl woke him, the sky outside the window was just showing a pale belly of dawn.

Do not misunderstand. Roger had indeed given the girl two silver pennies, but he had not asked her to warm his bed. He had merely asked her to wake him before dawn and prepare a filling breakfast for him and his two companions.

It could not be helped. Telling time was a luxury in this era. Although the twenty-four-hour system had already appeared, the lack of timekeeping tools made it difficult to accurately determine the time.

In lordly estates or churches, people used sundials and marked rings on burning candles to calculate the hours, or used glass hourglasses with narrow necks, filled with sand or water, to tell time.

But ordinary farmers only needed to know the four seasons and a few religious and agricultural festivals. As for the time of day, they mostly used vague descriptions such as cockcrow, morning, noon, afternoon, sunset, moonrise, and moonset.

In recent days, Roger had been shut in his room all day. Being able to distinguish day from night and morning, noon, and evening had been enough. But today concerned life and death, and time was pressing. Even the worst clock would have given him much greater peace of mind.

Fortunately, Brodick Church stood right beside him. According to the memories in Roger's mind, the church rang its bells eight times a day: once for morning prayer, then a second, third, fourth time... all the way to the eighth, once every three hours.

Morning prayer was basically at six in the morning, followed by nine in the morning, noon, three in the afternoon, and continuing until three in the morning.

Of course, in reality, the priests were asleep after nine at night most of the time, and there were no bells for the final two times.