Chapter 1571: Reglaf Migrates Food and Establishes His Credit

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The autumn rains are over and the north wind is quickly drying out the soggy Shannon.

A town grew up around the Abbey of Saint-Maximin, which was actually a collection of small villages.

The villagers have learned that a group of Normans will arrive, and the abbot appeals to everyone not to be afraid: "That is the King of Mercia and the Baron of Shannon. He will be your master from now on. Don't be afraid, he promises not to harm you..."

Are the abbot's words really reliable? Obviously in past propaganda, the Normans were synonymous with Satan.

It's winter, and the villagers only need to look at the increasingly cold weather to stop them from thinking about escaping.

They can only work step by step to wait for winter, and life is still as hard as before.

But before the group of Normans arrived, the situation had indeed changed in recent days.

The count's army that was once stationed here served as both a garrison and an informant to monitor the people. In the autumn, these troops served as tax envoys.

The villagers feared those warriors because if they did not pay taxes and illegally logged, hunted and fished, the whole family would become serfs if they could not pay heavy fines.

Such a punishment could not be prevented by the monastery, but the priests had been saying that the Normans were demons who ate people without spitting out bones.

The villagers had never seen the Normans, but they faced an increasingly tyrannical garrison every year.

What they didn't know was that garrisoning didn't have to be like this, but Tours was a major force during the civil war. The old count Hugo III pioneered violent expansion, and his successors could only expand the war according to established strategies.

The fruits of victory in the war were owned by nobles at all levels, and the villagers in the areas directly under the earl's jurisdiction were the first to pay the price.

The villagers did not like the troops living in the villages and towns, and they were secretly happy when they saw them packing their luggage and riding away on horseback. Of course, the barracks left by the army were empty and could be converted into barns, but the villagers did not dare to get involved, for fear that those guys would come back to kill them.

As a result, some people even began to look forward to the Normans who were expected to arrive in rowing boats.

Life is already like this anyway, can it get worse with a new master? In case the Normans came there would be some beneficial changes.

In the midst of mixed emotions, they saw a long and narrow fleet of boats drifting on the river from a distance.

"It's the Normans! They! They are really coming!" A nervous junior priest rushed into the monastery.

"Quiet! Remember your identity!" Dean Bode scolded in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, Papa, but..."

"Hey, the day has finally come. Help me up. It's time to have a good chat with the new Baron Shannon." The old Bode stood up with the support of the junior priest.

He is not too old to walk, but Shannon is generally a relatively humid place. The priests advocate asceticism and are very conservative in food and drink. In addition, important ritual activities are concentrated in winter, and Dean Bode wants to do it in winter. Concentrated on work, I gradually developed cold legs. During the cold autumn rain, his joints ached, but the condition would get better if the air became dry after snowfall.

He could bear this pain, and he approached the river with his entourage, followed by almost all the monastery's junior priests and the choir boys.

A group of bold villagers also followed, just to make sure that these Normans were not villains who killed everyone on sight.

On the other hand, the fleet on the river suddenly saw a castle-like building on the hillside.

"What is that? Did someone tell me?" Reglaf squinted and looked to the left, and his men looked at each other in confusion.

"Boss, no one told you? It looks like a castle. Maybe..." Old Eric said.

"Ah? Could it be that he is the castle that Hugo mentioned?" He realized that the reality was actually like this, which was very different from everyone's fantasy.

"Maybe that's the truth. It seems... we will build a new castle on the ruins in the future. But before that, we have to find a good place to live in Shannon. We can't go to the hillside to play with stones in winter." Lei Graf said.

The castle they saw was indeed the one Hugo said, but the young man on the hospital bed didn't know what was going on there.

It was once a military garrison built in the Roman era. Rain, snow, wind and frost destroyed the old castle. It has turned into a ruin with only its foundation on the hillside. Now in early winter, you can still see its clues. In midsummer, the old castle has been drilled out of the cracks in the wall. Bushes and overgrown weeds completely obscured its appearance.

It was a fortress with a width of 280 meters. It once had large-scale stone walls and stone towers, and the barracks inside were also made of stone.

The Romans who built it used local materials. They did not use cement mortar, but relied on the gravity of stones to build a fortress. A fortress was quickly built. As long as it was properly maintained, it could stand for hundreds of years. However, after the fall of Rome, the newly born Frank had no intention of repairing it. it.

In principle, it is the property of the Count of Tours. There are many Roman ruins like this in Tours' jurisdiction. The count has neither the financial resources nor the reason to repair all those ruins. A large number of ruins are just watching it turn into ashes. No one cares about the fans.

Unless some ruins are developed to have new value.

Having a castle on a hillside can demonstrate the authority of the ruler, and Reglaf hopes to rebuild it and put his own Mercian king's flag on it.

"Keep paddling." He turned his face sideways and continued to stare straight ahead.

It didn't take long before the town of Shannon arrived.

There is no need to distinguish at all. The town consists of several small villages built along the river. The buildings of the villagers are all very simple haystack houses. The largest building here is clearly identifiable - Saint-Maximin Monastery.

Looking carefully, a pair of eyes on the boat noticed a group of people standing by the river.

"Haha, they are the ones who welcome you. Boss, it seems you are quite popular with them." Eric joked.

"Welcome, I can't tell. That's fine, I'll have a chat with them when I land." After that, Reglaf turned around and called to his soldiers in orange clothes: "Attention! When we get ashore, we will form a team and the war wall will be waiting for me. Order! No one is allowed to leave the team!"

The soldiers roared, guessing that their master was going to give the local villagers a visual deterrent.

On one side, people are happily preparing to land, while on the other side, people on the shore are waiting anxiously.

Finally, the landing operation began.

First, the long boat rowed by the master washed up on the beach in public. The hard oak keel was directly planted on the cold mud, and it was embedded in it. The long boat was stuck with the earth like a mortise and tenon structure.

A group of orange warriors struggled to get out of the ship holding on to the bow of the ship, so that their boots would not get wet.

"Hurry up, get off the boat and pull the other boats ashore! You have to move fast!" Regraf shouted as he walked with his fist raised, and all his actions were watched by the greeters on the shore.

Abbot Bode frowned. He wanted to go up and ask, but he didn't dare to move after seeing such a scene.

The lower priests were whispering around him, and Bode was at a loss. He could only passively wait for the Normans to end their tricks.

The string of ships was easily dismantled. After cutting the ropes with an axe, the people who came ashore first took over the cables thrown over, shouted the trumpet and dragged them one after another until they were halfway aground, and then pulled the prepared pointed wooden boats. The piles were hammered into the mud with a sledgehammer to serve as wooden piles to tie the boats to.

Their movements were swift and skillful, and for the teachers and villagers who were watching, they were mesmerized. They really added a grand event to the days when entertainment was scarce.

Regraf noticed that the work was basically completed, but his people were still moving in a hurry. They were now panting and waiting for the next order.

"Flagbearers, raise our flag. Everyone, line up! Just like the Rus army..." Reglaf finally ordered.

There was no time to unload the goods, so a hundred strong men lined up in three rows, with some close men standing next to Reglaf.

They were a group of men in orange robes, all of whom were older and had beards, and some even had their beards combed into braids.

They all carry round shields, all have swords hanging from their waists, and even their helmets are of the same style. In this way, the military appearance and temperament are completely different from those of the previous garrisons.

A young man with a somewhat immature face stood in front of the team. Dean Bode's eyes lit up because he had learned that the new Baron Shannon was very young.

light.

Bode had the courage to step forward alone with a wooden staff, while his entourage carrying the cross behind him was still trembling.

Seeing this scene, Reglaf ordered all his men to stand at attention.

He walked forward alone, holding the hilt of his sword, and stood directly in front of the abbot.

Reglaf crossed himself on his chest, then slightly raised his head in greeting: "Papa, are you the local Abbot Bode?"

"You? Do you know me?" Bode felt timid but his eyes lit up.

"It seems so. It was Archbishop Vivian who told me about your situation. As you can see, I am Baron Shannon, and my name is Reglaf Rurikson de Mercia-Shannon." Regla The husband followed the registration etiquette of local nobles and introduced his identity in Latin.

From the beginning of their meeting with Bode, Reglaf had been conversing in Latin. He understood the importance of the first feeling when meeting for the first time, and now he had indeed established an amazing and good image in the other person's heart.

In other words, there were many villagers who came here to watch. Through this elegant and easy-going performance, the brutal image of the Normans was greatly improved, at least in the eyes of the local people in Shannon.

"You...are Master Reglaf. I am Bode, Bode of Saint-Maximin Monastery." The dean formally introduced himself again.

"Okay, now we know each other. As you can see, I brought my army back, and we will be this kind of lord from now on. But you should also know that my other identity is the King of Mercia."

"I know, the king of a distant island. You are living in Frank. According to your wishes, sooner or later you will counterattack the island and take back your throne." Bode asked tentatively.

"Hey! It seems that you know everything about me?" Regraf couldn't help but become vigilant.

Bode was honest: "This is what the archbishop told me in his letter. The letter said that you are a kind young warrior, but now that we meet, it is indeed true. I want to believe... that you and your warriors will indeed treat the people here kindly."

"What? There are still many doubts about me? I can understand if you have misunderstandings about me. Don't worry, I will do something to let the villagers know that we are good people."

"That's great." Dean Bode continued to hold the wooden stick and motioned Reglaf to walk into the town, especially pointing to the monastery deep inside.

"That's fine."

Therefore, Reglaf left a small group of people to guard the landing site and asked them to start moving goods on a small scale.

But this is not enough.

His old subordinate Eric was called to his side, and Regraf ordered: "I plan to recruit some people on the spot to carry the goods for us."

"Is this... okay? Do you think highly of them?" Eric frowned and asked in a low voice.

Regraf shook his head: "You have to give them some benefits so that you can use them in the future. It's like raising a puppy. At first, the puppy will be very afraid of you. After feeding some meat, the puppy will be willing to follow you. Anyway, I That's what my father said."

Old Eric thought for a while: "That's true, it's the people here..."

"My father also taught me some successful tricks, so I might as well try them here."

"What are you going to do?"

Regraf shrugged, "It's up to me."

After hearing the news, more villagers dared to come to see the fun. Rather than fear, they wanted to see who the new owner was. They also thought dialectically that if the new owner wants to control this place, how will they live if they kill everyone, then they should not wantonly destroy it.

At most, kill those who disobey them.

A pair of eyes watched a blond boy approaching, and the crowd retreated.

At the same time, Old Eric followed instructions and unloaded a sack of grain from the ship—the only sack that was unloaded.

Reglaf faced the people directly and shouted in Frankish, which he gradually became proficient in: "I am your master! Baron Shannon! I am indeed your master! I am your kind master! Now I give you a gift!"

Forget it, he pointed directly at the linen bag placed beside the boat.

"You all look

Got that pocket? There are a hundred pounds of oats in there! Be a brave man, whether you carry it or drag it, and get it to my feet, a hundred pounds of grain will be yours. "

Regraf was filled with joy and was looking forward to the success of the move "Moving Trees to Lixin", but the people were whispering among themselves and no one showed up.

Reglaf shouted several more times. Without anyone participating, the performance would have become an embarrassing farce, further proving the extreme distrust of the locals.

Just when Old Eric and the other brothers were about to give up, a man finally stood up.

Look at the man who just walked out of the crowd, and there was a lady who looked like his wife trying to pull him away.

The man shook off the woman's pull and boldly approached Regraf. His heart was beating fast and his feet felt softer and weaker the more he walked.

"Sir...your promise...is it true?"

"Really." Regraf said with joy, "You can do it. You are the bravest among these people. As long as you do it, you can get such a reward."

"Okay! I'll do it...I'll do it!"

Under the attention of many blond Normans, the man nervously approached the sack and struggled to pick it up. He approached Regrave one step at a time and put it down heavily: "I'm done."

"Very good." Reglaf asked again, "What's your name?"

"Paul."

"Paul." Reglaf nodded, and then announced openly and angrily: "This Baron has decided! Give the villager Paul a hundred pounds of oats!"

After that, he said, "Paul, you can take this bag of grain away."

Regraf followed the instructions taught by his father. According to the procedure, the villagers who received the reward should cheer.

When Paul took the sack back, he opened the drawstring with trembling hands. When he saw the brown shelled oats inside, he and his wife cried with joy, and many villagers also cheered.

As for the abbot and the priests, their jaws dropped.

Before Reglaf's performance was over, he announced again: "I want a hundred men to do labor! If you are brave, come and work for me. After unloading the ship's cargo, each man will be rewarded with twenty pounds of wheat!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd immediately became excited.

What does twenty pounds of wheat mean? In Turbine and Aquitaine, the weights and measures of Roman times were still used. The multiplication of the distance of ten steps is the "one acre" here, because the stride distance of an adult man is roughly the same in the East and the West, which is objectively very similar to the "one acre" in the East.

Because one thousand steps defines one Roman mile, ten steps multiplied together is the minimum acceptable farmland area. However, in reality, the implementation of such farmland area planning is not only uneven, but also diverse.

With rough broadcasting agriculture, wheat germination rate, competition among seeds for nutrients, irrigation relying on the sky, and non-existent fertilization, sowing twenty pounds of seed grain, and harvesting one hundred pounds in the autumn is a bumper harvest! This nets us eighty pounds of wheat, because the portion deducted is for next year's planting.

These eighty pounds of wheat were subject to exorbitant taxes from the nobles, and forty to fifty pounds were taken away from the normal ones.

In this way, if there is a bad harvest, the free people's grain will become a loss-making business. In order to survive, they can only sell their fields. If they can't buy anything, their whole family will become serfs.

As for the local serfs in Shannon, the Earl of Tours always only reserved seed grain and rations for them, and took away all the other property.

Almost all the people who dared to come to see the excitement were local free citizens.

They were yeoman farmers, and how the new lords would face Shannon would directly affect the interests of the yeoman farmers. Paul's family, who moved the grain, were homesteaders.

The reward of twenty pounds of wheat was the surplus of a Roman acre of farmland after paying the heavy taxes and taxes.

Receiving this reward is quite important to the people.

They saw examples of success, with a hundred men rushing out in a short time after being called upon. They are all thin and short, the result of long-term chronic malnutrition, but they are enthusiastic about carrying food.

In this way, Reglaf once again lamented the command of his father Rurik.

He led his troops in formation and approached the astonished clergy. Regraf

Facing the trembling Bode: "Papa, now we can visit Shannon, please lead us."

"You... actually gave them a reward."

"How? Those are my subjects."

"You! You are the merciful king."

Regraf shook his head and joked: "Ercia means mercy in Latin. I am the King of Mercia."

"Oh God." After Bode watched the whole process, he kept crossing himself and sighed with emotion that Shannon was divided from Tours into an independent noble territory, and what a good man he welcomed.

What further subverted his cognition was that the good people were a group of blond Normans.

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