Volume II: The Iron and Blood Baron Chapter 158: The Battle for Norlandenburg (Part 32)

With each passing day closer to winter, the autumn nights grew another fraction colder. Tonight, a layer of frost had already formed atop the ramparts of Norlandenburg, signifying that the first snowfall would not be long in coming and that the bitter winter was about to descend upon the North.

Two Norlandenburg militiamen, wrapped in woolen cloaks, shivered from the cold on the western battlements. Standing beside a brazier, they rested their spears diagonally across their shoulders and extended their hands over the fire to warm them; otherwise, they would soon be unable to hold their weapons steady.

One of the militiamen let out a yawn, his breath forming a clearly visible white mist in the firelight, further bearing witness to the night's chill.

Leaning lazily against the parapet, the yawning militiaman said to his companion, "This weather is truly freezing. After the watch changes in the middle of the night, I'm going to add another blanket to my bed, or I'll freeze to death."

The other militiaman rubbed his numb hands and retorted, "Look at you, such a coward. You can't even handle this bit of cold, and you call yourself a Northerner."

"Hey, aren't Northerners allowed to feel cold? Though, my whole family is from the North, and apart from me, none of them are quite this sensitive to the cold," the first militiaman sighed.

At this, the second militiaman flashed a sly grin and said, "Oh, is that so? I have a bold prediction about the reason why you're so afraid of the cold. While I can't guarantee it's entirely accurate, it's pretty close."

"Oh? Your lad has such talents? We've known each other for several months now, how come I never knew you were a scholar?" the first militiaman mocked.

"Hmph, if you don't care to listen, I certainly won't bother explaining. For the past couple of days I've been giving you a friendly look, and now you've forgotten your place," the other militiaman snapped back.

"Hahaha!" The first militiaman burst into laughter, then threw an arm around his shoulder and said, "Good brother, tell me then, why am I so afraid of the cold?"

Seeing the genuine sincerity in his attitude, the second militiaman nodded and explained, "Actually, the reason is quite simple. In all likelihood, your mother had an affair with a man from the South. You aren't your father's biological son; that Southern man is your real father, which is why you're afraid of the cold."

Before he could finish his sentence, the first militiaman threw a punch at him, which the other nimbly dodged. Seeing that he missed, he cursed angrily, "You dog, it's your mother who was fooling around with some stray bastard from parts unknown!"

"Hey! Hey! Hey! I was just making a joke, why are you getting so worked up?" the other militiaman laughed.

"Get lost, is that the kind of joke you just throw around casually? Don't talk to me for the next few days, you bastard." It seemed the first militiaman was truly angered.

Realizing his companion was genuinely upset, the other militiaman quickly stepped forward, putting on a smiling face and uttering flattering words. After all, he knew his joke had indeed crossed the line and felt a twinge of remorse, apologizing profusely.

Just as they were speaking, a faint sound of a bell suddenly drifted up from the crenels nearby. They instantly stopped their banter and grew alert.

One of the militiamen glanced down past the embrasure, then exchanged a knowing look with his companion. The other immediately caught on and shouted loudly, "Fine! This time, I'll forgive you. Let this be the last time—if you dare make a joke like that with me again, I swear I'll hack you to pieces!"

"Good! Good! Good! Don't you worry. I swear by the great God of Fire that I will never make such a joke with you again, you have my word," the second militiaman replied with a fawning smile.

After a brief pause, he continued, "Besides, you won't even need to hack me to pieces; chances are we'll both be hacked to death by the Toba pirates tomorrow."

Hearing this, the first militiaman asked, "Why would you say that? We've been holding our ground quite smoothly these past couple of days. Although the city gates caught fire during the day and we suffered a bit, we still killed plenty of pirates and beat back their assaults."

"Bah! Don't look at how we've beaten back their attacks these past two days—the gate is completely ruined. You wouldn't know, but during dinner I ran into a neighbor guarding the gatehouse, and he told me the gate is utterly destroyed. If the pirates give it another hard charge, it'll collapse. Without the gate, do you think we can beat the pirates?" the other militiaman explained with deep dejection.

"Ah!" The first militiaman gasped in fright, then hurriedly asked, "Wait, no... Commander Barrett should have sent people to fix it, right? Carpenters can repair a gate pretty quickly."

"Fix it? How? The pirates shot off several rounds of fire arrows these past two days, and the timber shed inside the castle has been completely burned down. There are hardly any logs left to use," his companion explained.

Hearing this explanation, the first militiaman was terrified out of his wits. He muttered to himself, "This... what are we supposed to do now? Are we just going to die like this? I just got married to my wife, I don't want to die!"

"Spit, spit, spit! Talk of dying and more dying, you coward!" the other militiaman said in disgust. "I heard from that neighbor of mine that Commander Barrett has already ordered people to dismantle the wood inside the castle. They should be able to reinforce the gate by the latter half of the night. It's not as bad as all that—though a hasty reinforcement won't be as sturdy as before, it'll hold up against a day's worth of battering."

Hearing this, the first militiaman turned his sorrow into joy. He nodded excitedly, then laughed and cursed, "You little bastard, you really are something else. There was no problem to begin with, yet you deliberately dragged it out to scare me! If the gate will be fixed by the middle of the night, what on earth do we have to worry about?"

Hearing his companion curse him, the second militiaman shot back with more mockery, and the two of them went back and forth, creating quite a lively scene.

Meanwhile, a Toba pirate who had nearly climbed to the top of the ramparts heard their entire conversation. Elated, he quickly scrambled back down, eager to rush back and report this vital intelligence to his chieftain.

Seeing the eavesdropper retreat, the two militiamen immediately went to report the situation to Gamlin, who was in charge of the guards on the western and northern walls. Hearing their report, Gamlin patted them on the shoulders with excitement. "Good! You two did an exceptional job. I've logged your merits, and once we completely wipe out these pirates, I will personally request a reward for you from my Lord."

Hearing that the castellan would personally request a reward from the Lord on their behalf, radiant smiles broke out across their faces, and they thanked Gamlin profusely.

"Thank you, Lord Castellan."

"Lord Castellan, you are truly wonderful, the God of Fire will surely bless you."

"Lord Gamlin, if there is anything you need in the future, just give us brothers the word."
......

Seeing the two of them about to descend into mindless flattery and sycophancy, Gamlin quickly cut them off. After offering a few words of encouragement, he instructed them to return to their posts and hold their ground.

As soon as the two militiamen departed, Gamlin strode directly to the gate tower and shook Barrett, who was fast asleep inside, rudely waking him up.