Medieval Knight System: Building the Strongest Empire Ever!

Chapter 295: Quality Cavalry for Free

There was a reason they were called Europe’s isolated immigrants. As far as I know, they descend from nomads who crossed over from Asia, and it seems a trace of East Asian culture still remains.

"I was originally a noble of Kemet. Our clan lived in Kemet for generations, but the tyrant seized Kemet from us by force, and we became wanderers."

The tyrant of Hungary would most likely mean King Mátyás. But if my memory serves, Michael had told me these men were a mercenary company sent by King Mátyás.

I didn’t know Hungary’s internal affairs, but if it’s a feudal society like this one, the strengthening of royal power and radical reform can become grounds for civil war. And the clan of this Hungarian mercenary before me had lost.

They hadn’t merely been stripped of their rights and lands; they’d been banished, and most of them crossed into Bohemia and Bavaria. That was when the grand duke of Bavaria hired them en masse, so the story went.

Doesn’t something seem off?

Being driven out and being dispatched are two very different things.

"Weren’t you a mercenary company dispatched by King Mátyás for some purpose?"

"That tyrant is waging a bloody war against the Ottomans. Why would he dispatch us all the way here? Most of the Hungarians here are exiles!"

Barosi dismissed it as utter nonsense. I slowly turned my gaze to the interpreter, who had been furtively reading the room. Barosi, sensing something was off as well, glared at him.

"You. How exactly have you been interpreting?"

"I-it seems the conversation got crossed somewhere!"

"Even so, how do you confuse being banished with being dispatched? Looks like you’ve been blurting out whatever came to mind without a shred of context."

The interpreter wore a deeply aggrieved expression, one that seemed to protest: if you can speak Hungarian this fluently, why not do it yourself instead of putting a man who only knows East German to work as your interpreter?

Well, what can you do?

If you don’t like it, go become a noble yourself.

"We’ll have to reset this relationship from scratch. Answer my questions honestly."

"If it means correcting the miscommunication, I’ll gladly answer."

"The Hungarians currently employed by Bavaria, are they all exiles?"

"They are. But the factions are deeply divided, and some of the clans among them are hostile to us."

Hmm, so the Hungarians were politically fractured too.

Then again, politics exists everywhere in this world, without exception.

"What’s your relationship with the Hungarian mercenaries I took prisoner?"

"If possible, I’d like to kill them with my own hands. Those men are tied to Poland. They’re the lackeys of the invaders who frequently attacked our lands over territorial interests."

He insisted they were even worse than the tyrant who had banished his clan from their homeland. What a relief. I’d been a little worried they might hold a grudge against me for killing Hungarian cavalry, had those men been of the same faction.

"Please convey our words properly to our employer. I can’t trust that interpreter."

"He’s certainly been botching the interpretation. So, what is it you want from Michael?"

"Accept us as settlers, not mercenaries!"

"Grown tired of the wandering life?"

"Mercenary work isn’t bad in itself, but it’s not just us. We have families. Our people gave up the nomadic life back in my grandfather’s generation, so how are we supposed to live as nomads now?"

The Hungarians retain traces of their nomadic, East Asian heritage, but that was generations ago; by now they have assimilated with Europe in most respects. These people are fellow Christians too.

"Your employer can’t give you land. He’s a high noble without a fief."

"Without a fief? Every Hungarian noble has land, though."

"That’s probably because Hungary has few nobles. Beren has an awful lot of them."

"Goodness! We were judging everything by our own standards. We assumed that was the norm!"

The ignorance ran both ways. I should have learned Hungarian sooner. Then Michael could have worked out some arrangement for them. Instead, they’d been unfairly branded as barbarians.

In any case, after conferring with their representative, we agreed that for now they would be assigned under my command as mercenaries and follow my orders. Securing a settlement was postponed for later, though I might be the one who could solve that.

Feuzen alone would be a stretch, but between Rosenheim and the two villages of Baschurten I’d acquire later, there might be room enough for the Hungarians to settle.

True to their nomad blood, the Hungarians were the finest riders among Europeans, and valiant besides. The age of gunpowder had arrived, but cavalry remained the backbone of any army, and these men would become a considerable asset to me.

But which land should I grant them for a settlement?

Counting my chickens, I know, but I gave it some thought anyway.

Ladwig seemed like the best fit. Ladwig is a land of open plains, ideal conditions for Hungarian cavalry to operate. I could even have them establish a stud farm there, so it’d be killing two birds with one stone, wouldn’t it?

The place was already destroyed anyway, so I could raze what was left, build it into a new Hungarian settlement, and have them owe military service in place of taxes. Fine by me: I’d get quality cavalry for free.

"Some of our Hungarian brethren remain with Bavaria. Among them, the Kuschak branch was on friendly terms with us, and we may end up fighting them."

"Who has time to sort that out on a battlefield? Settle it after we win."

"We will handle the Hungarian mercenaries employed by Bavaria ourselves."

He was proposing a division of roles. I had no desire to deal with troublesome Hungarian cavalry myself, so I left that to Barosi. Hungarian mercenaries would be easier to control under a Hungarian commander anyway.

Barosi hurried out, saying he’d muster the cavalry.

The interpreter looked at me and clicked his tongue in amazement.

"I’m simply astonished that you know the Hungarian tongue, my lord."

"Hm? You’re still here? There’s no work left for you."

"Whaaat?! Th-then what about me?"

The interpreter was, in the end, dismissed.

He had been of some help, relaying the Hungarians’ words through East German, but the problem was that his mistranslations were far too frequent. Because of that, communication had never come through properly.

East German is a hodgepodge of regional tongues—Bohemian, Polish, Hungarian, and more—all jumbled together, so it might as well be a different language entirely. No wonder nothing got through correctly.

The 45 Gale Knights under my command, 100 duchy cavalry, and 150 Hungarian mercenaries—295 men in total—rode out to protect the refugees fleeing toward Radensdorf.

Thundering hooves!

By now the main interception force had probably clashed with the Bavarian vanguard, but I ignored the glory to be had there and diligently made my rounds of the lands surrounding Radensdorf, protecting refugees.

The refugees weren’t arriving in organized groups; they fled in scattered trickles, so any refugee separated from the rest became easy prey for bandit gangs. I therefore split my force and spread the men out in all directions.

"It’s a patrol! Damn it!"

"R-run! Aaargh!"

The bandit gangs weren’t large in number, and most consisted of deserters, mercenaries, or peasants. Naturally, I crushed them without mercy while rescuing the refugees.

Besides bandits of common birth, we came across fallen robber knights and nobles often enough as well. We even captured a knight who styled himself a noble of Jürgen in Radensdorf.

All of this is the aftermath of war.

It doesn’t simply end with one faction winning and another losing.

When war breaks out, the lives of the common folk are laid waste in equal measure. The merit-hungry nobles had worked hard to maintain public order, and yet things still looked like this; these vermin boasted a vitality beyond even cockroaches.

Fortunately, our unit suffered no deaths.

Only about 15 men were wounded, and none of the wounds were life-threatening.

I was a little disappointed to miss the great cavalry battle against Bavaria, but there was no need to risk my life fighting, so I diligently roamed the surrounding lands and helped the refugees without a hitch.

But then...

"Commander! The interception force has been annihilated! Send reinforcements, quickly!"

With those words, the blood-soaked messenger died.

An arrow was lodged in his back.