Since ancient times, to become a qualified mediator, you must have a certain strength, and it is obvious that Arold does not have this strength, but now Yves and this mercenary from England are looking for the bottom of the stairs, and the two powerful warriors know very well that the opponent is not easy to mess with, but as the heir of this territory, if Yves lets this stranger go like this, then how will he serve the public in the future. And this English mercenary is also very aware of his situation, don't look at him is so strong now, but in fact he has been looking for a way to escape for a long time, and there are a few reckless people who can become mercenaries and live well, and at this time Arold intervened, which eased the tense atmosphere between the two sides.

"Although I sympathize with your plight, this gentleman, you lost to my brother after all, so you have to pay the gambling money." Arold stood between the two sides, he raised his right hand to stop the English mercenaries who wanted to refute, and then turned to his brother Eve, and said, "My brother, the rightful heir to this land, as the master and the noble Germanic nobleman, we cannot be too harsh on this guest from afar, so I suggest that this gambling money be repaid by other means, what do you think?" ”

"Oh?" Yves looked at the slender brother in front of him with interest, although he felt that Arold was speechless in his heart, but after all, he took care of his face, and he did not object immediately.

"Sue, what should I do?" The English mercenary nodded happily and asked the young mediator in front of him.

"How about paying off your debts, joining our Wendell family's army, and being loyal to my brother for a year?"

Arrod deliberately raised his voice so that the people in the tavern could hear him.

"Offer me my sword?" The English mercenary's brow furrowed, and he struggled to get the right Germanic tone.

"Hmph, I don't need a mercenary who fights for money." Yves raised his chin and said haughtily, but before his words could fall, Sir Wendell's calm and steady voice sounded.

"Ive, I think you should give your brother another thought." Sir Wendell walked in from the crowd, and the people saw their lord coming and hurriedly took off their felt hats or bowed their heads in respect.

"Well, okay then." Even if he was as arrogant as Yifu faced the de facto ruler of this territory, his father had to bow his head, and he rudely walked up to the mercenary and casually asked, "Your name mercenary?" ”

"Wo's name is Marcos, and he's good at using a sword and a hook axe." Marcos didn't care about Yves's attitude, aristocrats were so arrogant, and there was nothing better for a mercenary who was sleeping in the open than to be able to find an employer.

"Welcome to the Wendell family's army." Compared with Yve's rude attitude, Arold is much more friendly, and Arrod, whose soul comes from the 21st century, has no concept of class, he only knows that the strength of this mercenary is not inferior to his brother, and if he can subdue Marcos, then he will definitely help himself in the future.

Sir Wendell was pleased to have mercenaries join his ranks, and the peasant soldiers were only recruited to meet feudal obligations, and in fact most of the fighting forces of the feudal lords were mercenaries, and the mercenaries who were paid by their employers were more reliable than the peasants who were reluctant and ready to flee.

As soon as the English mercenary Marcos joined the team of the Wendell family, he was appointed by Sir Wendell as the instructor to train new recruits, and the mercenary with rich combat experience soon entered the role, and the listless farmers who worked hard for a few days were even more depressed by Marcos's training, which made Sir Wendell's family feel very depressed, and the bitter farmers complained to Sir one after another, thinking that this damn Englishman was planning to make everyone unable to go to the battlefield, and Arold thought that if he didn't practice now, he would die on the battlefield.

"Father, that stupid Englishman is about to drive our peasants crazy, and he must be made to stop this stupidity." Yves strode up to his father and said dissatisfiedly, and at this time in the open space of the house, Marcos was energetically waving a short and thick wooden stick, driving the peasants with stones on their legs to run everywhere, and those who were slightly behind would be taught a hard lesson by him with a big stick.

"Lord Marcos, please come here." Sir Wendell didn't understand why this mercenary didn't teach the peasants to line up, but instead made them run like crazy, after all, Sir Wendell was also a nobleman with orthodox military training, and his own eldest son's doubts today were also what he wanted to ask.

"Since, sir." Ever since Marcos established a mercenary relationship with the Wendell family, he has had a lot of respect for the people of the Wendell family, which according to him is a mercenary tradition.

"Why don't you train your soldiers to line up?" Sir Wendell asked.

"Si drops, their war pox is very poor, the battle will definitely be Si, and it depends on the fast." Marcos even gestured and said in unskilled Germanic language, it took a long time for the Wendell family to understand what he meant, it turned out that according to Marcos's standards, these thin peasant soldiers have too poor physical strength and will, if they meet experienced samurai in battle, they will definitely be defeated like cutting melons, and combat skills cannot be increased in the short term, so it is better to think about how to preserve strength is the most important thing.

"What, what kind of bullshit is this, we just want to train the farmers not to run away, you better make these guys run faster." After listening to Marcos's words, Yves's face turned red like a lobster, and his rough scolding and spitting stars splashed everywhere.

Sir Wendell frowned when he heard this, in fact, Marcos was right, but the plan he thought of was completely the mercenary's way of fighting, while the nobles' way of fighting was completely different, and even the nobles asked their conscripted infantry to line up in a neat line, and their real intention was not entirely from a military point of view, their real intention was to drive these reluctant farmers to the battlefield and prevent them from escaping in chaos.

"Father, please look at this from a different angle." Arold, who was standing beside Sir Wendell and holding his father's sword, was keenly aware of Sir Wendell's dissatisfaction, and he hurriedly said to Sir Wendell.

"Oh? Arold, what do you recommend? "Ever since Sir Wendell found out that his youngest son had fallen from his horse, he had been markedly wiser, and from time to time he had a special skill, which was completely different from the roughness of his eldest son, which made him often willing to consult with Arrod on matters and listen to Arold's good advice.

"What Lord Marcos said is not unreasonable, our family is the last of Duke Mason's vassals, not only does not have heavy cavalry, but even medium infantry cannot be gathered, so even on the regular battlefield can not control the development of the war, in this case, why not train these peasant soldiers into stragglers who weaken the enemy, that is, to preserve the strength of our family and help the Duke." Arold said loudly.

"Skirmishers?" Sir Wendell had never heard of such a tactic, and he looked at his young son with suspicion, which Eves had long scoffed at, believing that Arold was merely grandstanding.

"That's right, look." As he spoke, he squatted on the ground and fiddled, and the others unconsciously gathered around, only to see Arod pick up many small pebbles on the ground and arrange them into two camps, one side lined up in a dense square array, and the other side was loose.

"Oh? Is this a simulated war? Sir Wendell saw Arold fiddle with pebbles, and he immediately realized that this was a simulated positional battle.

"Yes, Father, please see, the left army is lined up in a neat line, and their marching speed must be very slow, although it is very powerful in a frontal battle, but as long as it does not approach them, the left army will have nothing to do." Arold carefully analyzed to his father and brother.

"Hmph, how can you hit your opponents if you don't get close to them, not to mention that if you divide your own people so loosely, those farmers will sneak away without you noticing." Yves said disdainfully.

"Use ranged weapons." Arold looked up and said to Yve.

"Ranged weapons? With what? Bow and arrow? Sir Wendell shook his head when he heard this, this is really unrealistic, you must know that there are only two bows in his family's arsenal, and bows and arrows are even more consumable, and the use of bows and arrows in large quantities is not something that a small family like them can afford, not to mention that the use of bows and arrows requires long-term practice, not something that can be mastered by farmers who pick up farm tools.

"Well, with a slingshot." Originally, Arold wanted to advise his father to build a skirmish that used javelins like the Roman light infantry, but looking at the emaciated peasants, he realized that these people did not have the arm strength to project powerful javelins, so he used a slingshot as a child, and as long as the materials were good, he could make a more powerful slingshot.

"Slingshot? What is that? Everyone was stunned, they had never heard of such a thing, not even in the Germanic languages of this time, and Arold had to take great pains to explain that it was a weapon equivalent to a sling, only more powerful.

"If we use long-range weapons, we can indeed reduce the mortality rate of our people, but I am worried that our people will not be strong-willed to fight." Sir Wendell touched his chin, and he began to be tempted by the tactics of his young son, the death of the farmer would reduce the income of his domain, and he was not willing to recruit them to fight for him if he did not have to fulfill his feudal obligations.

"Hmph." Unconvinced, Yves rushed forward, he picked up a big stone and smashed it hard among the skirmishers, and then said in a rough voice, "If the enemy has cavalry, they will soon break through to the stragglers, and then those little tricks of yours will not be useful at all." ”

"That's right, so we're going to split us into three teams, with Father, Ive, and I leading four of them each, so that whoever gets hit can be supported."

"Well, that's a good idea, so it can also prevent the peasants from escaping." Sir Wendell nodded that it was a good idea, and that a flexible command system might not be theoretically understandable by Sir Wendell, but in practice he keenly believed that it was more effective than a rough mass command.