The aftermath of the fight is much more complicated then the fight itself, it would seem. First, I had to urgently construct a barrack to actually hold all the people that surrendered. Considering the fact most of them were wounded to so degree, leaving them out in the open wasn't exactly an option during winter. Especially when it started snowing. Thankfully, there is no shortage of lumber to be had, both as the construction material and as a fuel. I may have overdone it a little, as usual, the triple-layer walls of the barrack are better then most villagers have. Triple layers being good wood inside, a layer of concrete-clay panels that technically should be called bricks, but I made them as big as they could practically be to cut down on the number of seams, and an external layer of big old logs.
Then I spend even more ti on producing more concrete-clay panels and shingles for everyone else, because they're apparently looking really good to people around here and it seed illogical to at the mont to provide prisoners with better materials then my actual allies. Which accidentally a clay quarry because when I pulled enough out of that place, I stuck in the scaffolding and ramps because that's what is "supposed" to be in the clay mining spot and I didn't think about it deeply enough to rember I don't actually need all that stuff, given the telekinetic mining.
By the ti I'm done, it's late evening. Well, not late-late evening, but well into twilight hours. Taras stopped by to say sothing about more people coming tomorrow, for reasons I didn't really pay attention to. Sothing about entertainnt? Weird, to be honest, I expected winter months in Kraina to be very much inactive. Hell, it's snowing right now. Rural areas grind to halt in this kind of weather, usually. How in the na of all that is sane Stefan thought his demarche would be anything but disaster... Well, perhaps he was PLANNING on making it a disaster for Kraina. His people would have stripped every village bare for food and left behind a trail of starving people. Shitty, but I can sort of see why he would do this kind of thing "unofficially" and then sweep in to roll over the areas bled dry by this.
I briefly toy with the idea of doing so debriefing for the captives, but... yeah, they're not going anywhere and nothing they can possibly say can not wait until tomorrow. Not to ntion that people most likely to say sothing worthwhile are also the ones who got hit the hardest. Ti to retire. For the night, that is.
___
"Ork troubadours?" - I repeat.
"They actually maintain a winter camp nearby. If it were sumr, they'd be scattered to all four winds plying their trade, but..." - Taras explains - "They will be asking around, making songs about a battle like this is their bread and butter."
"So... Why is that noteworthy?" - I hum.
Taras hesitates - "Pardon , pani, but to the best of my understandings, orks are rare visitors in Champagne. I thought it better to ntion them before one of them surprises you and all the possible consequences of thereof. They're also being told about your and your companions exactly for the sa reason. After all, royalty and elves are equally rare visitors in Kraina."
"Ah. Huh, well, fair enough." - I admit - "I have no problem with orks in general, so unless those particular ones do sothing foolhardy, I think everything will be good. Have you decided what you want to do with the captives?"
"Well, you have the first refusals on them, of course." - he offers - "Past that, , Bogdan and Ivan all agree that the seven year penance is the way to go. They can either spend seven years here as laborers or they can buy themselves out if their families send them enough coin. Will probably have to send most of them out to neighboring villages pieceal, penance or no penance, there is only so much work here that can be handed out to cripples."
"Ah. Well... I'll see what I can do about getting more of them labor-capable in the next few days." - I hedge.
"That would be well appreciated by everyone." - Taras nods - "While things are not so dire that we can not afford to feed them, the more useful they can make themselves, the better are their chances of leaving our lands at so point."
___
That actually sounded urgent enough, so I co back to the barrack and dispense a considerable amount of magic healing people up. Moon Unit is pitching in too, but I'm rather loathe to explain to her just WHAT phosphine actually does to people. Now that I'm not amped up for actual war cris, it suddenly strikes that perhaps tender and loving won I happen to call wives might not quite appreciate their presumptive significant other subjecting people to toxic flammables no one had ever heard of before I happened to all those people. So I start by treating those survivors who were gassed in the camp and explain it away to Moon Unit as simply "having a better idea what needs to be fixed". I'm not entirely sure she bought the explanation, but there was no objection, so... Either I got away with it, or Moon Unit is a gloriously forgiving person. At least as far as I'm concerned, anyway.
Taking a good look around, I verify that they're about as healed up as they can be practically be with just magic. The rest will have to be done by food, rest and reasonable amounts of labor. Speaking of which... I clear my throat, standing in front of the door where everyone currently laid out on the cots can hear and see .
"So..." - I begin and at least half of the people present flinches.
" and Krainian people have had decided on your fates." - I tell them straight - "The chief culprits are dead. You lot are the survivors who did not make the big decisions, but nonetheless participated in this undeclared invasion. It would be entirely within our rights to treat you all as brigands."
I pause for a mont to let that sink in, then continue - "If this appeals to any of you, please inform of that now and I will end your lives in quick and mostly painless manner. For any of you who does not wish to be executed imdiately, you are to complete a seven year penance or buy yourself out of captivity, according to Krainian customs. Per my agreent with hetman, I get the first refusals on you lot. If any of you desires to emigate to Champagne, raise your hands now. You will be required to learn Albish, if so. The work will be within my trading company or one of the manufactories, depending on what you are good at. You will be fed and equipped within reason, and if your indentured service passes without incidents, you will be offered to continue the job on a salaried basis. If you elect to go to Champagne and then purposefully fail to show aptitude at anything at all, I will send you to my father's estate in Northern Champagne to shovel manure."
After a bit of a pause, soone in the middle scoffs quietly - "What kind of moron would volunteer to be killed?"
It may have been a rhetoric question, but... "So of you may be nobles under the oaths that require they lay down their lives in defense of their liege." - I explain patiently - "In that case, volunteering to be executed ensures whoever succeeded Stefan will not oust their families from their domains for oathbreaking and cowardice."
People exchange weirded out glances. The guy in the middle, now sitting up more properly, looks around, sees all the bewildered looks and apparently accepts his accidental role as a spokesperson. "Prince cares not to ask for strange oaths." - he finally manages with a disbelieving shake of his head - "And if such oaths are commonplace in Champagne, then I daresay we're better off with krainians. Better the beast you know..."
I shrug. "They are not." - I retort mildly - "But I wouldn't put any idiocy past a man who thought winter attack was a good idea. I an, if he thought he could hold the lands in winter, he is a fool and if he thought that winter attack will bleed out any sumr resistance, then he is a cruel bastard, and neither would shy away from binding people to himself until death. I assu there are no people interested in quick execution, so I leave you be to think it over. Anyone who fails to inform that they want to go to Champagne by tomorrow evening will be left here with krainians by default."
As I leave, I overhear the muttered - "Who'd want to go with her?" Welp, their loss, I guess.
___
The evening is... a square dance. Yeah, well, I guess I get it. Victory celebrations and all that. So I grab so spirits and sweets from warehouses to pitch in. The regular food is well in abundance by the village people, I don't need to do anything there. The music, well, that's where orkish troubadours co in. Like... twenty of them or so. I'm honestly kind of impressed, those guys are not the solo performances I expected. Twelve are musicians - and they work together as a band. At a glance, I see two drumrs, one with a pair of big old cowskin drums and another with sothing that looks like a hang drum. Four fiddlers, though the instrunts they have are different. Two have sothing very much like a classic violin, though one is notably bigger then other. Other two have things I hesitate to na. One looks like Japanese analog of fiddle... kokyo, I think. The other is sothing I don't really have a good reference for. It looks like cello-sized balalaika but with a bow. The rest, hm... There's two guys holding sothing like lutes? Maybe one of them is a mandolin. Maybe. A sole woman in their midst cos with a Pan flute, and another flutist has sothing straight and quite longer. I THINK it's also a flute, but I might be mistaken. The last two guys have sothing I have no idea about. One seems like it would work by clacking them together, I want to say that's castanets, but they're hinged. Other has sothing like a pair of hefty tongs with a thin strip of tal between. I have no idea what it would sound like, or how do you even play it. Sothing like musical saw maybe? tal strip vibration thing? Hell knows. Overall, it looks like the visitors are here for the dance. The eight of them who are not carrying any musical instrunts are dressed in clothes that would be considered garishly colorful even by contemporary color sensibilities. Cy approves. Dancers? Those eight also have two won in their midst, so, yeah. Probably dancers and maybe also singers.
"Why are you so interested in musicians?" - Lily-Anne inquires, suddenly popping up next to - "They're not spies, I hope?"
I shrug - "They appear to be more put together then I expected. When Taras said they're troubadours, I assud they're all solo perforrs, but this looks like a well-shing troupe. I wouldn't be surprised if they can set up a traveling carnival all by themselves."
"They can." - Lily-Anne confirms with a titter - "Or at least I was assured that they can and often do that much during sumr."
I shrug again - "So they can. Care for a dance?"
"...I'd love to, but I have never learned any krainian dances." - she admits. I snicker and gesture out where another instance of is languidly whirling around with pink-faced Bridgit - "I have a distinct notion that krainian dances are more freestyle then you are used to. Go where the music tells you, and if it ever stops being clear enough, grab a glass of vodka to rinse your mind off." I pause as I think about what I just said, and quickly and - "But about the glass, please not really. You're a teetotaler, a glass of vodka will make you hurl then pass out. Go for the red glasses, they're cut with juice for us discerning wonfolk, as Taras put it."
It goes without saying that by the end of the night, the only one of my wives still stable on her feet is Moon Unit. And that is in no small part because after a second glass, she pivoted from alcohol to very blatant flirting. In fact, Tekeli-Li was just uttered and so she is being swiftly carried off towards the airship among the wolf-whistles and catcalls from the people partying it up. I exchange glances with other three wives, and their respective instances of grab them up in princess carry and hurry along. The catcalls intensify... and take on sowhat awed "daum you playa" vibe.
Announcent I am terribly sorry for this... unwanted hiatus. Hopefully, I got over it and will be able to start posting semi-regularly again.
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