Chapter 63: Gambling on the National Destiny (Part )
"What happened?"

Quincy jumped up and down and cursed, "Do you know what timing is? We were supposed to raid in the early morning, but it's almost noon now."

"It's because you insisted on taking the small mud ditch, saying that you wanted to catch them by surprise. Otherwise, how could the carriage get stuck in the mud?"

Someone murmured softly.

Quincy turned his head 210 degrees and looked in the direction of the voice: "Who, who is talking."

As far as Quincy could see, there were only a group of night watchmen fanning themselves with leaves and wood chips.

They opened the front of their clothes, revealing their hairy chests, and sat crookedly on stones, dead trees or wooden stakes by the roadside.

Faced with Quincy's stare, they were either confused or acted indifferent.

Quincy withdrew his gaze with hatred and continued to watch the sweaty farmers repairing the carriage.

At this moment, about a mile in front of the small mud ditch slope, ten large trucks were blocking the middle of the road.

Three of the large trucks had their axles broken in the mud and bumps, their wheels stuck in the mud, and they had to stop on the side of the road.

But Quincy could not abandon these goods. After the flood, the Thousand River Valley was full of bandits and even robber knights.

If I take away the flag of Archbishop Barniforth, who knows what will come after me.

The sun was so blazing that it made people feel uneasy, and even their sweat-soaked hair reflected the sunlight.

A few fat, sturdy horses kept snorting and using their tails to irritably drive away the flies flying back and forth.

The serf soldiers leaned against each other in groups of three or four, leaning on the wooden sticks in their hands, or simply sitting on the mud, catching lice for each other.

Only the twenty or so armored soldiers sat on the small stools they carried with them, carefully sharpening their swords with whetstones.

Just like the night watch guards, they were also cursing.

Looking at the sun hanging high in the sky, Quincy rolled the whip in his hand into a disc shape and kept fanning himself.

No matter how he fanned, he couldn't dispel the anxiety in his heart.

Especially when he saw Bonard and Sissi, the adulterous couple, being affectionate with each other, he felt a fire rising in his heart.

When he asked someone to check the axles, he found that they seemed to have been damaged.

Although there was no evidence to prove that it was Sissi who did it, Quincy's intuition told him that it was Sissi.

It was because she caused trouble in the morning and insisted on checking the goods in the carriage that Quincy was delayed by one candle time (1 hour) before setting off.

Fearing that the secret party would run away after waiting for too long, Quincy urged the carriage to go faster, which caused the axle to break and delayed the carriage by nearly half a candle's time.

According to Quincy's idea, they should have set out normally, arrived normally, and then encountered an enemy attack.

Our side was injured and defeated, but we took the lining (the share of the goods).

Quincy himself fought back, charged into the camp, beheaded more than ten people, won a great victory, and saved face.

In this way, some of our own people were injured in order to protect the goods. The reason for the initial failure was because we were ambushed and caught off guard, and we were able to turn the tide.

It has both the appearance and the substance, it is quite perfect.

But what he didn't expect was that the two issues of checking the cargo and the broken axle made him late for an unknown amount of time.

You know, the secret parties are very sensitive to time because they have to act in secret and are often betrayed.

At the first sign of trouble, they would flee.

If they wait too long and nothing comes, they might think that Quincy has tricked them and is going to take the back road to their hometown.

What makes Quincy most helpless is that his ancestors have actually done this kind of thing.

In the minds of the secret party, the church's credibility has been completely destroyed time and time again in incidents like this.

In order to reassure them, Quincy sent his trusted confidant Pico to deliver the message again.

If they run away, call them back quickly.

Quincy stood on a wooden stake half a person's height, ignoring the glare of the scorching sun, waiting for Pico's figure like a husband-waiting stone.

"Captain Quincy, why don't we go first?" Sissi walked out from the side, holding up the feather fan, "Let's put these goods aside and leave a team of armored soldiers and a few of my guards to guard them."

Sweat oozed from Quincy's forehead: "Haha, how can I put you in danger if I don't go?"

"How can my small amount of goods be compared with the destruction of the secret party?" "You neither advance nor retreat, what on earth do you want to do? The bishop has entrusted you with such an important task, and this is how you treat it?" Bonard on the side chimed in.

Quincy gritted his teeth, glanced at Bonard, and forced a smile: "If I leave you here, what if we encounter robbers and bandits?"

"I'll go with you. These rebels are just a mob. Can't you take them down?"

"But you see, there are bandits everywhere now. If we leave, who will look after these goods?"

"Just a few truckloads of goods are nothing to our Magde Chamber of Commerce." Sissi covered her mouth with a feather fan. "Our Chamber of Commerce has always been committed to our Lord's cause. If you want to wipe out the secret party, my mistress Catherine is absolutely willing to compensate you for your losses, 20% higher than the market price."

Damn, these goods can be sold at a 100% or even 90% premium on the black market!

Quincy's face looked even uglier.

"Are you afraid of the rebels? You have to know that you are fighting under the banner of our Archbishop Barnifors." Bonard sneered.

Being blocked from both sides by Bonard and Sissi, Quincy's face gradually turned pale: "Well, swords have no eyes on the battlefield, you two must be careful."

"Are you threatening me?" Bonard was furious, but Sissi beside him held his arm.

Sissi lifted her skirt gracefully and said, "Don't worry, Brother Bonard will protect me, right?"

"Of course." Bonard raised his head. "I will report today's events to Bishop Barnifors."

Quincy, who was full of anger, ignored the two men, rushed into the serf soldiers and started to fight.

"Get up, you lazy dogs, you worthless things, get up, it's time to set off."

The horse whips were swung, leaving afterimages and pulling out strips of flesh and blood. The serf soldiers crawled up with feces, urine, blood and tears all the same color, and stood up trembling.

With a stern face, Quincy stood on the top of a carriage and shouted loudly: "Tisqui, you take half of the armored soldiers and stay behind to untie the reins of the carriage. The rest of you, follow me to suppress the bandits."

Jumping off the carriage, he looked up at the sky and found that it was about a candle and a half later than the scheduled time.

I prayed silently in my heart that those secret party members would have more patience and courage, and not run away when they couldn't see anyone.

If they have already run away, I hope Pico can move quickly and call them back or re-arrange their location.

Half of the team and a dozen serf soldiers were left behind, and the rest lined up and ran towards the small mud ditch.

The scorching sun made everyone who were walking sweat profusely, especially on this muddy slope.

The soldiers complained while using their weapons to drive away mosquitoes and flies. Mud, broken leaves, and fermented animal carcasses splashed all over the soldiers.

As he got closer and closer to the fence wall of the small mud ditch, Quincy's heart sank more and more. Even at this point, the expected ambush had not yet happened.

Just as he was getting anxious, he saw Pico, who had gone to inform the Gulag Monastery, sneaking out from the bushes.

Pulling Pico into the dark, Quincy asked in a low voice: "What's going on? Where are they? Have they escaped? They can come out now."

Facing Quincy's barrage of questions, Pico was sweating and out of breath: "You, why did you move in advance?"

"It was my cousin Xixi who did it. I was also afraid that they would run away. Please tell me what happened."

"Oh no." Pico slapped his thigh and stamped his feet. "What did you mean they ran away? They haven't arrived yet!"

"You, say that again?!"

Quincy thought he was more than an hour late, which was long enough.

But he never expected that those secret party members would be two hours late.

Isn’t it said that the secret party has a good sense of time?

"What should we do? We are almost past the designated ambush site, and I can't order them to rest."

Quincy lowered his voice and said, "I suspect that Sissi and Bonard have discovered our deal with the secret party. We must not let it get out. Or you can go and inform them to change the ambush location?"

Pico smiled bitterly and said, "It's too late. You still have a secret party. The timing is perfect."

"Uuuuuu——"

The horn sounded, accompanied by shouts and footsteps.

"Rebels spotted! Rebels spotted!"

(End of this chapter)