nyslfriends Chapter 89: The Sword Award
Chapter 89: The Sword Award
The sword-presentation ceremony was scheduled for the following morning.
It wasn't Ron who chose the time; it was Mrs. Moriel.
She said that the sword should be handed out when the sun is just rising, so that the sword's edge can borrow the first ray of light; only then can the knight be the most valiant and fearless.
Mrs. Morrill never disappointed Ron in this regard of ritual.
Ron stood on a high platform on the north side of the training field, with a red flag with a black swastika behind him.
Below the platform stood a row of people. Sanlir stood on the far left, followed by Sasley and Beladon, then Angela and Veronica, then to the right were several boys selected from the militia, and the last row consisted of seven- or eight-year-old boys and girls.
Asadin and Mary stood on the far right of the group, their posture noticeably different from the other apprentices; they exuded more presence.
Shanlier's palms were sweaty. He wiped his hands on his pants again and again, but every time he looked up and saw the sword on the platform, sweat would seep out again.
Today will be a turning point in his life.
Fanta stood before the high platform, clad in full plate armor, and proclaimed: "He who wields the sword, defends the land; he who breaks the covenant, his sword will break; wherever the chivalrous spirit leads, that is territory."
Seeing Mrs. Moriel's signal, Leonardo da Vinci immediately had each apprentice step forward in turn.
Clearly, this kind of ceremony was something these people from the lower classes had never experienced in their lives, so they naturally didn't understand the process and could only watch Mrs. Moriel and wait for her instructions.
The crowd below the platform was eerily quiet, not a sound could be heard.
No one spoke, and even the wind paused for a moment; only the swastika flag at the top of the flagpole fluttered gently in the morning light.
Sanlir was the first to step onto the platform and kneel down on one knee.
Ron took a standard Tang-style sword from Leonardo da Vinci, its blade made of fine steel. Even a master blacksmith could not forge such a fine weapon in less than a month.
These are all high-quality weapons that Ron has been working on late into the night these past few days, and naturally, he gives them first to his own trusted subordinates.
Ron placed the tip of his sword on Sanlil's right shoulder and said, "This sword is given to you, but it can only be sharpened when you are a true knight's apprentice."
Sanlir stood up and took the knife. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only managed to squeeze out, "Thank you, Lord!"
Fanta gave him a light pat on the back of the head to get him back to the group.
Sussley and Belladon stepped forward one after the other. Both of them moved more nimbly than Shanlier. It wasn't that they were more talented, but that they were younger and didn't know what nervousness was.
As Angela and Veronica approached, Mrs. Moriel stood below the platform, her back straighter than usual.
Ron handed them the knives, without making them recite any different oaths just because they were the first female apprentices.
The sword-handling movements were exactly the same: the sword tip touched the right shoulder, with the same force and the same pause.
Asadin was the last to step onto the platform. His sword was not given to him by Ron; he already had his own. He knelt down on one knee with steady movements and without hesitation.
Ron looked down at him and said, "Your father said you could become a full knight at any time."
Asadin raised his head: "I want to wait until after I receive the sword before breaking through. The identity of a knight is not something you break through, it's something you inherit."
Ron placed the tip of his sword on his right shoulder, then on his left, so that both shoulders touched the sword, signifying that he was a knight truly recognized by the lord.
"Those who wield the sword have a duty to defend their land; wherever the lord's sword points, that is the battlefield!"
Asadin immediately responded with his most standard knightly salute ever.
"I swear to follow my lord to the death!"
After the ceremony, Asadin stood on the far right of the apprentices' line.
"Mary Ashwood!"
His sister Mary stood beside him and, after Fanta called out his name, slowly walked onto the stage and knelt on one knee.
After the sword-presentation ceremony, Ron did not announce the end of the ceremony. Instead, he had Fanta call the old ministers present to the front of the platform and then took a stack of parchment from Old Hall.
Mad stood in the first row, still wearing his hunting clothes. He had gone out of town last night to patrol and see if any prey had fallen into the trap.
When Ron called his name, he hesitated for a moment before stepping forward.
"Mad, the captain of the hunting party, has made outstanding contributions in reconnaissance, hunting, and training new recruits since the establishment of the territory. He is too old to undergo knightly training, but his merits cannot be ignored. He is hereby granted a formal knight's allowance, 150 catties of grain per year, and 5 mu of private land."
Ron handed him the parchment, which was stamped with the swastika emblem of the lord's manor.
Mad took the parchment, looked at it for a long time, and finally asked uncertainly, "My lord, may I plant sweet potatoes on these five acres?"
Ron looked at him.
"Yes, you can get the seeds from Tang Enling and ask Tu En for planting techniques. They both know the answers."
As for whether the plants will survive, Ron won't care.
Mad pressed the parchment to his chest and stepped back.
When he returned to the group, the people next to him noticed that his eyes were red, but no one said anything.
Tang En's name was called next. This old agricultural officer had come all the way from the ruins of Wenger Territory to the present day, and every acre of farmland in the territory had calluses on his palms.
His knight's allowance was one level higher than Madbi's, with an annual allowance of 200 jin of grain and 10 mu of private land.
Tang En took the parchment, but instead of looking at the numbers on it, he looked at Ron and said, "My lord, may I use that 10 mu of private land for experimental cultivation? I've only completed half of the drought-resistant breeding of the ground rock potato, and I plan to use it for experiments in ordinary farmland to see if it can survive."
Ron's eyes lit up, and he nodded.
"If you can grow it, you will become the person in the territory who, without the status of a knight, receives the highest knight's allowance."
Tang En nodded gratefully, carefully folded the parchment and tucked it into his bosom, then walked back much faster than usual.
Then came a few veterans who had retired from the first group of followers.
Most of them were past the age to become formal knights, and they carried various old wounds: shoulders pierced by goblin spears, knees cracked from falling from the city wall, and right hands with two fingers severed by a catapult winch.
Ron read out their names and deeds one by one, who guarded which fortress in which battle, who walked how many miles wounded in which transport, and then handed them the parchment one by one.
"Sam, guarding the third crenellation of the north wall, was shot through the right leg by an arrow during the goblin siege, but he persevered until the end of the battle."
Sam, the veteran with a limp right leg, took the parchment, looked down at the numbers on it, then looked up at Ron. His lips trembled a few times, but in the end, he said nothing.
Sam turned around and wiped the corner of his eye with his sleeve, but he wiped too hard and made the corner of his eye even redder.
Their subsidies weren't much; they were all knight apprentices, receiving at most 50 catties of grain per year. But for them now, it was a godsend.
This scene stirred the hearts of the militiamen below.
The annual subsidy of 50 jin of grain is not a one-time payment; as long as the veteran is still alive, he can receive it every year. Of course, once he betrays or commits a crime, he will no longer receive such a subsidy.
This subsidy not only reassured the soldiers but also gave those who were discharged due to injury a stronger sense of belonging to the territory.
They have families, and the stronger these soldiers' sense of belonging, the more their children will identify with the territory. Over time, these people's next generation will become the territory's most loyal supporters.