The First Border Patrol Officer

In the center of Besançon, at the Court of Marquis Ivrea, the ruler of Burgundy County, Abbot Olof from Lucerne was discussing a topic with the Minister of Public Security in his office.

"That's how it is. The entire southern border is in chaos. Many of our churches and Monasteries are being harassed by hungry refugees and bandits. We truly need such brave warriors to guard our border for us," Abbot Olof said, leaning back in his armchair and staring at the Minister of Public Security.

The Minister of Public Security listened quietly, pondering. The constant security alerts from the southern border had been a headache for him recently. The castles and villages along the southern border were all struggling to cope, and the lords and municipal officials could only try their best to maintain basic stability in their jurisdictions. As the war at the southern tip of the continent spread, a large number of refugees fled north, and the security pressure on Burgundy's southern border grew increasingly intense.

"Your Excellency, that Art you mentioned..."

"Art Wood Wells."

"Right, that Art. What is his background?" the Minister of Public Security asked.

"His father was once my guard when I was with the army in Holy Jerusalem. He himself participated in the Holy War with his father and is a saint and an excellent Saint Order officer," Abbot Olof replied.

The Minister of Public Security rubbed his head, which had only a few strands of hair left, and said to Abbot Olof, "Setting up a border public security Patrol Officer in Tinietz County might be feasible, but the Court cannot allocate funds now. It can only rely on local lords and castles to raise their own funds, and the Prime Minister will need to be persuaded." He paused, picked up the silver goblet on the table, took a small sip, and glanced at Abbot Olof's sleeve.

Abbot Olof understood, beckoned to his personal guard standing by, and the guard walked over, pulled a leather purse from his bosom, and gently placed it on the table in front of the Minister of Public Security.

The Minister of Public Security put down his goblet, lightly pinched the purse, weighed it, and smiled slightly, saying, "Today, the Prime Minister accompanied the Marquis to meet the envoy from Provence. I will report this matter to the Prime Minister tomorrow. Your Excellency, please wait a few days, and I will send someone to deliver the appointment letter to Lucerne then."

"Master, does this Patrol Officer have a noble title?"

"No."

"Will the higher-ups assign Soldiers to the Patrol Team?"

"We'll probably have to recruit them ourselves."

"Then surely they'll provide money and food, right?"

"Possibly, but the hope is very small."

The two exchanged questions and answers; the questioner's face grew increasingly grim, while the answerer remained calm.

Roan was extremely puzzled by Master Art's decision to exchange 150 silver fenny for a nominal Patrol Officer. In his eyes, 150 small silver fenny would be enough for his entire family's food, clothing, and expenses for four years.

"Roan, you'll understand later. Now, you should continue practicing your swordsmanship." Art didn't bother to talk more with Roan, tapped Roan's shoulder with the wooden stick in his hand, and walked towards the inn's backyard.

Roan reluctantly followed, dragging his short wooden stick. During these days of waiting for news, Roan had often been hit by Art's stick. Although he was beaten every day, Roan's swordsmanship didn't make much progress. Art also knew that it was unlikely for Roan to learn advanced swordsmanship, so he only taught him the most basic footwork, sword stances, and several offensive and defensive sword techniques like chopping, slashing, thrusting, and parrying.

Time passed quickly amidst the clanging sounds of striking and the dull thuds of sticks hitting flesh.

Early on the tenth day, Art took Roan on horseback to the entrance of the Monastery. After waiting for the time it takes to eat a meal, Art was led by a guard into the Abbot's office.

Abbot Olof, dressed in a long white robe, girt with a holy sash, wearing a tie, and with a gilded cross hanging on his chest, had just returned from morning prayers. He gestured for Art to come over. Art stepped forward, knelt, and kissed the Abbot's ring of authority.

Abbot Olof, with a kind smile, motioned for Art to sit beside him.

"Art, you have fulfilled your mission. Your appointment letter has arrived." Saying this, Abbot Olof picked up a scroll of parchment tied with a dark red ribbon from his desk and handed it to Art. Art took it with both hands and gently unrolled it.

At the top center of the parchment was written "Appointment Letter," and below it were several lines of elegant Latin script written with a quill pen:

"Due to the many disturbances in the southern territory, the instability of the border, the proliferation of unruly people, and the rise of bandits. For the stability of the national border and the prosperity of the people, Art Wood Wells is hereby appointed as the Border Public Security Patrol Officer (Patrol Officer), to oversee the border patrols in southern Tinietz County, apprehend thieves, resist mountain barbarians, maintain peace and order, and act as he deems appropriate."

In the bottom right corner were the signature and seal of the Minister of Public Security of Burgundy Earl.

Art looked at these words transcribed by the Court scribes, and he couldn't help but feel a little excited. With this piece of paper, he would have an official identity.

"Art, along with the appointment letter came a private letter from the Minister of Public Security. He told me in the letter that the Prime Minister agreed to the suggestion of establishing a Public Security Patrol Officer in the southern border of the Earl, and that Patrol Officers have been set up in the four border counties along the southern border. The Patrol Officer is a temporary position, nominally under the jurisdiction of the Court Minister of Public Security, and will be reported to the Minister of Public Security after its establishment is complete. However, the establishment and supply of the Patrol Team must be the responsibility of the local county castles and villages, and the Minister of Public Security has already issued an order to the towns and villages along the southern border to provide support to the Patrol Officer. But I feel that those fellows in the southern territory will not heed this soft command. Furthermore, the 'act as he deems appropriate' in the appointment letter seems to give the Patrol Officer great freedom and authority, but in reality, it tells the Patrol Officers to provide their own supplies, raise their own personnel and equipment..." Abbot Olof expressed deep concern for Art's impending role as Border Public Security Patrol Officer.

"Child, that's the situation. Also, I have a private letter here for Viscount Pierre. The letter tells him that you are the son of my old friend, and asks him to give you much care. However, my personal relationship with Viscount Pierre is very shallow, so I don't know how much effect this letter will have." Abbot Olof then pulled another sealed letter from the table and handed it to Art...

Art, having received his appointment document, bid farewell to Abbot Olof and turned to leave the Monastery.

Seeing Art leave the Monastery, Roan, leading the mule, quickly stepped forward and asked, "Master, has your appointment letter been issued?"

Art nodded.

"That's great! Now you are a Patrol Officer!" Roan was genuinely happy.

"Roan, we can't be happy too soon. Things are exactly as I expected; the Court only gave us an empty shell of a Patrol Officer position," Art said calmly, as the outcome was within his expectations, and he needed this empty shell now.

The purpose of their journey north had been achieved, and Art and Roan began to prepare for their return trip.

After lunch, Roan pushed open Art's door.

"Master, I've found the grain store you asked me to find. I asked the passing caravans, and the grain in the southern towns is more expensive than in Lucerne. I searched all the grain stores, large and small, in Lucerne, comparing prices one by one, and found that a grain store in the west of the city had the cheapest rye and barley. Hulled rye was five fenny per pound, and barley was four fenny per pound, but they were all old grains. A grain store in the south of the city had the cheapest wheat; if you buy in large quantities, you can get three pounds for one fenny," Roan reported his findings from the past few days to Art.

Art tapped the small wooden table in the room with his fingers, deep in thought.

When he left the Valley Land, he took all his money. After deducting 150 small silver fenny for Abbot Olof and the expenses for their travel, accommodation, and mule feed, Art's money pouch still contained twenty-nine large silver marks, three small silver shillings, some loose fenny, and various small copper coins, totaling approximately 4,300 fenny.

He planned to first recruit a dozen refugee households from the south to reclaim and cultivate land in the Valley Land. After the land reclamation and cultivation arrangements were properly made, he would then proceed to form the border Patrol Team.

According to Art's plan, the initially recruited refugees would need a month's worth of winter food supply. After the cold winter, Cooper and Scott would then purchase enough provisions to last until the harvest season of the reclaimed land. The initial winter food supply, calculated for ten refugee households, three people per household, and one pound of grain per person per day, would require over 1,300 pounds. More food would be needed later. Art concluded that the further south they went, the more expensive grain would be, and the grain prices in Lucerne should be very cheap, so he asked Roan to inquire in the city, intending to buy a batch of grain to take back to the Valley Land.

"Roan, did you find the carriage I asked you to find?" Art looked up and asked.

Roan scratched his head and replied, "Master, I did look, but the prices are too high. A new single-shaft, side-paneled two-wheeled carriage at the carriage shop costs 600 fenny, and a four-wheeled wooden freight wagon is as high as 1,000 fenny. Custom-making one at a carpenter's shop would be cheaper, but it would take at least a month. I also asked at the merchant warehouses; their carriages are either not for sale or are very expensive."

"You've done very well. In a little while, we'll go check out the Hvorof Cathedral construction site. I remember there are several abandoned carriages there; perhaps we can buy them and ask a carpenter to repair them. You go find a carpenter and ask him to come to the Cathedral construction site. I'll go ahead and take a look," Art said after a moment of thought.

The two left the inn, each going their separate ways to busy themselves.