My British Empire

"That's very good! Mr. Wallace! You've done a good job!" Baron Vitelli Olizard affirmed with a full face, obviously very satisfied with the work of the magistrate.

"These are the results of the joint efforts of all the adults, and I only have a little credit!" Sir Wallace was very happy to be praised, but he did not show off in his words.

Then Sir Wallace accompanied the Minister to inspect the storage of military rations.

In Hampshire, Southampton, the village of Alok, thirty miles from the city, got its name from the village of freedmen because of its proximity to the River Alok.

Freemen are also called public book holders, which means that they own their own fields, have independent personal freedom, and have no attachment relationship.

In fact, the preservation of this village was due to Henry VIII's promulgation of some decrees restricting land enclosures, which made the nobles and local gentlemen throw their hands at the mouse, and the enclosure behavior eased a lot.

As a freeman with three acres of land, Pudd felt very happy. Although the food he planted was not enough for his family, the animals he caught every day, who was good at archery, were enough to make up for his family.

Pudd couldn't help thanking the environment in which he was born. There was no noble territory near the Alok village where he lived. The nearest knight territory was more than 20 miles away, and it would take a day to get there.

Therefore, the forest near his village nominally belongs to His Majesty the King. But how did the king know that his forest would be hunted? It would be better to expect a sow to climb a tree than to expect the nobles staying in the castle to report!

There is a saying, the sky is high and the emperor is far away, that is the truth.

The glare of the sun at noon could not penetrate the thick poplar leaves, only a ray of light could barely pass through the gaps in the leaves, and came to Pude's face, bringing a little warmth.

Pudd didn't pay attention to this, standing with his legs bent, his eyes staring straight ahead twenty feet away, a bull elk lowered his head, vigilantly eating the young leaves on the branches, with four slender legs in a posture of running at any time.

And Pude is covered with folded branches, perfectly concealing himself in the bushes, with one arm holding the bow and the other hand pulling the bow string, his eyes are closely following the elk, ready to move.

It may not have seen danger for a long time, and the small bites did not fill their stomachs. The big elk slowly lowered its head and gorged on the delicious food in front of it, but Pude hadn't acted yet.

Time passed like running water, and the bull elk's belly swelled unknowingly, and his vigilance reached the lowest level, but Pude seized the time to act at this time.

"Whoosh—" Pude's right hand was released suddenly, and the wooden arrow on the bowstring immediately shot at the buck. The buck seemed to be aware of it and moved a step to the right, but unfortunately it was too late, although the wooden arrow missed it. The fatal part, but shot its left hind leg.

Pudd ran quickly from the bushes and ran to the wounded buck. Regardless of the injury, the buck hurriedly ran towards the direction it came from, but it couldn't run very far after being injured. After being chased by Pude for less than a mile, the buck fell to the ground. Obviously, the consequences of excessive blood loss were very serious. .

Purdue looked at the buck lying on the ground, ignored its begging eyes, and decisively killed it with the dagger he captured from the battlefield, without any muddling.

As a veteran who had joined the army five times, Pudd's hands were very strong, so the buck died without pain.

Using a few branches to form a well-shaped shape horizontally and vertically, and then taking a few tree vines to fix the buck on it, using a thick rattan as a rope, Pude dragged it back home like this.

The villagers along the way were used to this scene, so Pude greeted them smoothly and returned to his home.

Everyone admires this man who has participated in the army five times and is also the strongest shooter in the village. After all, which family has not received a few pieces of meat from him?

Pushing open the wooden door of the house, Pud saw his former centurion and now the captain of the Yorkshire Sheriff—Wood Legolas.

"Master Centurion! Why are you here!" Pudd asked curiously.

"My Purdue, the most powerful shooter, I need you!" Wood pretended not to see the buck in Pudd's hand, and greeted him happily.

"Say it! My lord centurion! I've been very busy recently!" For this greedy centurion, Pude didn't like or dislike him.

"The Duke of Somerset of London has issued a summons, and you are going to battle again!"

"You should follow me this time! I only want three layers of loot for you to capture this time!" Wood gritted his teeth and said, but his heart was bleeding. As the second son of a jazz, he has very little property of his own, and is preparing to rely on war to earn extra money, and this time he lost a lot.

But this time, if he earns some more military exploits, he can be named a knight. Although he is a knight without a fief, his status is completely different.

"Okay! I hope you keep your promise!" Seeing the bleeding from the greedy guy in front of him, Pude agreed happily.

Like Purdue, a large number of militiamen were called up and slowly flowed into York City like a stream. Soon, by August 10th, nearly 15,000 people had gathered in York's barracks.

At this time, Scotland, Edinburgh also issued a summons.

Unfortunately, the Knight of Gaussell sent by the Regent is going to the residence of the barbarians - the Scottish Highlands.

The Knight of Gossell looked at the endless highlands. It was not like the endless forests on the lowlands of Edinburgh, nor was it a lonely desert, but was covered by soothing undulating low green grass and moss.

The low, sparse vegetation grew bleakly, not at all like the verdant green of the English fields. The exposed rocks and the clear air always remind you that this is a plateau on the island.

Even in summer, when the wilderness is covered with small purple flowers called heather, the earth lacks a kind of vitality. The boundless purple is too dazzling and stubborn, different from the brilliant splendor of mountain flowers, but a kind of full bloom that is almost desperate. This is a lonely land, which was regarded as a barren land many years ago, and no matter how magnificent and beautiful the scenery is, it cannot replace the barrenness of the land.

Clan Macdonald (also known as Clan Donald, ClanDonald) is one of the largest and oldest clans in the Scottish Highlands. As early as the 13th century AD, the lords of the Donald family established Fort Feragran on the shores of Lake Feragran in Isle of Islay (IsleofIslay). Throughout the 14th and 15th centuries, the Macdonald clan was the most powerful tribe in Scotland, ruling the entire valley region of western Scotland and the surrounding islands, known as the "Lord of the Isles" (Lord of the Isles).

Thank you: lp001735, love and sorrow, gynecological little warm man, Legolas~Windwalker, 56-legged hairy brother, Prussian nobleman, book friend Xuan, the cute Hengheng.

That, shameless little begging for a recommendation ticket!