After the battle, Gwynnis slept for almost a full day. Upon awakening, he found that Baldwin had already commenced the aftermath operations. Everyone who was still alive, injured or not, was enlisted in the post-battle cleanup efforts. They sorted through the dead, dragging bodies out of heaps for identification and arranging them in two lines according to their affiliation. The dead from Targas, whether guards, archers, or conscripted soldiers, were claimed by their kin; while those Hafdans, some barely alive when unearthed, were swiftly dealt with by Gwynnis, without regard to their state – gathered, burned in a large pit at the base of a hill, and then buried.
The next task was to recover spoils of war. The Hafdans, now reduced to ashes and buried, mostly wore animal skins or coarse hemp clothing, most of which were damaged and stained with blood and dust, offering little salvage value. However, their weapons, scattered all around, were worth some money, and Gwynnis had people collect them. It was soon discovered that the Hafdans' weaponry was crudely made; most shields and axe handles were wooden, and even the metal parts were impure and poorly forged. Still, any iron, however substandard, held some value and could be reprocessed.
Gwynnis was particularly interested in the Hafdans' hunting bows. Originating from a tribe accustomed to fishing and hunting, their understanding of bow-making was something Gwynnis aimed to explore, hoping to incorporate useful aspects into the improvement and production of longbows.
After issuing his orders, everyone busied themselves with their tasks, mostly relieved to have survived. However, those who had participated in the defense of the castle were notably somber. Many had lost comrades that night, and there were numerous injuries. The castle's defensive strength was significantly weakened, and few believed they could repel another Hafdan attack.
Where could they go now, including Gwynnis? If they couldn't defend themselves in their safest stronghold, would fleeing to the wilderness make them safer? For many subjects, the land was their lifeblood. Abandoning it out of fear of another Hafdan attack and fleeing southward or elsewhere meant losing the chance to ever return. Without their land, they would be reduced to living at the mercy of others, enslaved for life and for generations to come.
As for Gwynnis, he had his reasons for staying. As the Baron of Targas, fleeing out of fear and abandoning his land and castle could perhaps be temporarily mitigated by relying on relationships with familiar friends or relatives. However, if the land was permanently lost to the Hafdans and could not be reclaimed, what use would his title be? A landless noble was nothing but a joke, no matter where he went.
He even humorously considered the scenario where the land might be reclaimed by the Earl, Duke, or King, and then he shamelessly asking for it back, admitting he had fled in fear when the Hafdans arrived. The audacity of such a request would likely be met with contempt, if not outright punishment.
Therefore, for both the local subjects and Gwynnis, leaving this place was not an option. Unable to flee, they had no choice but to stay and exhaust all means to increase their odds of survival.
Moreover, Gwynnis, gazing at the lush green wheat fields nearby, took a deep breath. He had a premonition that the Hafdans would return.
...
As he had done before, Gwynnis dispatched cavalry to occupy the nearby hills for surveillance, keeping a vigilant watch for any sudden return of the Hafdans. The villagers first cleaned the battlefield, dragging all the bodies out for burning and burial, then returned to their fields to care for the robustly growing wheat sprouts.
It was late April, soon to be May. The tender wheat sprouts, after growing for half a month, were now beginning to form heads. Initially small, they would grow larger over the next month and gradually mature. This period was crucial for the year's wheat harvest.
Ensuring a good growth environment for the black wheat was imperative. Weeding and sufficient watering were necessary. However, curiously, despite many days of neglect due to the siege, the black wheat was still growing beautifully, eliciting astonishment among the villagers. Could it be that this wheat grew on its own without much care?
With such doubts, under Gwynnis's orders, the villagers returned to the castle to start reinforcing its defenses. The recent battle, though devoid of advanced siege weapons from the Hafdans, had caused significant damage to the castle. Arrow barriers were extensively destroyed, the gate was damaged in several places, and the moat was partially filled - all these required immediate attention.
The defenders also began restocking combat materials, such as arrows for long and short bows, levers, logs, catapult stones, and particularly, oil containers. These had played a crucial role in the previous battle. It could be said that without the oil containers to destroy the enemy's siege weapons, the castle would have fallen. Next time, when the Hafdans' siege ladders approached, just pulling them down with levers and hurling a few oil containers, followed by torches, would suffice to render them useless.
However, the castle's prior preparations were insufficient. The stored fats and oils for ignition were almost depleted and difficult to replenish at the moment. Typically, these fats were extracted from livestock, but the Hafdans' raids had left the estate devastated, with cattle and sheep either consumed on the spot or taken away.
Now, where could they find enough animal fat for oil production in such short notice? Should they turn to the forest and send people to hunt? In urgent times, Gwynnis wouldn't mind disrupting the ecological balance, but wild animals were not as easily hunted as domestic livestock - they would run. Even if Gwynnis deployed everyone and used all possible means, how many large animals could they realistically hunt?