The captain was pleasantly surprised that Norn had actually raised the price, but he still gritted his teeth and said, "Sir, could you possibly advance us a month's pay?"
"That's not the way it's done, mercenaries!" Patrick interjected sternly.
"Respected sir, I know it's not the norm, but we need to gather some travel money for our elderly fellow countrymen to get home," the captain replied anxiously.
"Of course, I understand your situation. We'll prove we're worth the price!" The captain's eyes flashed with determination. "We're ready to storm a castle tomorrow if you say so!"
Norn watched these mercenaries, who looked more like beggars or farmers, with interest. He waved to Patrick and took a purse from him.
The jingling of coins as they rolled from the purse onto the table immediately silenced the previously noisy tavern. The magic of money had taken effect.
Norn picked up a silver coin and let it slip through his fingers. He noticed the captain's eyes held a desire for wealth, but it wasn't the greed he saw in other mercenaries.
Suddenly, he thought of something and asked, "What's your name, Captain?"
"Hammo, sir."
"Well, Captain Hammo, how do you plan to prove your loyalty and capability?" Norn smiled, looking at the somewhat embarrassed captain, then jumped onto the table and shouted to the crowd in the hall:
"Brave warriors, lend me your ears." All eyes immediately focused on Norn.
"Since we've had the fortune to meet today, let's play a game," Norn said, tossing the purse high into the air. The crisp sound of silver coins rang out.
"If any of you brave warriors can break through my men and stand before me, these 150 silver denarii are yours!"
"But if no one does, then the purse goes to my men!"
Everyone in the room was taken aback, not expecting Norn to suddenly announce such a game. But some quick-thinking mercenaries immediately grabbed their stools and started attacking Hammo's group.
"Protect the lord!" Hammo finally reacted, and his men quickly surrounded Norn.
For a moment, the tavern was in chaos, with stools and wooden cups flying, food and drink splashing everywhere, and people of all sorts grappling with each other. Patrick stood cautiously in front of Norn, making sure nothing or no one flew their way.
But everyone in the room realized Norn was a big spender and were very considerate to avoid the table where Norn was. Even if someone threw something, they aimed it elsewhere.
"Sir..." The tavern owner looked at Norn pitifully, "The... tables."
Before the owner could finish, Norn took out five gold nomismata and handed them to the owner, "Sorry about breaking your stuff. This should cover it, right?"
"More than enough, sir! Smash away! If it's not enough, just let me know!" The owner's eyes were almost blinded by the gleam of the gold coins, clutching them tightly as if afraid Norn would change his mind.
Norn waved his hand to dismiss the owner and stood on the table, observing the situation with interest: The mercenaries on both sides were roughly equal in number. On the surface, compared to Hammo's men, the other mercenaries seemed better equipped and stronger. But in the actual fight, they were deadlocked.
The other mercenaries were multiple small groups fighting independently, and they would often start fighting among themselves due to friction. Hammo's group, on the other hand, relied on their numerical advantage, always staying close to Norn. Whenever someone attacked, twice as many of them would rush over to quickly resolve the fight.
By the time the other mercenaries realized this problem, they had already lost a third of their men. Looking at Hammo's numerous men, they gave up their internal struggles and began to join forces to attack Hammo's wall of men.
"Hold steady!" Captain Hammo stood in the front row, encouraging his men.
They were like a fortress in a storm, standing firm. The front row fought fiercely. Although they were not as strong as the opponents, they were very resilient. Even after taking several heavy punches, they would create opportunities for their teammates in the back row.
The second row of teammates also seized the opportunity to strike fatal blows at the opponents. If they saw their front-row teammates struggling, they would actively step in to replace them.
Neither the cunning attacks of the Turcoman nomads nor the various underhanded tactics of the Genovese could break through Hammo's wall of men.
Even the northern giant, after knocking down four of Hammo's mercenaries in a row, was eventually tackled and surrounded by a crowd who beat him into submission.
In the end, the floor was littered with groaning mercenaries, while Hammo's men supported each other as they walked up to Norn.
"Well done! This afternoon, bring your gear to my estate," Norn tossed the purse into the captain's arms.
Then Norn took out another purse, "Brave warriors, your bravery has left a deep impression on me. Here are 100 silver denarii for a drink!" With that, he left amidst a chorus of cheers.
In the afternoon, as expected, Hammo and his men, with bruised faces, arrived at the estate. Just as Norn had predicted, their equipment was very rudimentary.
Apart from Hammo, who had a short sword, the rest only had spears. Although they were well-maintained, it was clear they were old.
"You hired a bunch of 'beggars'?" William scornfully indicated that he could charge in on horseback and scatter the opposition.
Faced with William's mockery, Hammo and his men didn't react, just standing as usual.
Norn stepped forward, and Hammo quickly bowed his head.
"Captain Hammo, this is a one-year employment contract. You can take it to a priest to review before putting your mark on it."
"No need, sir. You are so generous; you would never deceive us!" Hammo pressed his mark onto the scroll without hesitation.
"Uncle William, Captain Hammo and his men are in your hands now. Besides the estate's daily defense, train them to the point where you can't break them!"
William slapped his chest and said it was no problem.
Hammo's mercenaries were divided into two groups, one responsible for the daily security of the estate, and the other undergoing training by William.
William's training was pretty straightforward. Either he would charge at them like a cannonball, or he would ride around the formation, throwing clumps of mud at the group.
Seeing Hammo's men getting bruised every day, Norn couldn't help but worry, "Is this kind of training okay?"
"It's already much better!" Hammo explained beside him.
"The lord pays well and feeds us well. Everyone cherishes this opportunity! And the chance to be trained by a knight is rare."
"What about your previous training?" Norn asked curiously. "I saw you had some method when you were fighting before."
"We're poor mountain folk. We often fight with other villages over water sources and fight for our lord every year. Over time, we picked up a bit," Hammo seemed to reminisce about his past, sighing. "Later, when the village couldn't make it anymore, I brought my fellow villagers out to make a living."
"No worries! Following me, I can't promise much, but the pay will definitely be there!" Norn generously assured them.
"Thank you for your kindness," Hammo bowed again.
"However, this training method could probably use some improvement!" Norn looked at the small group thoughtfully.
The next day, all the mercenaries in training had a piece of woolen thread tied to their left hand. Norn stood in front of the crowd and shouted, "Listen up, everyone. The one with the thread is on the left. On my command, turn left!"
A few confused souls still turned the wrong way, but they quickly corrected themselves under Captain Hammo's stick.
"What's the point of this?" William asked curiously.
"You'll see," Norn said mysteriously, then continued to direct his men.
"Second row, turn right."
The second row of soldiers were initially a bit bewildered when they heard the order, but under Captain Hammo's stick, they quickly reacted and turned right one by one, forming a small column.
"Right turn and march!"
The little column began to move awkwardly to the right.
"Halt, turn left!"
The little column turned back into a small row, blocking the right side of the formation.
"This is something!" William slapped Norn on the shoulder, laughing and asking, "Where did you pick this up from?"
"Roman military tactics. It says the Romans did it this way," Norn lied without a hint of guilt.