aircannonsinc Chapter 58 A Bloody Establishment of Authority
Chapter 58 A Bloody Establishment of Authority
After the drill, the veterans gathered together.
"Tsk, this kid's training's pretty good! Not bad at all!" Old Tom grinned, taking a swig of water. "Not bad, the only thing missing now is a real fight, to let them see blood, to kill some people!"
"Redhead" Calvin patted Old Tom hard on the shoulder, making him stumble: "Haha! Old Tom, you got what you deserved, didn't you? If it weren't for me and Leon leading the brothers to back you up, your small group would probably have been wiped out by that kid Tiberius today! But seriously..."
He suppressed his smile and looked in the direction where Tiberius was assembling his troops, his gaze becoming more serious.
"His wagon corps changed formation quickly enough that once the framework was set up, the cavalry would have to face their spears and crossbows if they tried to break through! His tactic was indeed effective."
"The wagon battalion, along with the spearmen and his heavy shield crossbowmen, can indeed withstand the cavalry charge like a tortoise! When we return to the White Legion, we can discuss this idea with Chief Jules."
Old Tom grimaced as he was slapped, but didn't argue. He just muttered, "Damn, who knew he'd improve so fast... Just two weeks ago he was a complete mess, and now he can hold his own against us! This kid's training methods are really a bit unorthodox."
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"You all did a great job today." That afternoon, Tiberius gathered the members of the Lightning Legion together and gave them an encouraging speech, then had the quartermaster distribute rewards to them.
The reward was half a bag of rice, a bottle of olive oil or a bottle of wine for each person, and those who made a contribution would be rewarded with a handful of copper coins, usually three to eight copper coins.
This was Tiberius's strategy: he hoped these people would become accustomed to reporting their achievements and receiving rewards, thus closely linking "hard training and obedience" with "receiving benefits," thereby creating a "positive feedback loop."
He hoped to gradually cultivate their dependence on and loyalty to the legion, especially to Tiberius personally, through this method.
However, Tiberius frowned as he watched the quartermaster distribute the rewards.
Why is there no joy or happiness on their faces? Tiberius saw that after the soldiers received their rewards, they were not as cheerful as before, but rather the atmosphere was rather somber, as if they did not care about the rewards.
This positive feedback doesn't seem to be yielding any results!
"Could it be that I've spoiled their palates?" Tiberius wondered.
That won't do! If things continue like this, they'll become like the Praetorian Guard of the Eastern Roman Empire, or the Osmani Nicéri, or even just pure military men like the Weibo soldiers!
These soldiers were initially elite, but later, as their basic material needs could no longer be met, they kept demanding more, eventually becoming too powerful to control and turning into a whole host of troublemakers.
Tiberius didn't want these soldiers to become like that kind of tumor.
"No, we must find out why." Tiberius made up his mind.
He didn't put on airs of superiority, but asked in a relatively easygoing tone, "I noticed that everyone seems a little unhappy about receiving their rewards today? Is it because you feel the rewards are too little? Or is there some other reason? Tell me, just be honest. After all, we're all part of the Lightning Squad, so let's speak our minds."
To Tiberius's disappointment, the soldiers either remained silent or gave evasive responses.
"Everything is fine, sir!"
"Yes, sir, we were just..." A soldier started to say something, but then stopped himself from speaking. "...A little tired, sir, yes, tired."
[It seems there really is a problem!] This abnormal silence and evasiveness made Tiberius even more certain that a problem did exist, and that he was being suppressed by some kind of fear.
[But what do they have to fear?] Tiberius thought to himself with considerable dissatisfaction.
Food? I allocated rice and meat according to the number of people in their family.
Money? I was paid three-fifths of the White Legion's daily wage, which is quite generous!
The White Legion won't provide food for your family. A mercenary's entire family (if they have any) and his own daily expenses depend on the small amount of money he receives each day or week.
Status? No, buddy, you're a slave! Aren't the treatment I'm giving you now good enough?
After Tiberius finished his speech, he summoned the light infantrymen who were born free men to his tent.
"Gentlemen, you are newcomers, and I trust you all." Tiberius looked at the light infantrymen carrying longbows, darts, and halberds and short axes, tapped his fingers on the table, and asked in a deep voice.
"What exactly went wrong? I hope you will all tell me honestly. Don't worry, speak freely!"
As the Freeman light infantryman recounts his story, an infuriating truth gradually emerges:
The extra food and meager copper coins distributed to the families of slave soldiers every Sunday were largely reclaimed the following day by the old stewards and overseers of the plantation under various pretexts—such as "storage fees," "land rent," and "damage compensation"!
Sometimes, it's even outright "tribute"!
The little bit of extra comfort that the soldiers earned for their families by shedding blood and sweat and striving for excellence on the training ground, as well as the money and food that Tiberius himself took from the treasury and granaries, returned to the steward's purse in a way that angered Tiberius.
According to the light infantrymen, sometimes their comrades would just return from the camp, and the person in charge would be waiting at their doorstep to collect their money.
"Why didn't they tell me!" Tiberius was unusually furious, the veins on his hands bulging, his anger almost palpable.
"Those managers are nothing but my slaves! They deserve to be whipped by me. How dare they touch my people's things?"
A hunter, mustering his courage, stepped forward and said, "Chief Tiberius, let me say something common, and I hope it won't offend your ears: there's a saying, 'A lord's command is no match for a few cracks of the foreman's whip.'"
"Our fellow slaves also want to tell you this, but what happens after you punish those supervisors? They'll only exploit them even more!"
"Besides, the soldiers usually live in the barracks and can only go home on Sundays. What do they do during this extra free time if the officer in charge picks a fight or something happens at home? They can't go out, and they can't seek justice from anyone, so they can only endure it!"
"We are free men, and the officials in charge don't dare to target us much. Besides, we have many male family members. How could the officials dare to make things difficult for us? But our colleagues are nothing but slaves. Their wives and children still have to work on the plantation, right? Give them more food and copper coins to the officials, and their wives won't be assigned to heavy work. They can grind wheat in the mill, dry rice on the flat ground, and won't be harassed when drying wheat..."
"Besides, you're kind-hearted enough to buy their family back as well, so they can stay on the estate and avoid the pain of separation. But even so, most of the men in their family are just him, maybe with a half-grown boy. If the person in charge brings a few thugs, what can be done? They'll have no choice but to give in."
Tiberius's eyes sharpened.
This matter must be dealt with! And it must be done quickly, ruthlessly, and thoroughly.
Otherwise, the reason why the lightning squad he led was not because he didn't train enough or put in enough effort, but because someone used this method to undermine his foundation.
What is that?! His goal is to train a group of mercenaries, not to let these managers become fat and bloated!