The old village chief in his 50s, Brimonda looked up and looked up at the lush old white oak forest (white oak also known as oak), which had been more than 100 years old. He felt excited. He also held a small piece of white oak board in his hand. It was an old white oak model that Brimonda had just displayed to wine merchants from Evora 1 hour ago.

This white oak forest, which has been planted in a hilly area of ​​thousands of hectares for a hundred years, has a long growth cycle, solid wood texture, and a very distinct mountain-shaped wood grain, and has a good texture when touched, which makes the wine merchants who come here very satisfied. The latter immediately spoke, as long as Brimonda can send these old white oak to the (wine) oak barrel processing farm in Evora City. The merchants will buy as much as they have, and they will be settled on the same day.

Brimonda happily estimated in his heart that this batch of white oak alone earned more than 1 million Escudo (Portuguese currency, with a currency value of equivalent to Rial). Although the white oak forests in front of him are all public property in the countryside, he is the head of a village in San Frasisco Village. He was appointed as the company commander of the anti-French guerrillas in the village a month ago.

With caution and careful operation, Brimonda can withhold 500,000 Escudo from the public funds for selling oak. This money should be able to bribe the Lisbon nobles in charge of state affairs, either to get themselves a baron's title or to recommend Lieutenant Tasar, the eldest son who was serving in the Portuguese regular army, to obtain a senior position as colonel leader.

Brimonda, who was dreaming of making money, was awakened by a burst of rapid horse hooves, and someone called his name in his ears. Brimonda looked in the sound unhappy and found that the guy riding on the horse was his nephew Gio. This morning, he commissioned to go to the copper mine in the south of Geoporter to buy a batch of strong black slaves, preparing to cut down the white oak forest in the village. Unexpectedly, a few hours later, the little bastard rushed back. There was no black slave behind him, and only two companions riding horses followed closely. The three people showed panic and nervous look on their faces.

"Is something wrong?" Brimonda's heart sank.

Sure enough, when he was out of breath from his nephew Giona, he realized from intermittent description that it was the French army who came! There were still a large number, with at least 30,000 people, not only infantry, cavalry, but also engineers and artillery.

"Damn it, where did the Frenchman come out?" asked the guerrilla company commander in anger. Just yesterday, his eldest son, Lieutenant Tasar, told himself that the French were still crawling in the area of ​​Extermosh. Before August, they could not see the top of the Evora Bone Church. But now, 30,000 French people may be about to be low.

"The French landed ashore along the Guadiana River in Porter City by boat. Dad Brimonda, please let the villagers move quickly. Several villages in front of us were occupied by the enemy!" explained a companion who followed Gio.

"Transfer? How to transfer?" Brimonda's heart was in chaos. His dream of making a fortune before was shattered by sudden bad news. Indeed, people could transfer, but how to transfer the grain in the grass, the unharvested wheat in the fields, and the large white oak forest worth more than 1 million Escudo behind him.

Seeing that his dad Brimonda, who was so smart in the past, actually stood there and muttered to himself, becoming demented and crazy. The matter was urgent, and Geo and others quickly woke him up and asked the village chief how to do the next step.

Brimonda finally recovered. He jumped with one foot, bit his lips, and made up his mind and said, "Gio, hurry up and knock on the alarm bell of the church, inform all the villagers to immediately load the grain from the barn into a large cart, take all the livestock, and transfer them to the city of Evora in 15 minutes. All the food that cannot be transported away, as well as the wheat in the wheat fields, must not be left to the French; in addition, he sent people to ride horses to the Evora military camp to report the message and find my son Lieutenant Tasar, and said that the French arrived at the village of San Flesicosco, where assistance was needed; and, as well, gather the guerrillas from the village in the square in front of the church, took their own weapons, and acted according to the prior plan. Finally, pray, may the omnipotent God bless the village of San Flesicosco and bless us!"

...

When the big bronze bell in the church rang again and again, Garset confirmed that the village of San Flesicosco had received news of the arrival of the French army. He raised a small telescope and could see that the crowd who had been working happily before had become panicked refugees who had fled their homes. Behind them were countless four-wheeled carriages full of food and goods, ox-pulling carts, and various livestock.

A soldier ran over to remind the corporal that some villagers were setting fire to the wheat in the barn and wheat fields, asking whether to come forward to stop it. Garset shook his head and told the soldiers to continue to hide in the bushes and not to be exposed without authorization.

It was the harvest season, and the grain and wheat were mostly occupied by the first few villages, and the city of Porter was also well captured. Garcet had roughly estimated from the smile of the brigade quartermaster's smile that the above-mentioned food alone would be enough for the entire division to eat for more than three or five months, not only the supplies and fodder that accompanied the division, as well as the continuous logistics supply from the Badajos Fortress in the rear.

Therefore, as pioneers, their main responsibility is to defend the bridge in front of them and leave a smooth road for the large army to quickly reach the city of Evora. As for the food and barns, let the villagers burn it to the fullest, they are not the ones who feel sorry for them. As long as the Portuguese think about the bridge, everyone will be at peace, each looking for help and each looking for reinforcements.

But fifteen minutes later, Garset's desire to quit both sides failed. 500 meters away, a middle-aged man wearing white military trousers and a fat bald man led more than 50 villagers toward the river and stream bridge in anger. Almost every villager held a smoothbore gun with a bayonet, and a short gun or two tied to his waist. Garset noticed that only two villagers had no weapons. They seemed to be carrying a bucket of turbulent oil or some other igniting liquid in their right hand, and raised the ignited torch with their left hand.

Damn villagers want to burn the bridge! Garset confirmed his guess. He ordered the other seven comrades to continue to hide and make all preparations before the battle. The rifle ruler was revised to 200 meters, put it in before shooting. The primary goal was to carry a bucket with the right hand and hold a torch with the left hand, and of course, the bald fat man who seemed to be the village chief. Thanks to the excellent performance of the Hruna 1810 rifle (using mercury as ignition powder), this small team of reconnaissance troops could lie in the bushes and shoot without having to stand up to fill ammunition.

Brimonda stared at the bushes across the river and stream, but did not find a Frenchman. Everything in front of him was quiet, except for a few birds that were disturbed by the barn fire and thick smoke quickly passed over his head.

A young villager came forward to ask the village chief if Gio encountered Spanish bandits wandering in Portugal in the area of ​​Porter, and mistakenly thought it was the Frenchman who came and came back in a panic to lie about military affairs. These words made everyone laugh, and the negative emotions that had been nervous and uneasy seemed to be swept away in the laughter.

Indeed, since Napoleon annexed Spain, some former Spanish troops' raiders often crossed the Guadiana River and ran to Portugal to plunder. The uniforms of these Spanish defeated soldiers were very familiar with the French army, and ordinary villagers could not tell them at all.

But Brimonda didn't think so. He used his giant hand like iron pliers to grab the neck of the young villagers who were provoking trouble, and his nose almost rushed to the other party's face, and then roared loudly: "Shut up, damn bastard! The city of Porter is under the jurisdiction of Lieutenant Deco. The Portuguese warrior more than ten years ago would never let the wandering Spanish bandits enter his territory. Except for the evil French, do you understand!"

The young villagers quickly beg for mercy with a look of earth. After breaking away from the old guy's big hand, they hid in shame behind the crowd, which then caused everyone to laugh. Despite being solemnly warned by Brimonda, most villagers who had never experienced war were still not very vigilant, especially after witnessing the destruction of their homes and the fact that their wives and children fled to Evora, they seemed even more listless.

In the ostrich mentality, many people are still thinking about it, hoping that the French will not come, and that they will not walk around the city and harm others. In this way, the like-minded people in the village can use this to criticize Brimonda and lift him off the throne of the village chief. As for how to make up for the losses in the village, the oak forest behind them is enough to make the whole village live a happy life. This morning, most of the villagers saw Evora's wine merchants visiting Brimonda and also knew the actual value of century-old oak.

In this way, a group of men with different ulterior motives continued to yell and head towards the wooden bridge. When 200 meters away from the bridge, Brimonda suddenly became impatient and restless, and his heartbeat suddenly increased. This was definitely not caused by the scorching sun above his head. Brimonda's intuition told himself that not far from another bridgehead, someone seemed to be hiding there in the lush bushes and aiming at them with a gun.

Before the village chief could warn in time, the low gunshots had already come from the other side of the bridge. In a blink of an eye, there were several screams from the companions beside him. Brimonda looked back and the two villagers holding the torch and oil barrel were shot several times and fell to the ground. The whistling bullets and the terrifying bodies of the two companions in front of him frightened the other villagers to lie on the ground quickly and dared not move forward any further.

"It's the French!" Although there was no enemy in front of him, Brimonda was sure they were hiding in the bushes. He bent down, shrank his head, carried the rifle in his hand, picked up the torches and oil barrels on the ground, and called on the other villagers to continue moving forward.

"Don't panic, damn it, stand up, and for your family to escape to Evora City, you must burn it..." Before Brimonda finished speaking, a bullet hit his face and penetrated into his head. After a huge pain, Brimonda, who was weak all over, turned black and then fell to the ground without saying a word.

"Escape quickly!" I don't know who started the first, but all the survivors responded to this good proposal. Everyone stood up and turned their heads and ran away. At this time, the gunfire behind them also stopped.

After Garset issued the order to stop shooting, the soldiers were not excited. The battle that had just ended was too boring. Each person shot only once and defeated a group of villagers who had never experienced the battlefield. Naturally, they won't win.

The corporal unfolded the small telescope in his hand again and found that all the armed villagers had completely lost their courage to resist and crawled to chase the escape route of their families. He smiled and told others to continue to stick to their posts, let Enrique cross the river with him, go to the other side of the bridge to see the situation, and clean the battlefield.

"What a group of poor people, there are only 38 Portuguese silver coins!" This is the only battlefield gain after Enrique cleaned up the bodies of the three dead. He had to share it with nine people, and he could only get 4 Portuguese silver coins.

However, Garset was looking up at a half-full barn beside him that had not been burned, with his hands constantly schewing, as if he was calculating the distance between the barn and the bridge, and the surrounding environment of the village, and whether the barn was strong, whether its vision was wide, and whether it could be suitable to be a fortress for his next attack by the Portuguese.

...
Chapter completed!