Chapter 8: The Leading Sheep

“Go, Mia.”  

Wade calmed his mind and hid around the corner, focusing entirely on communicating with Mia.  

He handed the bag of silver coins in his hand to Mia. The little one grabbed the cloth bag about her size and flew toward the sheepfold in the darkness.  

The bag contained a total of twelve silver coins, the sum Wade had collected from seven pirates.  

These twelve silver coins came from different regions. Some were engraved with crosses and lily decorations, while others only bore church scriptures and mint marks.  

In fact, more than half of these silver coins came from the pirate whose throat Wade had initially slit. That man appeared honest but secretly hid a lot of money.  

He alone had concealed seven silver coins, which was quite a lot. To put it into perspective, a Netherland farmer had to work hard for half a year, after daily expenses, to earn one silver coin.  

One church silver coin engraved with a cross could buy about forty large loaves of bread, enough for one day’s food. Three church silver coins could purchase a healthy, sturdy goat.  

Seven silver coins were equivalent to that pirate hiding two goats and forty loaves of bread inside his clothing.  

From this, one can see how significant one silver coin was to an ordinary person.  

Of course, “significant” is just a metaphor; in reality, one Twilight Church silver coin only weighed three grams, often even less because during transactions, they were trimmed for weight.  

The bag holding twelve silver coins weighed at most as much as an egg.  

Even so, they were much heavier than Mia.  

When Mia landed in Wade’s palm, she was as light as a breeze. She didn’t weigh as much as an egg but easily carried the “egg’s weight” as she flew away.  

Wade completely understood her flight trajectory. She smoothly reached the sheepfold and, following instructions, silently placed the silver coins in a conspicuous spot in the middle of the fence.  

Even from more than ten meters away, Wade’s connection with her did not break.  

He could feel she wanted to come back. If her birth was likened to a child’s birth, this was the first time she had been so far from Wade.  

She seemed a bit unsettled and uneasy.  

However, it was not to the extent of “bursting into tears.”  

She just couldn’t see Wade anymore but could still feel his presence.  

Wade still had tasks to assign her. The pirates wouldn’t come out for no reason after placing silver coins in the sheepfold. Even Baldy had to make some noise when dropping silver coins.  

He instructed Mia to disturb the sheep, to stir up a commotion to attract the pirates’ attention.  

After all, cattle and sheep were important loot during Viking pirate raids.  

Mia sent back the thought “Understood.” Before Wade could teach her how to proceed, she began to act on her own.  

As a northern folk, she must have known well how to interact with sheep in her previous life. In such a cold place, the warm animal fur was indispensable. Sheep also provided meat and milk. Animal husbandry was a vital part of northern folk’s lives.  

She first floated up and observed for a while, then slipped under a sheep’s belly.  

That sheep was larger in size, with more developed muscles, but had no horns on its head.  

Among sheep, only rams grow spiral large horns. This was a ewe, and beside her were two lambs.  

This ewe was likely the leading sheep of the flock.  

Most leading sheep in flocks are experienced ewes. The leader needs to be familiar with the surroundings, such as foraging paths and water sources, requiring reliable memory and experience. It also needs sufficient endurance to lead the group on long journeys. Impatient rams usually can’t take on this responsibility.  

Ewes with lambs have higher safety needs and are more alert, making them more likely to be leaders. The rest of the flock will follow them instinctively.  

This is a result of natural selection. Even domesticated flocks retain this instinct, having a “leader,” which was the ewe with two lambs.  

Mia wriggled beneath the ewe’s belly. The flock was already uneasy due to the chaotic village. As a mother of two lambs, the ewe became agitated with a phantom messing around inside her. She started bleating chaotically and butted the fence back and forth.  

The leader’s abnormal behavior caused the rest of the sheep to sense danger. Each became restless, and the flock grew very noisy at once.  

Mia perfectly completed the task Wade assigned her, even better than he expected.  

Wade looked toward the hay storage barn and instructed Mia not to let the sheep’s commotion stop and to hide well without showing herself.  

All that was left was to wait for the pirates to come out by themselves.  

The chaotic bleating reached inside the barn.  

The pirates inside all heard it. Someone looked back, but Mite, who was sitting on the hay, just yawning listlessly, still let the crossbow arrow droop over his thigh.  

He was completely unmotivated. He himself opposed raiding in winter. Such cold days were better spent indoors warming by the fire and sleeping, not riding sleds overnight to kill and rob in a remote village like this.  

Outside was dark and freezing cold, making people shiver uncontrollably. It was impossible to muster enthusiasm.  

But he was only one of Sven’s forty-three subordinates. Since the leader decided on a night raid, even if he didn’t want to, he had to follow.  

Yet he still found it troublesome. Preparing for winter raids was really a lot of work.  

The leader didn’t need to worry about these trivial matters; the leader just gave orders. The dirty, tiring work was done by the underlings.  

Honestly, Mite had many complaints in his heart.  

The preparations were exhausting: reinforcing sleds with ice nails and whale whiskers, coating everyone’s swords with sheep fat, preparing dried herring and portable sleeping bags.  

It was really tiring, and there was no benefit.  

Who knew if the intelligence the leader bought was true?  

Anyway, Mite didn’t think this village was as wealthy as the informant boasted.  

At least so far, Mite hadn’t gotten any loot.  

No choice; he wasn’t strong enough, couldn’t match others’ sword skills, so he could only follow behind and shoot a few arrows to scavenge leftovers.  

But scavenging wasn’t easy either. When others slashed people with swords, they could squat down and loot corpses. Mite’s crossbow arrows rarely grabbed anything from others. This time, he had no extra gains from the raid and could only wait for the feast to get his share of the spoils.  

He estimated in his mind how much he would get.  

At the feast, cattle, sheep, large gold and silver utensils, iron farming tools, swords, and chainmail would be converted into equivalent silver coins. Everyone would receive their share based on status and contribution.  

According to Sven’s rules, the leader took the largest portion, about 40% of the total loot, and had first pick of spoils, such as the lord’s sword or virgin captives, effectively taking half the haul himself.  

No one objected to this. Sven was the only silver-level warrior in the team and the only professional. Without Sven, many villages and towns wouldn’t be able to be conquered.  

After Sven took his share, the rest of the loot was divided evenly according to value.  

The lead oarsmen of the longship—two men considered Sven’s right and left arms—handled steering and tactical commands and received two extra shares.  

Ordinary oarsmen’s shares decreased by rowing position: the second row at the stern got half an extra share, the midship a little less, and rookies with less than half a year got the minimum guaranteed.  

This time, they rode reindeer sleds along rivers and snowfields for two days without rowing ships, so the distribution rules didn’t apply.  

Basically, except for the first warrior who got a headcount bonus of half a share, the rest divided equally.  

Obviously, under this team distribution rule, Mite’s cut would be very small.  

To earn extra income, one had to earn side gains—killing more people to grab more loot. Anything small enough to fit in a pocket didn’t need to be declared at the feast; those were personal items.  

But Mite didn’t have such opportunities. He estimated that getting five silver coins from this trip would be a blessing from the god of war.  

Damn country folk, so pitifully poor.  

Mite shrank his neck into the wool sweater, only exposing a pair of squinted small eyes.  

The wooden door of the cellar was about to be smashed open. Every time the battle axe and iron hammer struck, the grooves and cracks on the door deepened. To block the door, the people inside must have moved everything movable behind it, but that was useless. This wasn’t a fortress, just a barn used by villagers to store wine and food.  

The door would be opened soon, but Mite was very impatient. He just wanted to finish quickly, go back, curl up in his bed, and sleep deeply.  

If it weren’t for the hope of finding something valuable inside, he would have burned the place down already.  

When Sven was in Gerden Town, he did exactly that. The foolish guards thought hiding in an iron can-like fortress could stop the pirates, but Sven set it all ablaze, burning everything to ashes.  

Mite could still recall the thick smoke and charred human shapes. Now he just wanted to burn this village down, no matter the fine wine or grain. Clearly, it was supposed to be resting time, yet they had to be called out to work. So annoying!  

His heart was full of resentment. Outside, sheep bleating came again.  

“Baa, baa, baa~”  

The animals’ cries were irritating.  

Perhaps worried the animals would break the fence, the squad leader suddenly said, “Someone go outside to quiet the sheep.”  

No one made a sound. No one wanted to do that job. It was very cold outside, and the sheepfold and cattle pen reeked of a foul fermented manure smell.  

Everyone remained silent. Mite’s body curled like a shrimp, and he shuffled his butt further inside.  

The squad leader and others exchanged glances. Finally, everyone’s eyes tacitly gathered on Mite.  

“Mite, you go.” The squad leader ordered.  

Damn it!  

Mite really wanted to curse, but the squad leader was tall and strong, two heads taller than Mite. The wheat-colored face bore a cross-shaped scar, and his sharp upturned eyes were like a wild wolf from the ice plains.  

The last disobedient person was knocked to the ground by the squad leader’s slap.  

Mite pictured that scene, stared at the squad leader for a few seconds, held back his resentment, jumped down from the haystack, and silently walked outside the barn.