In the meeting, the energetic grandson took point. He introduced himself to the convoy as Rene and started the meeting by saying,

"It seems you're familiar with the men that attacked us, from what I heard," asked one of the guards, the only one situated at the table, indicating he held the position of head guard. "Can you tell us more about them?"

"They are a bunch of marauders and lowlifes, nothing more! They started operating in this area around four years ago."

"I heard they were part of a larger group but were kicked out for being too violent and reckless."

"Not many people would attack a convoy as large as yours, so it's definitely them. They call themselves 'The Baedu Partisans'. I overheard them talking back in the day, when they used to get drunk in this inn after raiding us, that they got chased out of Mount Baedu after the bandit groups were united."

"How many men do they have?" the guard further inquired.

"The largest I've seen them gather is thirty. Their leader is a mean bastard who enjoys torturing and maiming. This stopped many potential recruits, but not all of them."

"I reckon they all number no less than fifty."

This was a sizeable force to deal with, and it showed on the faces of the participants, causing second thoughts about the whole affair.

"Don't be disheartened, people! Think of the losses we suffered and will continue to suffer if we don't take a stand. Now that we have these people with us, we stand a fighting chance!" asserted Rene.

"Fiery speeches without a concrete plan will lead only to disaster."

Everyone turned to see where this voice came from. Before they could figure out who had spoken, the head guard chimed in:

"We took down half a dozen in the pursuit throughout the night. Unless they are all on horseback, it will take them at least a few more hours to regroup and catch up with us. We need to come up with a plan before then."

"We are farmers, not soldiers! Fighting is not in our blood."

"But we need your aid if we are to get rid of the bandits."

"We didn't say we wouldn't help you. I just reminded you that we are simple farmers and fishermen."

A gloomy mood set in once more. It was true that most of these men had little to no experience in fighting—a gap that would have to be bridged if they were to confront their tormentors.

As silence took hold, it was broken by a young boy slamming his fist on the table, rousing everyone from their deep thoughts and garnering their attention.

"You say that you are not soldiers, but that is not true. What is a warrior? What is fighting? For me—no, for all of us in this very instant, fighting is staying alive by the end of the day. Fighting is not having to sacrifice any more of my loved ones, watching them be dragged away to be enslaved or murdered. Fighting is sharing one more breathing moment in safety and peace!" Taking a breath before continuing, he said, "Do you not all yearn for these things? Are only warriors allowed to live in this world? No! You can train someone for a thousand days and he will not become a warrior. A warrior is someone who takes his life into his own hands; he doesn't shirk his responsibility to protect what he holds dear. The moment you decided to make your stand, you all became warriors! And as such, Saint Romulus will bestow his blessing upon you as warriors, and Saint Veneto will bless you for your desire to save your lives and possessions! And the saintess Iustitia will be by your side, for you are fighting for justice."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Spurred on by the young man's speech, and knowing their cause was just and the saints' blessings would be with them, everyone's fire ignited once more. They were in awe of his eloquence, despite his young age, and they began proposing plans on how to fight the battle.

Joshua, taking advantage of the current reverence before it faded, laid down his plan: "These bandits will first send a scouting party. They can't miss the tracks made by the wagons, so they should be here soon. If they see the wagons outside, they will rush back and return with the rest of their group. The first thing we need to do is hide the caravans and let them approach the village first."

"Why would we want them to come to our village? Shouldn't we take the time to fortify instead? Them running away saves us precious time."

"They are sure to send most of their riders as scouts. Fighting them in the open is suicidal. We can use this chance to get rid of them!"

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"What makes you so sure of that? We won't risk your lives on the words of a green brat!" yelled out the guard captain in defiance. "We should ride out in force while they're busy burning the crops and chase them off!"

Noticing both sides were in agreement with his proposal, Joshua had to get them back on his side. Indeed, this proposal suited the guards, who were perhaps eager to prove their worth to their employers after their recent mishaps, and it made the residents glad that the soldiers would do most of the fighting.

"In truth, I spent our early childhood as captives of a bandit group, forced to serve their needs and take part in their misdeeds before managing to escape. It was a dog-eat-dog environment; whenever there was trouble, the leader always sent scouts ahead, afraid he would run into trouble and be deserted by his lackeys."

His heartbreaking story, as he went on about the horrors he saw before escaping and joining the merchant group, made them realize it was imprudent to dismiss his words despite his age. Several people murmured in agreement. The head guard's confusion about his comments was mended by a side glance from his boss, ordering him to follow the plan, as he discerned it was practical.

His heart breaking story as he went on about the horrors he saw before escaping and joining the merchant group made them realize it was imprudent to dismiss his words despite his age, several people murmured in agreement. The head guard confusion about his comments were mended by a side glance from his boss, ordering him to follow the plan as he discerned it was practical.

"They need to be stored somewhere where we can take them out quickly, and make sure to drive them out of town, then bring them back in!"

"The wagons should fit in my barn. Not sure why we're driving them out first, but I'll handle it," claimed old man Kyris as he headed out to fetch the coachmen and guide them there.

"They will surely come to question you about the convoy. What do they usually do when they arrive?"

"They burn one of our fields until we gather around, then take their time plundering us and molesting our women."

"We can't fight them in the open like that! They are likely to flee on horseback if we show our hand too quickly!" observed Sai as he joined the conversation. "We need to get them somewhere enclosed and cut them down all at once."

Such brutality would usually make people question what kind of lives these children had led, but the situation allowed no room for inquiries or wasted time.

"We can ignore the burned crops. What good is grain to dead men?"

"That would seem too suspicious. We usually leave in a hurry at the sight of flame," said Rene. "But when the leader isn't here, they are more interested in looting and drinking than in their mission. After they finish torturing us, they'll head to the inn and take all our liquor."

"And if none of the women come out, they'll want to come to the center of the village sooner," said Laria. "They don't discriminate between young or old—the pigs! They will shove their pricks into anything that moves, you can be sure of that!"

Realizing the heavy burden carried by their women as the wailing sounds grew at her words, the men felt more ashamed, and their blood started boiling.

"Damn these bastards! We will endure their torture one last time if it means getting to slit their throats," several women cried out as more of the town's residents gathered in the hall outside, listening to the meeting.

"I promise that this day will be the last one you have to suffer such degradation, and with such resolve, Saintess Iustitia herself would feel ashamed not to aid and guide you!"

And so, the plan was hatched. The merchant group would disguise themselves as normal residents, putting on their ragged clothes and carrying only hidden knives. The men would rush off as usual to the gathering flames when they erupted, and when the bandits finished with their usual torment, the women's turn would come.

Despite all of them begging for a chance to take vengeance for their plights, only the widowed women were allowed by the elder, as many of them sought vindication for the lives of their husbands and sons.

Today was the day the debt was to be settled, and the day peasants became warriors.