"This is it, sir." Miller held the gray draft horse under Little Klein's crotch, led Simon and his group into a small yard surrounded by a low wooden fence, and skillfully tied the reins inside the yard. On the hitching post.
In front of you is a large double-story wooden house. On the street side of the house there is a small wooden sign with a simple drawing of a wooden mug of beer.
There are several wooden tables and long wooden chairs placed in the open air in the yard in front of the house, and there are a few drunken drinkers sitting in twos and threes who are bragging loudly.
At the wooden door entrance on the first floor of the tavern, a dark-haired man with a hideous scar on his face, wearing a green short robe and a dirty gray linen apron was leaning against the wall next to the door. He seemed to be the owner of the tavern.
"Dear gentlemen, what do you need? Whether it's wine, food or accommodation, I bet you can't find another pub better than ours in Port Abeldoorn!" said the bored shopkeeper. When I saw someone leading a horse into the yard, I knew that big business was coming, so I immediately went to greet him.
"Arrange the guest room, we will stay here for a while." Miller tied up the pack horse, untied the kettle from his waist and took a sip.
"In addition, give my men two large plates of cooked venison, a glass of ale and a piece of bread for each person." Simon also tied up his horse, stepped forward, and added.
"No problem, Sir, please come with me!" The scar-faced shop owner smiled flatteringly, opened the door of the tavern, and motioned for Simon to follow.
Simon entered the tavern and felt that it was cleaner and cleaner than the tavern in Isselburg. It was only noon now, and there was no one else except a few rude mercenaries with weapons on their waists and a few shrewd traveling businessmen with money bags on their shoulders who were watching warily from time to time, eating and talking.
"Sir, the guest rooms are on the second floor."
Simon followed the owner's steps up the oak stairs to the dark and damp second floor. All he saw in front of him was a narrow corridor with five large and small rooms.
"Dear Sir, there are only two rooms now, one big and one small. The big one can accommodate seven to eight people, and it costs two copper coins a day. The small one can accommodate two to three people, and it only costs two copper coins a day. A copper coin." The shopkeeper introduced it eloquently. In the dim light coming from the corridor window, his scarred face looked particularly scary.
"I want both rooms. My attendants and I sleep in one room, and all the soldiers sleep in the other room. It's just right." With that said, Simon took off his helmet and walked into the small room.
The room is not big, with a small window. There were three messy hay beds on the ground, and God knew who had slept on them before. There was a small bucket with scattered feces in the corner of the room. It seemed that everyone was excreting there.
Maybe the room was also smelly, but after Simon's nose was tortured by the poisonous gas on the street, he actually felt that the air in the small room was relatively fresh at this time.
"That's it."
"I hope you like it here," the shopkeeper almost laughed from ear to ear, "I'm going to arrange food and drinks for you now."
………
In the afternoon, Simon led little Klein, who was holding the pack horse, toward the market in the city.
"Madam, do you know how to get to the Masons' Guild?" Simon asked a woman sitting at the door of her home coaxing her child.
"Guild? What is a guild? I've never heard of it." The woman looked confused. Suddenly the child in her arms began to cry loudly, and she had to carry the child back into the house.
"It's strange that there isn't even a guild here." Simon scratched his head.
What Simon didn't know was that the masons' guilds, blacksmiths' guilds, etc., which were popular in various novels, movies, and TV series, first appeared in this land that had experienced the barbarian storm from the 12th to 13th centuries. At that time, it was during the period of urban commune uprisings. In order to protect their own interests and resist the unwarranted extortion and oppression of their lords, people from all walks of life spontaneously formed their own guilds.
We are still in the dark Viking Age, and the economies across Western Europe are in a slow recovery stage. Not to mention guilds, there are only a few craftsmen.
"Sir, maybe we can go to the blacksmith next to the market first." Little Klein pursed his lips and looked at the various damaged weapons and equipment on the carriage pulled by the packhorse behind him.
"That's fine."
Simon and little Klein walked towards the market.
"Come and take a look, freshly baked bread that is resistant to moisture and rot! The best food for your long voyage!" A vendor shouted loudly in front of his stall filled with various types of bread.
"Gentlemen, buy a feather that has been blessed by the Virgin Mary! This magical feather can protect you from setting off and returning safely every time!" A curly-bearded man wearing a worn-out pilgrimage pointed at himself The bright red feather on his hand is constantly selling to people coming and going.
"I have smoked sausages, bacon and salted fish here, which can be stored for a long time! Those of you who make a living at sea must not treat yourselves badly! Come and buy them!" A boy from the butcher shouted hard.
"Gentlemen, I can give you a new lease of life! Do you want to come in and have some fun?" Several scantily clad female bathhouse workers were showing off at the door of a dilapidated bathhouse.
This bustling little market is built on the edge of the pier, so in addition to local residents, the people passing through it are mostly sailors from ships docking at the port.
"Master, it's all done." An old man with a white beard wearing a black roll-sleeved gown, a brown leather apron, and thick long deerskin gloves stood up from the side of a beautiful white war horse and wiped his hands. Wipe the thick beads of sweat on your head.
"You are worthy of being the best blacksmith in this principality. Take it, you deserve it." A man with a square face wearing a red robe with the lion's coat of arms nodded with satisfaction and handed the old blacksmith two virtues. Niel silver coin.
"Sir, you gave me too much. You don't need so much money to shoe horses!" Just when the old blacksmith wanted to find some copper coins from the money bag around his waist to give to the square-faced man, he realized that he was already holding the white horse in the servant's lap. Surrounded and walked away.
"It seems that this blacksmith is quite talented." Simon, who had just witnessed all this, thought to himself, waved to little Klein, and walked forward.
"Oh? Here comes another distinguished lord. What do you need?" The old blacksmith saw Simon, who was well-dressed, and also saw a carriage full of weapons and equipment of varying degrees of damage behind him.
"I want to repair these damaged equipment. By the way, there is also this," Simon said, taking out two pieces of damaged chain mail from the carriage, "These two pieces of chain mail also need to be repaired."
"No problem, Sir. By the way, have you collected the iron rings that were scattered when the chain mail was broken?" The old blacksmith took the chain mail and spread it flat on a large table in the blacksmith shop.
"No." Simon answered simply.
"That's a pity. The price may be a little higher. I have seen some thrifty lords who would send servants to collect the iron rings scattered on the ground after the battle." After the old blacksmith finished speaking, he turned to the blacksmith. The man behind the shop shouted. After a while, a thin apprentice with a clear nose came out.
The old blacksmith gave a few instructions in his ear, and then the young apprentice entered the back room with two pieces of chainmail in his hands, sniffling.
"Sir, is there anything else you need?" The old blacksmith looked at Simon with a smile. He really made a lot of money today.
"Can you repair this?" Simon said, and little Klein took out a ring-shaped armor with deep knife marks from the carriage and placed it on the wooden table.
"Oh?" The old blacksmith took off his deerskin gloves, squinted his eyes and rubbed the scars on the ring-shaped armor with his calloused and wrinkled hands, "I can make the iron ring inlaid on it to replace the damaged one. But If you want to repair the inner leather armor, I'm afraid, my lord, you will have to find a leathersmith in the city."
"Leathermaker?"
"That's right, it's not far from here. Walk along the road beside the port for a while, and you'll be on the west side of the city wall." The old blacksmith pointed forward.
"Okay," Simon nodded, and suddenly seemed to remember something, "By the way, I also want to know where the masons in the city are."
"Sir, that was the man in the red and white striped tent outside the city when you entered the city." After the old blacksmith finished speaking, he put on his gloves again and called out the apprentice again, asking him to help little Klein get on the carriage. The rest of the heavy broken equipment was moved into the blacksmith shop.
………
When Simon walked to the leatherworker's shop, a middle-aged brown-haired man with thick eyebrows and a long face with a broom-like beard and gray-blue eyes was scolding a little boy with scars all over his body and dirty clothes.
"Step up and step on me, little Denis, otherwise you won't even get crumbs for dinner today." The middle-aged man with thick eyebrows and a long face threatened viciously, and pushed the poor, thin child, who was sobbing with his head down, into a large wooden basin. edge.
"Oh my god, it's really disgusting." Simon frowned when he saw that the big wooden basin was filled with all kinds of feces.
"I'll do it, I'll do it, Mr. Walder." The child was shaking, crying, holding up his trousers and stepping into the disgusting pile of feces. As he stepped on it, the middle-aged and long-faced leatherworker named Wald added water to the wooden basin. He looked very disgusting.
"Master, this seems to be making a softener for soaking leather." Little Klein also sympathized with the poor child of his own age.
"Oh? This noble lord, do you need anything?" Hearing the voice of little Klein and the footsteps getting closer and closer, the leatherworker who just now had a cold face and kept cursing the little boy in a low voice raised his head. When he saw Simon coming, he immediately showed a flattering smile.
But his ragged yellow buck teeth are really unbearable to look at.
