This morning, all the citizens were excited. They chatted happily about the anecdotes and gossip they usually saw, cursed the damn thieves and robbers, and walked happily to the gallows next to the town.
"Hey, Dan, today is such a happy day. The gang of robbers near the town was finally arrested!" A mustached man wearing a blue roll-sleeved shirt full of tattered pudding smiled and talked to the butcher shop owner next to him. .
"Yeah, I heard that poor old Launt, the wine merchant, was robbed of two entire carriages of wine, which caused the price of wine in the city to double during that period. It's really damning." He is addicted to alcohol. The butcher shop owner patted his big beer belly and said resentfully.
"But thankfully, they got the fate they deserved! Oh, I really hope that old Launt can open his eyes in heaven and take a good look at how his enemy died on this broken gallows." The man with the mustache was in a good mood and patted the butcher shop owner on the shoulder.
"Don't touch me, keep your blue nails away from me!" Although the butcher shop owner could talk to the man in blue with a mustache calmly, he was as excited as a cat with exploding fur when he touched his body.
"Sorry, man, it's my fault. I'm so happy today!" The man in blue with a mustache smiled bitterly and stepped aside angrily.
It turns out that the man with the mustache is a dyer working in a dyehouse. Because dyers are exposed to various dyes on a daily basis, many colors remain on their fingers that are difficult to wash away. Therefore, they are nicknamed "blue nails" by others, and they silently suffer the contempt and prejudice of other citizens.
Of course, the butcher and his butcher shop themselves are also very unpopular with the town residents because of the killing and the strong smell of blood.
In the midst of the jubilant crowd, the crooked-mouthed man, whose hands were tightly tied behind his back, was like a defeated rooster. He was dejected and led to the gallows by two well-equipped bailiffs under the gaze of everyone.
No one threw rotten leaves or rotten eggs at him. Due to the lack of supplies, many people cannot even provide for their own food and clothing. In this case, throwing these "luxury foods" is simply a crime.
"Damn Cowan!" Before he died, the crooked-mouthed man's eyes showed extreme resentment and unwillingness.
In the past few days, he had met the grey-clothed minions in the dark and damp dungeon who had injuries to their private parts and were in a daze. He knew that it was impossible for this guy who seemed to be mentally retarded to have leaked the secret. In addition, Cowan, who had his arm pierced by an arrow and was caught by the bailiff, had long since disappeared.
"I shouldn't have boasted about my relative's success in London in the first place!" The crooked-mouthed man regretted it.
After being betrayed by Cowan, the bulls he originally boasted about now became his reminder.
"Ahem, be quiet!" An old man wearing a long loose robe walked up to the gallows and looked at the bustling citizens below. The noisy citizens just now gradually quieted down and all looked at the old man.
"Crooked-mouthed Rex, you have been accused of multiple crimes such as theft, robbery, rape, murder, etc. Do you have any last words to say before you die?" The old judge looked down at the crooked-mouthed man being held in custody.
"I curse the person who betrayed me and betrayed me to fall into hell after death!" The crooked-mouthed man was so angry that his voice trembled, and after speaking, he spat on the ground.
"On the contrary, he helped us get rid of you, a scumbag who is as evil as Satan's apostle, and redeemed his own soul so that he would not go to hell after death." A priest on the side shook his head gently and said slowly.
"If you have nothing else to say, let the execution begin now!" After the old judge finished speaking, he waved to the musicians not far away. Soon, a melodious trumpet sounded.
"If you have any last words, go and talk to Satan. You must have a lot in common with him!" The executioner covered the face of the crooked-mouthed man with a piece of black cloth, put a rope around his neck, and opened the gallows. Next to the switch.
"Boom!"
The traps on the soles of the crooked-faced man suddenly opened.
The villain was hanging in the air and struggling, and after a while, there was no movement amidst the cheers of the crowd.
"Let's go," Simon from behind the crowd rubbed little Klein's messy hair, "go to the leatherworker and blacksmith to get the repaired equipment. It's time for us to go back."
Simon’s trip was a fruitful one.
Various trophies were sold for fifty-three Denier silver coins, fighting for Baron Iser earned fifteen Denier silver coins, and selling the catapult to Baron Red earned eighteen Denier silver coins...
There is a lot of income, but also a lot of expenses. It cost twenty silver coins to hire the stonemason Ryan, seven silver coins to make the catapult, six silver coins to repair the equipment at the blacksmith and cobbler, eight single bows and some arrows to purchase, and the others. Including various expenses such as food and accommodation, maintaining horses, purchasing slaves, etc., it cost nearly three silver coins...
"I think I made a net profit of forty-two Denier silver coins this time, brought back a cart of weapons and equipment, and nearly thirty slaves." Simon thought with a satisfied smile.
………
It was a morning covered with dark clouds. Under the salty sea breeze and the leisurely cawing of seagulls, Simon's motorcade embarked on its return journey.
"Try to walk as fast as possible and try to reach Isselburg to rest before it rains." Simon, who was riding a tall horse, told the soldiers.
The soldiers wore restored armor and looked very majestic.
Captain Miller wore a repaired cavalry helmet with a leather neck guard, clean soft armor lining, brand new shiny chainmail, and a intact iron sword at his waist. He held his head high and stood before the citizens. He led the convoy forward with their envious eyes.
Other soldiers also wore repaired leather armor and held straight and sharp spears, following on both sides of the convoy.
"Oh, my God, is this an elite mercenary team? I may not be able to afford the armor and equipment of the guy leading the way." A boy from a grocery store looked at him blankly. Simon and his team were walking towards him with burning eyes.
"You're blind, that's a private troop of a noble! Didn't you see the heraldic robe on the gentleman riding behind?" The grocery store owner came out from behind the counter and looked at the people passing by the door of the store. team, "I seem to have seen this lord's coat of arms somewhere... By the way, it's the Dorsten family of the Earl of Berg in the south!"
"The Dolsten family? Their stewards will come to Abeldoorn Port every now and then to sell crops and agricultural products produced in their territory and buy various commodities from us. Although there are no Friesland and Flanders principalities. The nobles are so wealthy." A pottery maker struck up a conversation with the grocer.
"But I heard a traveling businessman from the south say that his family has a village blessed by God, called Verde Village. The fertility of barley and oats is unheard of by all of us. There are even rumors that the wheat harvest there is more than It can reach one to twenty." The grocery store owner said as he sent the boy in the store to stop looking and continue working.
"Oh my god, aren't you bragging?" The potter said in surprise and disbelief, "This sounds more like the fabrication of some drunk guy at the Olive Branch Tavern."
"Who knows," the grocer added, taking a sip of cider, "maybe God knows."
The grocer and the pottery maker had no idea that the conversation they had just had was listened to by a tall, thin man with blond hair and blue eyes in shabby clothes.
"Isn't that right, Verde Village? They were robbed and destitute last year." The tall, thin man with blond hair and blue eyes frowned and thought carefully before walking to the tavern not far away, "Maybe I need to ask a few more informed people. Please ask for confirmation."
………
"Sir, have all the thirty slaves been sent back to Feld Village?" The slightly childish voice of little Klein who was riding the packhorse behind sounded.
"That's right." Simon nodded.
It turned out that Simon, who knew he would stay in Abeldoorn Port for a while, felt that it was a pity that it would be vacant during this period, so he spent a small amount of money to have the town clerk write a letter to Baron Iser , entrusting him to send his thirty slaves back to the village of Verde first, and let the fat man and the village chief organize them for recruit training, construction of wooden forts, and farming of public fields as soon as possible.
"I've been out for so long, I wonder what's going on in the village now." Simon thought to himself.
"Iselburg!" Miller suddenly pointed forward and shouted happily.
"Today we will rest at Fort Issel for a day." Simon looked up at the castle looming in the fog in the distance and caressed the horse under his crotch. "Work hard, old man. We can rest soon."
