It was already afternoon when we set off on the journey again from Duisburg.
The fat man rode the beautiful horse that Baron Karl sold to Simon and walked gloriously at the front.
"A plowing ox costs ten silver coins of Denier, so a beautiful horse was originally worth sixty silver coins. Baron Karl gave me ten silver coins because I helped him retrieve the horse, so it ended up costing five Ten Denier silver coins." Simon muttered silently, riding behind the fat man.
"Master, maybe you should get me and Miller a beautiful coat of arms so that people will remember the coat of arms of the Dorsten family when they see us, and spread the reputation of you and the family everywhere." Fatty His mail was shining brightly in the sun, but he felt that it had become very hot, which made him uncomfortable.
In addition to helping our soldiers identify themselves on the chaotic battlefield, the heraldic robe can also cover the usually dark and somewhat unsightly mail armor. Hot.
"That's not a temporary thing." Simon joked. In addition to buying ready-made linen burqas in original colors for the two of them, it would take Simon several weeks to dye the burqas and print the heraldry.
"I can't wait to see how I look when I put on my new burqa." The fat man smiled happily and honestly.
"Master, there is a village ahead!" Miller's shout interrupted the conversation between Simon and Fatty. The two looked around and saw a small hill in the distance where the main road led, and on the hill they could vaguely see To a village surrounded by sharp wooden walls.
"Let's go take a look." Simon became interested.
Simon remembered that his father once told him that there was a special territory in Berg County, and its lord was more like a tribal leader than a baron.
This village called Vitlar retains a strong tribal atmosphere. After the village surrendered to the Carolingian dynasty, the entire village began to gradually accept the influence of the Frankish Kingdom's culture. The tribal leader became a baron, and the tribal retinue under the leader became the baron's private soldiers.
The difference between this territory and other baronies in Berg County is that the residents here are extremely stubborn and conservative. They still practice the customary laws of the ancient barbarians in the territory, and are used to wearing rough clothing made of animal skins, or It's straight up shirtless.
"I heard that the folk customs here are fierce, so you should restrain yourself when you enter the village." Simon warned Fatty and Miller.
"Okay, Master!" Fatty and Miller replied almost in unison.
After a while, Simon, Fatty and Miller arrived at the outskirts of the village.
The wooden exterior walls of the entire village are very mottled and outdated, and it seems that they have experienced the ups and downs of generations.
Standing at the entrance of the large wooden gate of the village were two muscular, bare-chested soldiers with braided beards, holding oak spears and carrying a small basket of spears on their backs.
This village could be said to be remote in the past, but with the stability and prosperity of the Cologne area and the passage of many pilgrims and traders on their way to the holy city of Cologne, a tavern and a blacksmith shop were built in the village of Vitlar to provide services for travelers. Serve.
"Who are you?" A soldier stepped forward and said to Simon with a strong local accent.
"This is Lord Simon of Dorsten," the fat man took a step forward on his horse, "We are heading to Cologne and want to rest in this village for a night."
"Of course." The vigilant soldier breathed a sigh of relief, nodded to the other soldier, and the two retreated to both sides of the village gate.
"Go in." Simon drove forward and entered this village with tribal characteristics out of curiosity.
The first thing that greeted Simon was the everlasting stench and the ubiquitous human and animal excrement. The next thing that caught his eye was a man covered in blood and scars in the small square in the center of the village, tied tightly to a thick tree.
In addition to the lord's residence, tavern, blacksmith shop, and granary, the houses in the village are basically simple wooden houses that are semi-grounded.
Many villagers are wearing animal skins or are bare-chested. However, some people, like villagers in other places, wore cotton robes and rolled-sleeved linen blouses.
"Interesting." Simon found that almost every local soldier he saw was carrying a basket of javelins and holding a skin shield. And on their waists, most of them have a sharp short axe.
"Master, why don't we go to that tavern to have a rest first?" The fat man looked at Simon and pointed to the two-story wood-and-stone structure house not far away.
When the three of them arrived at the door of the tavern, sweating profusely, Simon saw that a black war horse had been tied up in the simple stable next to the tavern.
"Crunch!"
The old wooden door of the tavern made a sad sound. Almost at the same time, everyone in the tavern focused their attention on the door.
The tavern was very dark, and the torches stuck on the wooden wall pillars were swaying their lifeless flames, providing bright illumination to the entire tavern.
Perhaps it was because it had just rained here a while ago that the inside of the tavern was extremely humid. Even the rough stone walls that should have been very dry were now covered with dense drops of water, shining under the light of the torches.
There are five large log-colored wooden tables covered with oil stains and scratches in the lobby of the tavern. On the long wooden seats on both sides, there are sparsely seated customers who are drinking wine with wine glasses in their hands, or enjoying lunch with their heads down.
On the right side of the entrance to the tavern, there is a simple counter, with many clean wooden wine glasses neatly placed on it, two plates of freshly cooked roast venison with eggs, and three apples that were roasted until their skins were browned and cracked. There was a row of nails nailed to the beams above the counter, and hanging on them were a few glistening sausages, a bundle of herbs, and a few pickled fish and dried meats.
"Gentlemen, what would you like to order? Would you like to try our shop's signature, a large glass of refreshing beer and a plate full of boiled sausages?" An enthusiastic tavern maid in a linen dress greeted us.
"Three servings." Simon nodded. He really no longer wanted to eat the same bread soaked in thick soup every day.
"Hey, Komat, look at their sophisticated equipment." Just in the corner of the tavern, a man with a thick beard, a stuffed leather hat, a green robe, and a black hood was holding a The man holding a wooden cup of beer lightly nudged the guy next to him and whispered.
"Huh? Marcy, do you want to kill them all?" The man named Komait wore a pilgrim hood, a tattered long-sleeved linen robe, a stuffed sleeveless jacket, and a pair of muddy leggings. Shoes, at this time, he was eating the brown bread in his hand with the thick soup in the wooden bowl.
"That's right, just selling their mail and helmets is enough for us to relax for two or three years," the bearded man named Maxi drank while covering up his extremely excited state, but his The eyes full of greed could not leave the three Simons for a moment, "I think just the two of us will never be able to chew this hard nut. We have to find helpers. If nothing else, they will also leave. This is Cologne, which is not too far away. When the time comes we..."
"Good idea. As long as they go to Cologne, I'm not afraid that these three sets of sophisticated equipment will run away like cunning rabbits." Komet put all the bread into his mouth, picked up the wooden bowl and poured out the remaining soup. Putting it all into his mouth, he casually wiped the soup that overflowed from the corner of his mouth with his scarred and calloused hands, as if he had already eaten the three of Simon.
………
All five tables in the tavern were occupied, so the three Simons had to choose one of the tables with only one person seated and sit down.
After Simon sat down, he casually looked at the stranger, but frowned a little strangely.
This guy has brown hair and blue eyes. He is wearing a lining with Anglo-Saxon patterns, but his lower body is wearing loose striped trousers with a very Ross style. His outer armor is a Byzantine-style cowhide armor, but on his head is a Frankish-style wide-brimmed leather turban segmented dome helmet.
"Hello, gentlemen, maybe you are curious why my dress is so different and out of place with the people around me." At this time, the stranger who saw the three people focusing on him spoke first, with a strong expression. Foreign accent, "But before I do that, I want to make it clear that all the equipment I have is obtained by my own hard work, not by some despicable means."
"Uh-huh," Simon became interested and turned around and shouted to the waitress who was refilling the customers' drinks, "We want one more beer, four beers."
"Well, that's right," the stranger saw Simon inviting him to drink. He smiled and started talking, "My name is Gabriel. I come from England. I am a mercenary, or a former mercenary. I used to As a cavalryman, follow the famous Oder River Free Mercenary Group to conquer all directions. Wherever there is war and lords willing to pay us, we will be there..."
"Gentlemen, I'm sorry to interrupt you, this is your wine." The tavern maid holding the tray placed four glasses of beer in front of the four of them, smiled, and then left.
"It's great," Gabriel took a sip of beer and continued with a smack, "I have been to many places and killed countless enemies with my best friend Danny, whether they were Frank's elite Crossbowmen, or Baltic hussars, or Byzantine military infantry.”
"Then why are you here alone now? Is there an irreconcilable conflict between you and the mercenary group?" Miller was very fascinated by what he heard and couldn't help but express his doubts.
"Yes, the old mercenary leader Kirill died in a fierce battle, and a selfish guy named Simeon took over his position. This new leader always hides at the back Let us fight life and death at the front, but after the battle, most of the spoils were obtained by him and his accomplices. In short, the Oder River Free Mercenary Group is falling apart. I really can't bear it, and finally a few days ago When they marched westward through Berg County, they broke away from the team and temporarily rested in this small village."
