Simon and his party and the merchant's horse team simply camped next to the river next to the village.
It was noon, and a small bonfire was set up on the bank of the river. Next to the bonfire was a black pot that had already boiled the water in the pot. At this time, the fat man was busy putting ingredients into the pot, and the stew pot, which originally had only clear and light river water, suddenly became a little lively and crowded.
Next to Simon's small camp is the camp of the cowardly businessman. There are five caravan guards in his cavalry. After all, they have traveled around with the merchants for a long time. They basically have a set of scale armor or mail armor, and a helmet or leather hat that looks pretty sturdy. At this moment, the five caravan guards were scattered behind the bushes in the forest near the camp intentionally or unintentionally, drinking water slowly, chewing black bread carefully, and watching their surroundings.
The timid businessman spent two copper coins in exchange for some fresh parsnips, beets and onions from the villagers to improve the taste of his men.
"Master, I brought you some apples." Miller used a piece of dirty and torn linen to carry a few apples of different fat and thin sizes, and placed them next to the bonfire.
Because in traditional concepts, nobles generally tend to eat fruits that grow on trees, foods that are said to be closer to God, instead of eating foods such as parsnips and onions that grow in the soil. That's why the fat man just asked Miller to exchange for some apples.
"Wash the apples and bake them next to the campfire." Simon felt nauseated when he saw the rag wrapped in the apples.
"Gabriel, have you ever been to Trier?" Simon sat on the stone next to the campfire, wiping his beloved sword.
"No, but I have been to Mainz further south," Gabriel shook his head, "But sir, I think the little guy over there should know it very well."
"Oh?" Simon turned his head and immediately saw the young man who was very conspicuous in the bonfire of the merchant team. At this time, the little boy didn't know what story he was telling, which fascinated the timid businessman and other boys.
"Hey!" Fatty shouted to the merchant camp not far away, "That little guy, yes, that's right, stop looking around, it's you, come here!"
The little boy scratched his head in confusion, stood up nervously and fearfully, and walked over slowly.
Simon looked at this guy. He seemed to be only fifteen or sixteen years old. He had a runny nose, wore a turban with several patches, and the linen clothes he wore were a little thin in the cool weather.
"What's your name?" Simon asked while cleaning his sword.
"Sir, Sir, my name is Dyson." The young boy was obviously frightened by Simon's behavior of wiping his sword. He made random guesses about where he had offended Simon. He was extremely frightened, fearing that Simon would use the sword to wipe it in the next second. The sharp sword pierced his chest.
"Oh, Dyson," Simon said, perhaps realizing that cleaning the sword frightened the little boy, he put the sword back into its scabbard and tried to show a kind smile, "I want to know something about Trier, can you give me some information?" Shall we talk?”
"Of course, Sir, Trier..." Dyson's voice was a little low and stuttered. He was completely different from the humorous and talkative person before. It seemed that he was still a little afraid of the nobleman in front of him.
"Hey, don't be nervous. You are just like an old witch who is used to murmuring in a dark corner all day long. She was pulled out to say Mass for everyone in the sun! My child, relax." Simon rubbed his hands helplessly. Rub your temples.
"Hahahahaha, okay sir," Dyson laughed at Simon's strange metaphor. He laughed for a while before he recovered. "I have followed the caravan to Trier several times. It is a city with a long history. City……"
It turns out that Koblenz in the Earl of Trier is almost one of the oldest cities in Germany. Legend has it that it was founded before the birth of Jesus. In addition, Trier is the earliest Christian diocese in the north of the Alps, and the words of the Archbishop of Trier are quite weighty.
Trier is rich in grapes. When Dyson said this, Simon became more active and thought that he might be able to buy a batch of high-quality grapes and have them sent to the village of Verde for the old winemaker and Alice to make wine.
However, after asking Dyson, Simon's burning heart quickly cooled down. It is already the late stage of grape ripening and harvesting. Unless there are special circumstances, the grapes in those territories have basically been harvested, or they have been crushed and fermented in large wooden basins in local wineries.
At this moment, the sound of horse hooves could be faintly heard from the road in the distance, and occasionally the creak of a carriage could be heard.
"What's the sound?" Simon put on his Norman helmet again, pulled out his dagger from his waist, and looked in the direction of the sound from a distance.
Fatty, Gabriel and Miller also took off their shields from their backs as a reflex and drew out their short hammers and hatchets.
"Master, the voice doesn't sound like a horse bandit." Gabriel was a little confused.
"Look, it's a tax collector and soldiers from Cologne!" Miller pointed at the men and horses going downhill on the slope and said.
"It's a false alarm." Simon and his group put away their equipment, but still looked at the soldiers warily - no one could guarantee whether the tax collectors and soldiers were disguised as gangsters.
At this time, no one noticed that in the team of timid merchants, a man with an unnatural face quietly retreated and hid in the dense woods nearby.
After the tax collector and the soldiers arrived in the village, Simon and his party basically no longer had any doubts. They saw the tax collector instructing the soldiers to move a small wooden table and a small bench from the back of the carriage. Then the tax official took several sheepskins. Paper and pen and ink were placed on the table. Then, a soldier rang the bell urgently.
"Sir, the farmers here are also quite pitiful. In addition to paying tithes, they also have to be levied a large amount of tax because they live on the church's land." Young boy Dyson sighed, It seems to recall his miserable childhood under the rule of a greedy feudal bishop.
………
After lunch, Simon and his party continued on the road. After passing through a large dense forest, Simon entered a hilly area.
Simon often sees large areas of cultivated fields on the gentle slopes on both sides of the road, as well as farmers working in them. In addition, on many gentle slopes, in addition to grape trellises that have become bare with only a few leaves and vine branches after harvesting, there are also some pens used to raise horses, cattle and sheep.
Occasionally, Simon would pass by some large and small caravans. The size of the larger caravan is not that impressive, it just has more carriages, men, merchants and guards.
Even after entering Trier from the north, Simon encountered a group of troops coming from the north and south to attack the Count of Luxembourg.
The noble who led the team was a baron from the Duchy of Lower Lorraine. He seemed to be the military commander of some earl's court. The noble seemed to be in a hurry and didn't recognize Simon's coat of arms, but he still said hello to Simon, that's all.
Immediately behind the noble were knights wearing robes and mail and face-covered helmets, and riding horses wearing vests and camisole. Behind them were a group of knights holding brightly colored coats of arms in various styles. Squires with flags and guns.
The equipment of the private soldiers of the nobles following the attendants was very mixed. Some wore mail armor but only wore a shabby leather hooded cap on their heads, and some wore segmented iron helmets but only wore a dirty and torn Cotton armor. Most of them held spears in their hands, hatchets or hammers on their waists, and shields on their backs. They were now trudging on the muddy road.
And behind these noble private soldiers were basically peasant soldiers with all kinds of weapons. Somewhat different from the peasants and soldiers led by Baron Iser during the war, these poor guys looked even more embarrassed and shabby - many of them were barefoot, wearing thin and worn linen clothes, and most of them only had long rifles in their hands. Sticks and sticks.
"Sir, I just made inquiries. This is the army of Count Adalbert, the lord of Lorraine, Metz, and Saarbrücken." Gabriel said in Simon's ear.
"What's a bit confusing is that this place is obviously closer to the rich and developed south than Baron Iser and Baron Arnhem, but it seems that the equipment is not as good as Baron Iser and the others." Simon narrowed his eyes in confusion and thought. .
"Sir, since the Kingdom of Lotharingia fell apart and was divided into the two principalities of Upper Lorraine and Lower Lorraine, this land has been in constant war. Many people, including the nobles, have lived a more difficult life than in other places. "Gabriel said slowly.
"Yes, Sir, although the residents living in Cologne and Trier have to endure some high taxes, it is undeniable that because they live on the land of the church, their lives are better than those in several nearby territories. We all want to be safe and prosperous." The talkative young man Dyson also chimed in.
"That's it." Simon suddenly realized. It turned out that it was for this reason that the scenes he saw along the way were so peaceful and peaceful.
According to Gabriel, if this group of soldiers hadn't been preparing to attack the Earl of Luxembourg's rear wing through Dauterier, Simon might not have seen any nobles leading the army along the way.
After climbing another hill, the city of Koblenz built along the river appeared in front of Simon and the others.
"Let's go, we'll be repairing in the city tonight." Looking at the prosperous small city in front of him surrounded by tall and broken ancient Roman walls, Simon turned his head and said to the fat man.
"Hey, I can't wait to take a bath in the bathhouse left in ancient Rome." Miller felt a little thirsty, took out the kettle and took a sip of ale, smacking his lips.
"I think you are obsessed with the bathing girls in the bathhouse, haha!" Gabrielle joked. In this era, many female workers in bathhouses were engaged in this ancient profession, so everyone regarded bathhouses as a place of lewdness and romance.
