When Simon and his party arrived at Wenden Village in the western border of Frankfurt, the fog had dissipated. The bright sunshine drove away the remaining chill from last night and brought some warmth to the guys who were all wet.
This is the charming hilly area in the south-central part of the German Kingdom. The caress of late autumn has made the branches of the trees on both sides of the road become a little bare, and the golden fallen leaves are spread on the still green grass.
"Lord Simon, ahead is the village of Winden where the grapes have not yet been harvested!" In front of the team was a caravan guard with disheveled hair and a tired face, wearing damaged leather armor with dried blood, and trousers and cloth shoes stained with mud. his hoarse voice shouted.
A small village surrounded by sharp wood appeared among the beautiful hills like an oil painting. An unknown river flowed quietly next to the village.
Beside the sharp wooden fence of the village, there are dots of simple half-ground wooden huts. The land next to the huts is surrounded by short rattan fences. It seems that they belong to free farmers. of private land.
Simon saw two women wearing women's turbans and simple linen skirts holding their infant babies chatting happily next to a small wooden house with ivy growing on the outer wall.
In the fields not far from them, several farmers wearing long linen robes and belts around their waists were chatting and laughing, holding wooden bowls and sitting under the big trees next to the fields while eating the oatmeal paste sent by their women. .
Under the vigilant gaze of the villagers, Simon and his party followed the winding dirt road to the wooden gate of Wenden Village.
Simon noticed that in front of the small gatehouse, two militiamen wearing old leather turbans on their heads, wearing mildew-spotted armed uniforms, and dirty leather gloves nervously clenched the oak spears in their hands and did not move. He walked to the wooden door seductively, blocking the somewhat narrow entrance.
However, after the fat man explained his purpose, they were obviously relieved and moved out of the way. They pointed at the small hill with rows of neatly planted grape vines not far from the village, indicating that that was what Simon was looking for. vineyard.
Simon and his party entered Wenden Village through the narrow wooden door. Several villagers wearing hoods and patched thin linen clothes on the side of the road were walking slowly with large bundles of hay on their backs. Head, curiously looking at this caravan that looked like it had experienced a battle not long ago.
When you first enter the village, there is a tavern on your right. It was still time for the villagers to work, and the long tables and benches outside the tavern were empty, with no one around.
"Let's rest in this village for the night." Simon turned to the businessman Aubrey and said. After such a fierce battle, everyone was in urgent need of a hot and nutritious meal and a decent place to rest.
"Miller, go and arrange the room where we will stay tonight. Fatty and I will go to the vineyard now." Simon gave instructions and rode the horse back to the main road with Fatty.
Wenden Village is not much different from villages elsewhere. If there were, in addition to the farmers carrying farm tools, there were also many workers carrying branches and hay on their backs, or carrying barrels filled with lime paste.
Sure enough, after Simon rode forward for a short while, he saw a house under construction. At this time, the house only had a frame made of wood, and two carpenters with sawdust stuck to their clothes were using hard wooden hammers to drive rivets at the connection between the two pieces of wood.
"Oh, Kent, you slow lazy guy is finally here!" The weaver wearing a white turban and yellow loose robe looked dissatisfied at a brown curly-haired worker carrying a basket full of hazel branches. .
The brown curly-haired worker named Kent dumped all the branches in his basket at the weaver's feet, and then walked listlessly toward the village gate.
"This damn lazy idiot..." the weaver muttered and complained, pulled up a small wooden chair, sat down, picked up the hazel wicker, and weaved the walls of the house on the already riveted frame.
Next to the weaver, the plasterer carrying a wooden bucket filled with lime mortar was applying lime on the woven wicker.
"Be careful, you clumsy idiot!" The painter's head was suddenly hit by a large bale of hay. He dropped the barrel angrily and pointed to a man wearing a gray shirt who was laying the roof cover. said the house builder.
"Is this the vineyard?" Simon looked at the large grape vines surrounded by fences next to the house under construction. Many of the grapes hanging on the vines were shriveled, and there were some whitish fruits attached to the grape skins. Botrytis.
Simon knew that at this time, the botrytis hyphae had penetrated the grape skins and absorbed the moisture and sugar inside the grapes. After such dehydration, the sugar content inside the grapes that look shriveled and rotten actually becomes more concentrated.
Therefore, in the eyes of others, these grapes are rotten and worthless, but in Simon's eyes, they are simply treasures.
Fortunately, many grape bunches have more deeply withered berries. This means that Simon can make more precious botrytis wines from grapes with very low moisture content that meet the requirements.
We must know that in later generations, some manors that specialize in producing wine grapes used to make noble rot wine may even have no harvest in some years with poor harvests.
"That's right, but they seem to be building a winery for this vineyard." The fat man said, clasping his hands in thought.
"Really?" Simon looked at the structure of this house carefully and found that it was indeed similar to the structure of most workshops he had seen. "Anyway, let's find someone who knows the situation first to inquire."
Just as Simon and the Fat Man rode around the house looking for someone in charge, a priest wearing a large black robe and holding a parchment in his hand and another guy in bright clothes who looked like a stonemason came from the church not far away. Walking along while talking.
"Hey, dear priest," the fat man immediately nuzzled the horse's belly and hurried forward, "My young master wants to visit the vineyard. Who is in charge here?"
"What?" The white-bearded priest wearing a black turban and the rosy-faced stonemason next to him raised their heads at the same time, with doubts on their faces.
"Oh, this young knight, the village of Wenden is under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Frankfurt, Frederick, but he went to Mainz some time ago, so now I am in charge here." The wrinkled white-bearded priest looked at Simon, who was behind the fat man, paused and continued.
"I believe you have just seen the scene in the vineyard through the fence. Without the order of the bishop, even if the fresh grapes become moldy and rot on the trees, we do not dare to ask workers to pick them without authorization. If you If you are here to visit or purchase grapes, I am afraid you will be disappointed."
"Actually, I came here to buy grapes." Simon pressed his hand to the fat man, telling him to be quiet. "But when I went to Trier, I discovered that the grapes in all the nearby places had already been harvested. And it was sold to caravans or transported to breweries.”
"You are right, young knight. If it weren't for the strict regulations imposed by the Bishop, you might not even be able to see these rotten grapes." The white-bearded priest nodded, but still looked at him with confusion. Simon.
"I heard in Trier that the grapes in Winden Village have not been harvested yet. I wanted to try my luck, but I didn't expect that they were all rotten." Simon looked at the neat rows of grape vines and sighed. .
"Oh, it's really troublesome for you to come all the way here." Father Whitebeard shook his head helplessly, seeming to feel sorry for Simon's "useless efforts".
"However, I have always been a devout Christian. If my guess is correct, no businessman will be willing to buy these rotten grapes, but I cannot bear to suffer such a big loss to the church I admire most. , so I decided that I would purchase these rotten grapes as a small and insignificant contribution to God.”
The priest and the mason next to him had incredible expressions on their faces, and they looked at Simon in great surprise. Even the parchment in the priest's hand was unsteady and almost fell to the ground full of feces and mud.
"Je, dear Sir, may I ask what your name is?" It took the priest a while to recover, and he blinked his dry eyes. His voice even trembled with excitement when he asked Simon.
"Simon von Dorsten." Simon said calmly with no expression on his face.
But in Simon's heart, he was simply overjoyed at this moment - he had not only bought excellent wine grapes for making noble rot wine, but also made himself a good name. It was really killing two birds with one stone, it was wonderful.
"Sorry, Mr. Hillier, you should go check on the progress first. I'm afraid I'll have to come back later," the white-bearded priest smiled and handed the parchment in his hand to the stonemason next to him who had not yet reacted. "Pious Sir Simon, please come with me and I will show you our church and vineyards."
………………
It turns out that, just as the guy in Koblenz said, a few weeks ago the priest of Winden Village sent a clever monk and militiamen from two villages to Mainz to ask the bishop for instructions on the grape harvest. Something happened.
According to the priest, those bandits in the mountains and forests were just astray. Unless they were possessed by the devil, they would not be so mad as to rob and kill God's servants.
They had almost never been harassed by bandits every time they traveled before, but this time they didn't know what happened. The monks and two militiamen who went out to deliver the letter did not receive any news for half a month.
Just when they were still discussing whether to send another monk and more militiamen to go to Mainz to find the bishop, and to investigate what happened to the previous monks, the pious Simon who happened to be going to Mainz The group arrived at Wenden Village.
"It all happened by chance. I believe it must be God's arrangement," the priest said when he got excited, speaking very fast and spitting.
Therefore, Simon promised the old priest that he would deliver a letter to the Bishop of Frankfurt when he arrived in Mainz.
When the bishop's reply is sent back to Wenden Village, the old priest will immediately organize people to pick the grapes and hire caravan guards to send them to the north of Verde Village.
