"Father, I think you are going to build a winery?" After Simon visited the small grape plantation, he followed the priest back to the house under construction outside the fence.
Hillier, the rosy-faced stonemason, was holding parchment and supervising the work of the workers who were performing their duties. Some farmers wearing tattered felt hats and carrying farm tools back to the village from the fields muttered and walked around the road blocked by various building materials towards their warm huts.
“Yes, originally we would transport the picked grapes to the historic winery in the town of Katzenernbogen, and then send people to transport them back after they turn the fresh grapes into mellow wine. "
"Oh, is it because the current winery has cut corners that you have changed your mind and want to build your own winery?" Simon turned his head curiously and looked at the priest who was still immersed in the joy of selling rotten grapes. .
"This is part of the reason. The most important thing is that the past few years have not been peaceful. There have been more highway robbers near the road from Winden Village to Katzen Ernbogen Town. We have lost several carts of grapes and wine. In addition, the bishop intends to open up the wasteland near Wenden Village and expand the planting of wine grapes. Therefore, no matter from which point of view, it is urgent to build a new winery of our own in Wenden Village." The priest said as he spoke. Hood removed. He had just led Simon and Fatty around the church and vineyards under the scorching sun, and his head was covered with sweat.
"I see." Simon said, stroking his beard that had not been trimmed for a long time.
When he was in the church just now, the priest asked a monk to get a quill and ink, and wrote a letter to the bishop of Frankfurt, hoping that Simon could send it to the bishop. In this way, the bishop can issue instructions for harvesting grapes and deal with the issues that the priest in Wenden Village cannot do.
According to the priest, the bishop was invited by the Bishop of Mainz to attend a meeting in Mainz. However, it is not yet known what happened that caused the bishop to not return until now.
"Have a good rest tonight, and we will leave for Mainz early tomorrow morning." Simon said to the fat man on the way back to the hotel.
Simon just wants these precious grapes to return to the winery in Verde Village as soon as possible and turn them into noble rot wine as precious as gold.
But Simon could also imagine the surprised expressions on Alice's and the old winemaker's faces when they saw the "rotten" batch of wine grapes and received the message from the courier.
The sky was getting dark and night was approaching. A kind old couple used wooden sticks to drive their mud-covered piglets back to their house from under the big oak tree at the edge of the village. At the same time, not far away The mottled wooden door of the earth-timber hut was suddenly opened, and a slightly worried woman was calling loudly to her child, asking him to go home quickly.
Not long after the sun set, the streets became quiet, with only the crackling sound of torches made of animal fat stuck in the arrow tower next to the village's sharp wooden wall.
Occasionally, the night watchman holding a torch wakes up the black dog lying down and resting in front of the hut, and the barking of the dog that follows will echo throughout this small village.
The cold wind of the autumn night blows away the leaves, taking with it the wonderful chorus of cicadas on the summer night. This made the bustling woods around the village, where hundreds of insects were buzzing two months ago, seem a bit deserted.
The lonely curly-bearded night watchman had the illusion that there was nothing else in this world shrouded in endless darkness except him and the torch in his hand. However, he immediately shook his head, sobering up and cheering up. Shivering, he kept breathing heat towards his hands, which were so frozen that he could no longer feel anything.
In the quiet night, Erato, the graceful and dignified goddess of ballads, was playing her lyre decorated with a bull's head, indulgently and quietly, and time seemed to be frozen in this moment forever.
After an unknown amount of time, an eagle, exhausted from soaring under the moonlight, roared loudly and returned to the embrace of the forest mother.
The tired falcon found a hairy beech as tall as a Cyclops, rested on its thick branch, tilted its head and looked at the first dawn on the distant horizon.
When the first ray of sunrise breaks through the shackles and returns to this beautiful land, the trees are already filled with the songs and laughter of early birds.
At this time, on a path in the forest not far south of Wenden Village, the slow sound of horse hooves and the creaking of wooden wheels could be heard faintly.
"Hahu."
Walking at the front of the caravan was the caravan guard Peidi. This young and clever young man looked like he had not had a good rest last night. He just yawned and rubbed his hazy sleepy eyes.
After the last sudden attack, these caravan guards and guys, who had been worn down by their usual peaceful journey, were alert and alert. They tried their best to open their eyes wide and scan the bushes on the roadside, for fear that there would be another one inside. Life-threatening arrows will fly out, causing them to lose their lives inexplicably.
The guys looked more energetic and confident after putting on the armor Aubrey lent them. Thin cotton armor and armor cannot give them enough sense of security, but if they add a leather studded helmet or a leather vest, it will be another matter.
In this way, a group of caravans that would make any small or medium-sized robber group put away their claws in anger after seeing it, marched steadily through the forests, hills, and plains, heading resolutely towards their destination - Mainz.
The journey is always boring, except for the lively little guy Dyson who has recovered from the brutal battle to enliven the atmosphere. Simon, Fatty and Gabriel will practice swordsmanship and learn from each other during the rest of the camp.
You must know that in this chaotic era, a strong martial arts is the ability for a knight to settle down and live in peace. Simon does not want to let it get rusty until one day he capsizes in a sewer and is doomed.
"Set up camp here tonight." Simon looked at the fiery sunset on the horizon, took a sip of wine to moisten his dry throat, dismounted and tied the reins to an oak tree on the edge of a clearing by the stream.
"It's time to work, it's time to work, guys!" A gust of cold wind blew by, and the businessman Aubrey got off his horse, hunched his neck, and shouted loudly while clapping his hands.
The helmeted men and caravan guards took off the dirty Norman helmets and battle-scarred studded leather helmets on their heads, and placed them under a large oak tree at the edge of the clearing. Two caravan guards carrying shields and spears piled their dented shields and curved spears against the tree next to their helmets.
Next, the guys skillfully took out various tools from the open wooden carriage at the end of the team. Two guys carried wooden baskets and went to collect firewood nearby. One guy took the iron pot and ingredients to the stream, and several guys put a large roll of dirty blankets covered with broken grass roots on a pile of dry leaves. After placing the leaves on the leaves, he went to the stream to move stones and prepared to build a simple campfire.
"Hey, Gerson, you stupid pig, tonight everyone will taste what your urine tastes like!" The brown-backed, curly-cheeked caravan man was holding an iron pot and squatting by the biting cold stream to draw water. The waiter suddenly saw not far upstream of the stream, a guard from the Jianjiaohu caravan untied his pants, and then a thick yellow stream mixed into the clear stream.
"Why don't you get out!?" When the caravan guard saw the caravan guard, the caravan man with a curly beard turned his head and glanced at him, shook his crotch as if provocatively, and then put on his pants. , I was so angry that I almost wanted to castrate this stupid idiot.
"Fat Man and Miller, you two go to build a bonfire and prepare dinner. Gabriel and I will make some gestures." Simon took off the tall decorated Norman helmet and hung it next to the saddle, and then took off the helmet given to him by Baron Wolfe. He put his wolfskin cloak on the saddle, touched the sword at his waist and walked towards the large open space on the edge of the camp.
"Here I come, Master Simon." Gabriel tied up his black horse, took off his segmented dome helmet, tightened the ties of his leather turban, and followed Simon.
"Bang!"
With the crisp sound of an iron sword being unsheathed, the eyes of all the working men and caravan guards unknowingly focused on the two of them.
"Dang, Dang, Dang!"
Before anyone could react, Simon had already attacked Gabriel, who had just drawn his sword, from several cunning and vicious angles.
However, after the initial unpreparedness and panic, Gabriel was able to fend off all Simon's attacks with some difficulty.
"That's right, if it hadn't been for a while, you wouldn't have had the chance to stand here intact and spar with me as you are now." The corners of Simon's mouth raised slightly, he took a step back, and held the sword in his hand again.
"Master, your attack is very sharp. I bet that if a veteran who has been fighting for many years in the war had not stood in front of you to take the attack, the unlucky guy who was fighting against you would have been killed easily. If the limb is too heavy, you will die!" Gabriel broke out in a cold sweat, feeling that Simon's swordsmanship has improved rapidly in recent times.
Simon didn't say anything, just licked his dry lips.
It turns out that the biological father of this body, Baron Coother, was a nobleman who made his fortune with his sword on the battlefield. As the son of such a well-known warrior, Simon has developed a strong interest in swordsmanship since he was a child. Even the boring practice day after day can make little Simon enjoy it endlessly. Therefore, before Simon traveled to this world, the original owner of this body was already relatively good at swordsmanship.
The time Simon had just traveled through time did not fit the original owner's body so well. He wielded his sword like an idiot with no strength, slashing randomly. But with Simon's long-term adaptation and practice, he has now returned to the same level as the original owner before the time travel, or even further.
"Sir, I'm a little surprised that you just had a move where you raised your sword above your head and slashed straight down. I've only seen it on knights and swordsmen from the Kingdom of Italy in the south. Have you ever gone there to learn swordsmanship?" Gabri El adjusted his somewhat messy clothes and expressed his doubts.
"No, I learned this from a stonemason who went to a place where Italian was spoken." Simon laughed heartily, and the scene of the sparring between the stonemason Ryan and the fat man in Fort Ford that day came to mind again. middle.
