At this time, there was no such thing as "chivalry", and no one proposed various moral codes that knights should abide by. In everyone's eyes, the knight class was just a group of low-level nobles who were able to afford horses and equipment.
"This shameful hypocrite Sir Alger has insulted me and my family in front of me more than once. Today, taking this opportunity, in the arena, in front of the holy God, I must do it for myself and my family. Honor and break up with him, the price is our lives, either he dies or I die!" Sir Grobber spread his hands with a ferocious expression and shouted loudly with a voice as rough as ore, as if he wanted to untie those The "misunderstanding" of the booing audience.
The audience supporting Sir Grobber cheered even more fiercely, while those who booed except for a few people who were still shouting obscenities, had no sound or movement.
The news that Sir Grobber had defeated his opponent and trampled him to death under the hooves of a horse quickly spread throughout Dresden, but people only regarded this incident as a topic of conversation after dinner.
Most people are indifferent to this. After all, this is a matter for the nobles and is too far away from their miserable lives. God knows if there was some monstrous personal grudge or family feud between the two of them.
After all, those two knights were not local nobles. The common people in Dresden had no way to know about them and were not interested in knowing about them.
There were even guys who had heard about Sir Alger's deeds before, and they scolded Sir Alger without any scruples, calling him what kind of knight he was, calling him a weakling, and gave the bard a lot of shady money to package himself up. The waste knight.
Anyway, Sir Alger is dead and is now being pulled into a carriage by his servants back to the Principality of Normandy. Revenge cannot be avenged on these talkative guys.
The game in the morning was basically over, and the spectators who had watched it all left the field one after another, either going home or going back to the pub to enjoy their lunch. They talked to each other about the handsome appearance and superb skills of the winners of each game.
As for those knights who lost their equipment, ransom, or even their lives because of failure, who cares?
It is better to talk about the attraction of those unlucky people than to talk about the poor man who was tricked by the black-hearted miller by the river, or about the young and beautiful wife of the lucky old carpenter in the town who had an affair with a gentleman.
Simon and his party returned to the tavern.
The sun is shining brightly at noon today, and the warm sun bakes every inch of the place it hits, making people sweat a lot.
Many townspeople rolled up their sleeves, revealing their elbows which were cleaner than the black hands - at least Simon could see it from the layer of filthy pulp on those elbows that had become so hard that it was dry and cracked. Their original red and white skin color.
Simon opened the door of the tavern, and a strong stench composed of feces, urine, sweat, and vomit mixed with fermentation in the sweltering heat immediately hit his face, making him have the urge to close the door and leave.
"Simon, this way!" Comnenus saw the familiar figure at the door at a glance, holding up a wooden wine glass and shouting at the door of the tavern.
"How's it going? Have you settled your comrade's funeral?" Simon squeezed past the smelly drinkers and came to Komnenos' table. He took off the sword from his waist and handed it to the fat man, holding the lock. A's clothes sat down.
"Everything has been taken care of. May he live happily in heaven." Komnenos took a sip of fruit wine and said calmly. It seemed that he had gotten over the sadness and pain of the past few days.
"What do you want to do after you have thought about it? Do you want to return to your family territory in the Roman Empire?" Simon raised his head and looked at Comnenus's big brown eyes and said.
"I don't know. Since my family abandoned me on the slave ship, I don't expect anything good to come back." Komnenos shook his head in frustration and sighed.
"Then you have to find something to do, right? Be a caravan guard, a private soldier, a sailor, or a mercenary?"
"Mercenaries. You know, although nobles often rely on mercenaries when fighting, they always look down on the lowly blood of mercenaries. Therefore, there must be one or two nobles in a mercenary team. A guy of blood can bridge the gap and act as a middleman, maybe I can do this." Komneno held his chin and said thoughtfully.
"If you have decided to take this path, I guess I have to say, I wish you the same good luck as Gabriel!" Simon smiled and patted Komnenos on the shoulder, who said Confused.
Seeing Komnenos' dull look, Simon had no choice but to tell the story of Gabriel, the lucky guy who had been working as a mercenary for so many years but was still alive.
"Simon!" Regel, who was drinking by the door, changed his expression after his little attendant came to him and whispered something in his ear. He strode towards the wine table, "Simon, what I just got News, your opponent this afternoon is that damn Sir Grobber!"
"Oh?" Simon put down his wine glass with a surprised look on his face.
"Oh, my God, my good brother Simon, are you sure you can kill him? You know, if you lose, I bet this guy will do the same cruel thing to you as he did to Sir Alger. Something!" Regel's face was full of anxiety and worry, which was even more anxious than letting him know that he had to fight Sir Globo in a duel.
"Don't worry about Regel, sit down and have a drink and leave all these troubles to God to decide." Simon smiled unusually and raised his glass to Regel.
………………
Thick morning mist filled the vast black forest, and the surface of the vegetation was covered with white frost and dew.
A long dirt road in the forest stretches crookedly as far as the eye can see, and the active chirping of birds on the roadside seems to be singing melodious hymns.
Suddenly, a rumble of horse hooves broke the tranquility of this dirt road in the forest.
The leader was a fat man wearing a decorated Norman helmet on his head, an armor lining, a long-sleeved mail coat, a heraldic robe with a green background and an elk antler pattern, and leather gloves on his hands.
I saw him riding a beautiful white horse, holding a spear in his hand high on the stirrup. The bright square heraldic flag on the top of the spear was fluttering in the morning wind. With.
"Fat man, what's going on ahead?" Simon, who was riding Lucky at the back, asked loudly to the fat man riding at the front.
"No, young master, even if there are any small bandits, they will probably be scared away by our heraldic flag." The fat man replied confidently.
Simon and his party were on their way back from Dresden to the village of Verde.
At the front was the fat man riding the horse he bought from Baron Carl, followed by Simon who was riding "Lucky", then Miller and Pedi who were riding the pack horse carrying the loot and luggage, and finally there was riding the horse "Lucky". Gabriel of his own black charger.
A high-spirited lord and four well-equipped cavalrymen wearing bright heraldic robes are enough to deter thieves of all sizes along the way, unless they have prepared a trip rope in the middle of the road in advance, but that It will alarm the slowly moving caravan from a distance, allowing the "prey" to prepare for the attack in advance, and the gain outweighs the loss.
The chain mail Simon is wearing now is more exquisite and stronger than the one his father gave him at the canonization ceremony. The only flaw is that the iron ring used in a place on the shoulder of this chain mail suit is obviously very new and looks very new. Somewhat abrupt.
This was a trophy Simon obtained when he defeated a knight from the wealthy territory of the Principality of Bavaria during the tourney. However, the lance pierced the mail on his shoulder and caused damage, so Simon later gave the mail to Dresden. He went to the blacksmith shop in the town and asked the blacksmith to repair it.
In addition, Simon also rushed to customize four heraldic robes and a square flag at a tailor shop in the city. Fortunately, the Simon family's heraldic pattern is not complicated, so it did not take too much time.
As for Simon's previous set of equipment, when Simon lost the game against his third opponent, he handed it over as a trophy to the knight who defeated him, and also handed over a ransom equal to his worth.
But Simon didn't care.
The ransom he paid for that game was only a small part of the ransom he received for winning the previous game. The previous set of mail had now been replaced by the better set of mail belonging to the unlucky Bavarian.
As for the visor that belonged to Sir Linton, although it was a pity to hand it over, Simon got the visor from the arrogant Sir Globber without any loss or profit.
Speaking of the arrogant and bloodthirsty Sir Grobber, he really brought it upon himself to die.
He first made the same move as he did in the first match against Sir Alger before the game, not shaking hands with Simon.
Not only that, but then this guy with a strong sense of superiority first loudly insulted Simon, and then the conversation changed and he questioned the royal clerk, saying that he was unfair and how could he compare this low-blooded country bumpkin knight with him? The Duke's inner palace knight, who was of noble blood, arranged for a match, which caused a lot of boos.
After the game started, Sir Grobber confidently raised the head of his lance and wanted to pierce Simon's throat with a shot, but his trick was exposed by Simon. Simon not only avoided the fatal blow, but also shot his own The lance struck the heart of Sir Grobber's shield.
But what Simon didn't expect was that in addition to the sound of the lance breaking and the shield hitting, there was also a crisp snapping sound of fractures, followed closely by the painful wail of Sir Grobber, who had just been arrogant.
This was the result that even God himself could not change. Witnessed by the entire audience, Sir Grobber was defeated.
Many nobles and people who saw Sir Grober's displeasure burst into enthusiastic cheers and applause, shouting Simon's name loudly. Even Prince Otto and King Heinrich looked at them with smiles on their faces.
But Simon still noticed that not far from the king, the face of the Duke of Franconia was as ugly as if he had just eaten a few flies.
Although it was only a small matter for the Duke of Franconia that his inner knight was defeated after making such nonsense, Simon still cautiously reminded himself to be more careful.
After the tournament, Regel, who was defeated in the first round and lost all his equipment, had to discuss with Simon whether he could take him to Rothenburg along the way, where someone from his family would support him. he.
Komnenos and his other comrade named Alexander joined a mercenary group that temporarily settled in Dresden to rest and started their new life.
As for Pedi, he originally planned to join a caravan heading to Kievan Rus after the tournament, but he really couldn't resist Simon's warm invitation, and finally agreed to go with Simon to the village of Verde, so that Simon and his party would have more people. A good fighter will be safer on the road.
"I've been away from Fold Village for so long, I really don't know what it's like there now." Simon thought expectantly, turning back to look at the piles of trophies carried on the pack horses under Miller and Pedi's crotches, and smiled slightly The corner of his mouth curled up.
