"Well...besides this potion, are there any other potions?"
"Of course, Sir, I also have calendula potions here to treat inflammation, energy potions to resist drowsiness, anesthetic potions for bloodletting, and antidote potions to treat food poisoning and water poisoning. They are all the same as the owl potions just now. The same, prepared according to strict formula and precise proportions.”
The old pharmacist said, pointing to each pottery bottle with strange symbols painted on it and introducing them to Simon one by one.
Among them, Simon was most interested in the calendula potion.
Simon had heard in his previous life that marigold flowers and leaves were made into ointments or essential oils, which could be used to treat skin diseases, shallow wounds or sprains.
Internal potions made from calendula can be used to treat internal inflammation, prevent chronic infections and plague.
Calendula was one of the most versatile herbs during the Middle Ages.
"My calendula medicine is different from other pharmacists. I add a small amount of nettle to the medicine, which can not only treat inflammation, but also relieve the patient's pain."
"Very good." Simon stroked his beard, looking at these precious potions, his mind became active.
Simon knew that the war between Earl Berg and Earl Loon would be inevitable after spring. If nothing else happened, his own army would be drafted and he would go on an expedition with his father.
The alcohol sterilization bandaging method brought by Simon from later generations cannot 100% prevent wound infection and inflammation, but combined with the calendula medicine prepared by the pharmacist, it can at least save the lives of the soldiers to a large extent.
In addition, Simon believes that the owl potion that enhances night vision and the energy potion that resists drowsiness in the old pharmacist's hands are very practical and may play an unexpected role in war.
But if we just buy a batch of medicine this time to prepare for the war in the spring, and if we want to replenish it after using it, I am afraid we will have to send someone to the medicine shop in Cologne City to buy it.
In the long run, it would be better to find a way to keep this pharmacist in the territory.
Even if someone in the territory gets sick in the future, or there is a plague, there will at least be a professional to solve the problem, instead of pinning all hopes on the ineffective prayers of clergy.
A pharmacist who has received family professional training, can understand Latin medical works, and can make various practical herbal medicines is much better than those "bald men" and barbers who can only induce vomiting, enema, and bloodletting.
"Where did you make these potions? I see there are no alchemy tools on your carriage." Simon thought about it and suddenly discovered this crucial question.
"Sire, I usually collect various raw materials for making potions during my travels. When I arrive in a town with an alchemy platform, I pay a small amount of money to my colleagues and borrow the alchemy platform for a period of time to make all the potions that I want to sell on my next trip. It goes back and forth. Therefore, my carriage will always only have various herbal raw materials and prepared medicines." The old pharmacist said, with a hint of helplessness in his eyes that was not easy to catch.
"So, do you want to have your own fixed residence and alchemy platform?" Simon stared closely into the old pharmacist's eyes. This is a pair of eyes that have experienced many vicissitudes of life and are full of fatigue.
"This..." The old pharmacist heard Simon's solicitation, and a glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes, but he suddenly smiled self-deprecatingly and shook his head, "Sir, of course I want to, but it's a pity that reality It’s not allowed.”
"What's your problem? If you don't mind, you can tell me."
Simon frowned, a bad premonition welling up in his heart.
Things were not as simple as he thought, but he just hoped that the cost of keeping the pharmacist would not be too high.
"Of course, Sir, this is not something unspeakable. In fact, I used to run a pharmacy with my father in the Eternal City of Rome. Although our family does not have aristocratic blood, it is because of the production of The potion is very effective and has saved the lives of many soldiers, civilians and dignitaries, so it is highly respected by all walks of life in the city of Rome."
Simon nodded slightly. From the old pharmacist's Mediterranean appearance and polite manners, it can be seen that he was indeed a person who lived and grew up in that environment.
"Our old patriarch is a learned man. He once had the honor to work in the library of the Holy See and even saved the life of Pope Stephen VII."
Having said this, the old pharmacist looked around and whispered to Simon in a low voice.
"It's funny to say that whether it's the Pope, Cardinal or monks, if someone gets sick, they won't choose vomiting treatment or bloodletting, but will secretly ask a pharmacist to see the doctor."
"At least before that incident happened, our family was living quite well. Even if medical accidents caused by irresistible factors occasionally occurred, fortunately, they could be resolved peacefully every time."
"People are subject to birth, old age, sickness and death. After the old patriarch passed away due to old age, my uncle took over his position, but not long after, Pope Stephen VII died of an assassination due to the aristocratic political group competing for interests. Since then, our family has been on a steep downward slope, with bad things happening one after another."
"The new pope is not familiar with our family, but he is close to another family of herbalists in Rome. One day, my uncle took over a noble official who was suffering from a strange disease, and he used all the available prescriptions. , but the official still didn’t get better, and my uncle could only watch him pass away."
"As soon as the noble official passed away, rumors started to spread in the city. Even a fool can smell the dirty conspiracy behind it. The general content of the rumors circulating in the city is that our family has used evil witchcraft and black magic, causing harm to people. That poor official is dead. As God is my witness, I swear we have never done anything like this!"
The old pharmacist spoke hurriedly, closed his eyes in pain, and made the sign of the cross on his chest.
"The aristocratic official's family is very prominent. He brought this matter to the Holy See and asked the new pope to seek justice for him. I heard that the new pope secretly accepted bribes and was going to punish us severely. However, the cardinal and cardinal priest He had been favored by our family and argued with reason. In the end, the Pope just decided to expel our family from Rome."
"Our family lost most of its property and had to borrow money to survive. Other family members traveled around to make a living, and many ties between relatives were severed. My father went to the Kingdom of West Francia, and I went to Lombardy. At that time, I owed a sum of money to a Jewish moneylender who was as greedy as Judah, but I didn’t expect that the debt would snowball like a snowball..."
The old pharmacist sighed, and the unconcealable disappointment appeared on his face like a withered yellow leaf in late autumn.
It seems that the painful experience of that difficult period has been deeply engraved in his bones.
"Just when I was in dire straits, I met Bruen, the leader of the caravan. He took a fancy to my ability and paid off my debt, but in exchange, I had to stay in his caravan and serve as his personal physician. , and I had to hand over half of the profits from selling medicines during the trip to him. In this way, I followed him for nearly ten years."
"This caravan leader Brun is really nothing. He just helped you pay off your debt once, but he signed such an unequal overlord's terms with you!" Simon couldn't help but feel sorry for the old pharmacist.
"Dear Sir, please don't say that. I often think back that if Mr. Brune had not repaid my debt at that time, maybe I would have been reduced to a slave because of the debt and died worthlessly in a mine. "
The old pharmacist's words were mixed with a different emotion, perhaps gratitude? Or are you glad? Simon didn't know.
"Well, no matter what you think, I won't interfere. I just want to know one thing now. Do you have the intention to stay in my territory? I can make you my court physician and provide you with a separate Residence, equipped with alchemy tools..."
Simon paused and continued: "The condition is that you have to heal me and my soldiers and prepare medicine for free. Don't worry, you won't be too tired, but you will be busy during the war. As for other times, you can get it by selling medicine All income, no matter how much, belongs to you."
"It's a very tempting offer, sir, but Mr. Brun..." the old pharmacist's voice trailed off as he spoke.
"You have guaranteed his health for ten years and paid him ten years of profits from selling medicines. Does he think that this is not enough to offset the debt he repaid for you back then!?" Simon raised his eyebrows and said in words There was a hint of sullenness.
The old pharmacist didn't speak, he just lowered his head, holding on to the rough railings on the edge of the carriage, and kept rubbing the irregular wood grain on the surface of the railings with his thumbs.
"I'm sorry, sir, because I am a person who is content with the status quo and have never encountered such an opportunity before. Therefore, I have never told Mr. Brun about leaving the caravan. I don't know what his attitude is. ." After a while, the old pharmacist explained to Simon.
"I will negotiate with Bruen personally." Simon waved his hand, turned around, and walked directly towards the brightly colored tent on the edge of the wall.
"Sir, I'll go with you." The old pharmacist hurriedly covered the bottles and cans behind the carriage with a thick black cloth, and then quickly followed Simon's pace.
"This old pharmacist is knowledgeable and talented. He values kindness very much, but he is also very timid and content with the status quo. All of this may be caused by the changes he has encountered." Simon was thinking in his mind, and unknowingly he had Came to the door of the tent.
The tent was made of red and blue cloth, with some barrels and boxes stacked next to it. The fresh snow that fell last night clung to the surface of tents and supplies like pale moss.
A young boy wearing a leather waistcoat was sitting boredly on an empty wine barrel at the door of the tent.
"Good day, my dear lord, are you here to see Mr. Brun?"
Simon didn't speak, just nodded. The boy saluted Simon and then entered the tent.
After a while, Bruen, the caravan leader with a rich face and oily hair, wearing a decorated bright yellow woolen tunic, came out with a smile on his face and greeted Simon enthusiastically.
He has all the characteristics of a shrewd businessman - sparse and white hair, eyes that are slightly squinted to reveal his sparkle, a huge aquiline nose, a perfectly trimmed mustache, and wrinkles that represent experience.
"Sir, let me do the talking." The old pharmacist behind Simon, who was originally hesitant, seemed to have made up his mind. He took a deep breath, walked up to Brune who looked puzzled, and proposed to him. The idea of staying in Verde Village.
But to Simon's surprise, Bruen, the caravan leader who seemed extremely stingy and would never let anyone go, smiled happily and gave the old pharmacist a big hug.
"My dear old man, thank you for your company for so many years! I am very happy that you can meet such a noble Lord who is willing to take you in. In fact, I have been secretly looking for a way out for you in the past two years, but most of them After hearing your backstory, the lords and merchant leaders short-sightedly rejected my introduction."
"Thank you, Bruen," the old pharmacist said, raising his hand to wipe the wet corners of his eyes, "I will never forget how you saved me from despair and helplessness, and I will never forget it. I will forget everything you have done for me!"
"Haha, old man, it's time for you to start a new life of your own. By the way, I have a gift specially prepared for you. I originally planned to give it to you when I find a lord who is willing to accept you, but I think now I can give it to you.”
"What gift?" Now it was the old pharmacist's turn to scratch his head in confusion.
"A brand new set of alchemical tools!"
………………………
The old apothecary's full name was Arthur Vipius Turia, a very typical Roman trinomial name. He told Simon that from now on he could just call him Arthur.
That night, Simon found a militia boy who was willing to try the potion and gave him the owl potion prepared by Arthuro.
Surprisingly, after about half an hour, the young man said that he could clearly feel that his night vision was enhanced.
However, because the potion contains a trace amount of belladonna toxin, the side effect is just like Asero said, the light will feel a bit burning in bright places.
But it was that night that the militiaman who was standing guard on the village wall after drinking the owl potion keenly discovered a sneaky figure in the fields outside the village.
He quickly called Miller to explain the situation. Miller took him and two other night watch militiamen to put on dark light armor, quietly opened the wooden door at the entrance of the village, and cautiously moved towards the sneaky figure.
When Miller and the militiamen captured the guy alive and took him back to the village, by the light of the torch, everyone was surprised to find that this wretched guy was the deceiving pilgrim in the caravan during the day.
At this time, the pilgrim's body exuded a strong stench, and there was a lot of filth on his hands and clothes. This was very painful for the two poor militiamen who were escorting him behind him.
After Simon and Fatty arrived at the scene, they took a closer look with a torch and discovered that the filth on the pilgrims' bodies was actually farmyard manure from the "Halloween Pit".
"Ha, isn't this our eloquent Mr. Farrar? Why are you not sleeping so late? What are you doing in my territory?" Simon sneered at the nervous pilgrim.
"No, my lord, this is not my fault! I was sleeping well, and suddenly I had a strange dream. I dreamed that I was in heaven, and an angel with a trumpet touched my face and guided me. I came to an exquisite garden, and then she gave me a shovel made of pure gold and said, my job is to take care of this beautiful garden, so I took care of it, your soldier It brought me back to reality!”
"Hahahahaha!"
"Sir, you are so funny!"
The surrounding militiamen burst into cheerful laughter.
Seeing that no one believed his argument, the pilgrim's face turned as red as if he had just drank a gallon of strong liquor.
"What's this?"
A militiaman with sharp eyes and quick hands ripped off the unscrewed water bottle from the pilgrim's waist and threw it on the snow. Sticky farmyard manure slowly poured out of the bottle of the leather bottle, which made people feel nauseated.
"It turns out that your second career is a shameful thief. Mr. Farrar, this is my territory, and everything is my property. If you steal my property, according to the law, I can directly sentence you to hanging. Even if you have a great friendship with Mr. Brun, it’s useless!” Simon held his head high and threatened the pilgrims who were looking downcast and ashen-faced.
Simon could imagine that when the deceitful pilgrim left his territory, he could brag about this bottle of farmyard manure based on the story of the apparition in the village of Verde, draining all the savings of the next poor man.
"No, no, my dear, noble, and supreme lord, please be lenient! I am willing to pay you a large fine in exchange for your forgiveness and immunity for my humble life!" Pilgrim This time I was really scared, and I begged Simon for mercy with tears and snot in my eyes.
"Oh? Then tell me how much fine you should pay." Simon said jokingly, looking at the embarrassed pilgrim.
"Sir, two, twenty silver deniers, are they enough?" the pilgrim asked carefully, his voice as small as the sound of a mosquito.
"Do you know what you stole? This is the fertilizer blessed by God in the Holy Pit. You, a coward, actually want to send my young master away with a mere twenty Denier silver coins?"
The fat man's roar frightened the pilgrim who was kneeling on the ground.
"My lord, my lord, forty Denier silver coins!"
"Take him to the woodshed, prepare a rope tomorrow, find a tree, and hang him."
"Oh no! No! Sir! I am willing to pay eighty Denier silver coins, eighty!" Along with the pilgrim's voice trembling with fear, a smell of urine spread from his body to the surroundings. Come.
Simon waved his hand unmoved, turned around with the fat man, and walked towards the wooden castle.
"One hundred and twenty-six Denier silver coins! This is all I have! Please, sir! I really only have so much money! Let me go!" The pilgrim burst into tears. , struggled to turn around, and shouted heartbreakingly at Simon's back.
"Ha, you finally let me see your sincere repentance," Simon stopped and walked back with a smile, "Remember, if you can't hand over one hundred and twenty-six Denier silver coins, even if If you only have one copper coin less, I will still hang you."
"Yes, yes, sir!"
The pilgrim wandering around at the gate of hell seemed to have been drained of all his strength, his head was covered with dense beads of sweat, and he was breathing heavily.
