The next morning, there were obviously fewer soldiers digging trap pits than the previous two days, but fortunately, the long trap pit was almost completed.
The width of the trap pit has reached six meters, which is fatal to unsuspecting and unprofessionally trained horses, but Simon still feels that this is not enough, especially when encountering tall war horses.
However, today's progress may have to slow down. The two barons have more important things to do.
Early in the morning, Simon and Winter each brought twenty fully armed soldiers. They escorted Hans, whose legs were burned, along the Wenstrout River shrouded in morning fog, heading upstream.
They want to find the homeless camp where Hans is located, confirm the authenticity of what he said, and then arrest all the homeless people in the camp who spread rumors.
At the same time, Simon also left some smart players for Sir Bill, who is good at concealment and tracking. Today, his task is to keep an eye on Langer's movements.
Although there is no conclusive evidence yet, Simon always feels that this matter is closely related to his gloomy and cunning brother, because according to Hans' description, the height and shape of his employer are more consistent with his. He can mask his appearance and voice, but can't really change his body shape. Simon felt that Langer was not cautious enough to put something on the soles of his shoes to change his original height.
"Ah, my legs!" Hans got rid of the two soldiers on the left and right who were holding him limping, staggered and fell to the ground.
"Alert!" As soon as Simon's voice fell, the soldiers raised their shields outward like a reflex, and scanned the surrounding woods as if they were faced with a formidable enemy.
After a while, nothing seemed to happen.
The soldiers did not relax their vigilance. Simon and Winter dismounted and walked to Hans' side accompanied by two soldiers holding swords.
"What tricks are you playing? If you can't give me an answer that satisfies me, I'll move your head right now!" Baron Winter was impatient with Hans's surprising behavior.
Now, he began to wonder if Hans was leading them into an enemy ambush. However, this time he and Simon brought forty fully armed private soldiers, and Hans's wandering companions alone could not harm them at all.
"My, my, my legs feel like they're about to be torn apart!" Hans showed a painful expression. His dirty hands reached for his trouser legs and pulled them up. What came into view was the pink burn wounds and the Mixed with white and brown-white patches. The movements of his legs caused yellow pus to flow from the cracked wounds, which was unbearable to look at.
"Give him poppy juice."
Simon looked at a private soldier next to him. The private soldier lowered his head helplessly and reluctantly took out a small bottle from the bag on his waist. Apparently he thought it was unnecessary to give this sloppy homeless man analgesia.
After a while, Hans's tense face relaxed and he didn't look as painful as before.
"Keep going," Simon and Winter remounted.
"You also drank the poppy juice. If you don't make it to the camp you mentioned before lunch, I will chop off your head and throw it into the Unstrut River, I promise." Winter added. He instantly turned Hans's flushed face pale with fright.
Whether it was due to the effect of the painkiller or Winter's threat, Hans walked unexpectedly much faster than before.
After a while, the soldier exploring the road at the front made a stop gesture, and the soldiers following behind stopped and started to guard the surroundings again. The scouting soldiers trotted all the way to Simon and Winter's horses: "Two adults, there is a small camp ahead, but there is no one in it."
Simon looked intently and saw that it was a deserted small camp by the river beach. The wanderers in the camp either escaped or were lying in wait near the camp to take the bait.
Simon and Winter looked at each other, and Winter waved to the two soldiers holding Hans, and Hans was soon led to the horse.
"This is the camp you stayed at before?"
"Yes, yes." Hans looked very panicked. He didn't understand why there was no accomplice in the camp, which would make him look very suspicious.
If his associates had ambushed Simon and Winter's forces near here and attacked, he had no doubt that Winter would be the first to behead him.
"Where have everyone gone?"
"I, I, I don't know. There were many people there before the day the Duke captured me. I don't know anything after I was captured. Please don't kill me, sir..."
Winter raised his hand to stop Hans from begging for mercy, and he also understood that this could not be Hans's letter informing him.
He thought that either the homeless people in the camp were alert and left on their own after discovering that their accomplices were missing, or that someone behind them had been following them and monitoring them in the dark - maybe someone from the homeless people, or maybe someone from their employer. .
For some reason, a chill rose from Winter's back. He looked at the dense trees around him, as if every leaf was an eye watching them.
…………………………
"Let's go hunting, Gretel," Count Lange played idly with his silver-plated dagger in his tent, "I'm really bored."
"There are rats watching us outside, my lord." The earl was wearing a loose robe, a feathered pointed leather hat, a brown goatee on his chin, and a pair of originally fierce eyes. The young man who was looking at the ground humbly responded respectfully.
Sir Gretel was unanimously considered by the nobles of the Earl of Dorsten to be one of the most promising people to become a baron. His family's territory is in the village of Wesel, north of Fordeburg, and his father passed away not long after the death of Keoser. Therefore, at a young age, he finally got rid of his status as a trainee knight and directly chose the He took on the important responsibility of taking charge of the family.
He's a prick, but he also knows how to impress his lord in a way that earns his admiration rather than his distaste. He suited Lange's taste - aggressive, acrimonious, arrogant and unruly, but loyal and obedient to his lord.
Not surprisingly, he gradually became the most trusted person in the earldom besides Sir Julian.
But it is a pity that although Lange is a count, he actually owns only three baronies. He can control these three territories well, so he has no intention of entrusting the baron title to his knights for the time being.
If during Sir Gretel's long life, his lord, Earl Lange, was lucky enough to receive more titles and larger territories, he and his Wessel family would most likely be granted a brand new claim to the barony. This is the fundamental motivation for him to serve Lange loyally and sparing no effort.
"Ha, don't worry, it's just hunting, that's all." Lange put the dagger into the scabbard and stood up. The attendant behind him helped him put on a red wool cloak and pinned a silver-plated The brooch was fixed, "By the way, what's new about our eyeliner?"
"Baron Simon and Baron Winter took the interrogated homeless prisoners to his camp early this morning."
"They are destined to miss, and that fake gentleman Winter might be so angry that he beheads the wanderer on the spot!" Lange's face was filled with relaxation and joy, and the attendants were packing up his hunting needs in an orderly manner. Things used.
"Although His Excellency the Duke has explicitly ordered not to discuss such rumors that disturb the morale of the army, as far as I know, many soldiers are still secretly discussing this matter. I am sure that Baron Simon's reputation will be greatly affected. , and his foolish imitator Winter will also suffer."
After they were talking and laughing, a soldier with a panicked face broke into the tent, which was really disappointing.
"My lord, Baron Simon and Baron Winter are back." The soldier gasped.
"You reckless bastard," Sir Gretel, who had been so submissive just now, suddenly changed his expression. He frowned and narrowed his eyes and took a step forward.
Gretel's posture frightened the soldier and quickly added: "They captured David!"
"What," Lange's cheerful mood was really gone at this point, "this clumsy bastard!"
"Did those two bastard barons do anything to him?" Sir Gretel roughly grabbed the soldier's left shoulder.
Twist him to face you.
"I'm sorry, I, I don't know," the soldier turned his eyes to the ground with some fear, fearing that he might offend the violent guy in front of him, "but he looks injured. I think it was after a fight. Only then was he caught.”
Sir Gretel turned his attention to Lange, ready to obey his lord's decision, but at this time, the unconcealed killing intent in Lange's eyes made Gretel, who was cruel by nature, swallow his saliva.
"Let's go to where Simon and Winter are camping," Lange walked to the weapon rack and picked up his sword, "it's still me and you."
Sir Gretel let go of the soldier and followed Lange out of the tent. Under the watchful eyes of the guards, he also retrieved his sword from the weapon rack outside the tent and hung it on his waist.
…………………………
Under a thick beech tree in Simon's camp, there was an injured man in black robes moaning in pain.
The doctor Arthur took the soldering iron rod handed over by Brother Linde. When the originally burning orange-red shiny iron almost returned to its original color, Arthur asked the soldiers to hold the man in black robe down, and then without hesitation He pointed the branding iron at his open wound and stamped it. Suddenly, heart-rending screams spread throughout the camp.
"How is his condition?" Simon standing aside asked, looking at the backs of physician Arthur and Brother Linde.
"All the bleeding wounds have stopped now, but he looks very weak. If you want to interrogate him, pay attention to the scale, otherwise he will easily..." Arthur shrugged expressively and handed back the iron rod. into the hands of Brother Linde. Simon knew what he meant. Any torture interrogation might kill this unfortunate guy.
Brother Linde put the iron rod back into the fire and returned to the beech: "Brother Simon, is he the person Lang sent to monitor you?"
"I guess it's not wrong," Simon looked at the tied man thoughtfully, "I'm looking forward to prying something out of his mouth."
