"How about you, sir, do you feel great now?" Simon was riding his chestnut war horse leisurely, but unlike before, there was a man in black with a blue nose and swollen face and tied tightly behind the horse.

I saw the poor guy's face was bruised, his nose was bleeding, his body was sore, and he was placed on the bumpy horse's back in a very uncomfortable position. He felt the fleas crawling around him unscrupulously, and at the same time he had to endure the smell of the horse's disgusting smell.

"Vomit!" Finally, the guy couldn't help it and vomited with his head tilted. However, the vomit only spilled his face.

"What a disgusting bastard." The fat man riding Baron Carl's lost horse looked at the ugly horse thief in black with contempt, as if looking at a pile of feces.

"Master Simon, we are about to arrive in Duisburg. Are you sure you want to return this horse to Baron Carl?" asked Miller, who was cautiously riding the docile traveling horse before, and said to Simon, "I think we can get around Duisburg so that we don't have to return the horse, and save a lot of money for buying horses."

"You're thinking too simple." Simon shook his head and held his forehead to explain to the slightly green Miller. "What if we met someone familiar with Baron Carl on the way and were mistaken for us as the ones stealing horses?"

"We can say that this is our spoil, and we have won the battle with this guy." Miller pointed to the black horse thief who had already looked desperate.

"So the suspicious Baron Carl would think that the Dorsten family hired someone to carefully plan the horse stealing show, which was simply the perfect excuse to provoke a private battle." Simon continued to explain, firmly riding his horse on the dirt road to Duisburg.

"Okay, sir, I understand. If we possess this horse privately, no matter what reasons and excuses are used, one day it will be exposed and bring endless troubles." Miller was aware of the trick and finally gave up the bad idea of ​​occupying the horse privately.

"Yes," Simon nodded, "Be careful of sailing for a thousand years, don't get into more trouble because of greed for some small profits."

"Oh! I think we're here." After a while, Simon looked at the vague outline of the village in the distance and the rising smoke from the cooking stove, and clamped his legs to speed up the horse's belly.

"No, sir, you can't send me back. I, I am willing to do anything for you, please!" The black-clad horse thief felt his heart tingled and frightened, as if the one ahead was not Duisburg, but a hell filled with devils.

………

"It's noon now, and I can't believe that Bazel, you whore raised, has the face to eat here!" Baron Carl, who returned from patrolling the village, opened the door of the tower and saw Bazel eating bread and drinking soup on the wine barrel in the corner of the hall, and was so angry that he smoked.

"No, I, my master..." Bazel's mouth was stuffed with bread. He chewed and tried to explain something, and the crumbs in his mouth splashed everywhere.

"Shut up, let me finish eating before talking!" Baron Carl took a step back disgustedly, looked at the bread crumbs covered with the butler Bazel's saliva, and almost roared at the corner.

"Yes, old master." The butler Bazel looked bitter and shrank his neck. He carefully picked up the wooden cup on the wine barrel next to him. With the help of the wine, he quickly gave the bread in his mouth to his stomach.

"I wishfully thought that my loyal butler had gone to find a horse for me," Baron Carl suddenly laughed furiously, walked to Bazel, who didn't dare to move for a moment, and smelled the strong smell of alcohol from him. "It turned out that I found a place to hide it and drank the wine all morning."

"No, no, master, I, I just drink and help you find a horse..." Bazel lowered his head, not daring to look directly into Baron Carl's eyes.

"Very good Bazel," Baron Carl stretched out his big, rough and calloused hands, "You look at my hands now, it looks like a pair of barons, or noble hands?"

Bazel looked up at Baron Carl's hand cowardly, not understanding what his master was doing.

"The answer is obviously easy. This is a pair of hands that only farmers should have," Baron Carl took back his hand and put on his somewhat worn deerskin gloves again. "So I am talking to you as a farmer now. Please answer me with your confidence and domineering attitude as you usually deal with farmers. Have you found that damn horse?

"I, my master, I dare not. You are the absolute boss of this land, and even the king is not as good as you." The trembling answer from the housekeeper Bazel was as small as a mosquito, but it made Baron Carl very useful.

"I'll give you this idiot another day. Don't come back if you can't find the horse! I'm not talking about it," Baron Carl waved his hand and walked straight to his throne. "To be honest, I really had the urge to draw my sword and cut you down after I just entered the door."

Cold sweat kept oozing from Bazel's body. He knew that if he hadn't had a clever mouth that wasn't too stupid, he would have been in a different place just now.

"Master, believe me, God will definitely send your horse back to you intact. I pray for the appearance of the holy icon at all times..." Before the butler Bazer finished speaking, he was interrupted by the desperate shouts of the horse boy outside the door.

"Master, the horse has been found, Master, the horse has been found!" The excited voice from Ma Tong came into Baron Carl's ears. He couldn't help but stand up and quickly walked towards the closed gate of the tower.

"This is," the butler Bazel opened the door and saw the horse that almost lost his life at first sight. The expression on his face instantly became fanatical, "This is all God's arrangement, all of this is God's arrangement!"

"Or Simon's arrangement," Simon led the Baron's horse into the fortyard and looked at Baron Carl with a look of surprise. "Dear Baron Carl, I also brought you a gift, you can decide at will how to deal with him-the damn horse thief who steals your horse."

As he said that, Miller behind Simon threw the black-clothed horse thief with his hands and feet tied on his shoulders onto a pile of horse manure beside the stable, and spitted at the guy with a stinky smell and undigested vomit on his face.

"You really surprised me, just like your father, Simon." Baron Carl laughed and clapped his hands, walked to the horse, gently stroked its mane.

"Of course, Lord Carl," Simon chuckled, but his eyes were constantly looking at Baron Carl and his castle.

"It's still a little worse than Foldeburg." Simon made a preliminary evaluation in his mind. The wooden stakes in Duisburg were a little loose, and even in some places with large gaps, you can directly see the light coming from outside the wall.

Baron Carl was just wearing a fine linen linen that was stinking with sweat, which was different from ordinary civilians. He said as if he was talking to himself: "Maybe God really appeared, and I lost this beautiful horse and brought the damn horse thief to me."

As he said that, Baron Carl's private soldiers changed his usual decadent and listless appearance and reached his hand under the armpit of the horse thief and supported him.

"Oh," Baron Carl looked at the evil thief, "Who gave you the courage to run to my territory to steal my horse?"

"All this is instructed by this Lord Simon," the horse thief looked at this Lord Simon, who could be said to have ruined his life. "I was hired by this Lord Simon's subordinates to steal horses for him, but this Lord thought the salary given to me was too high and was afraid that things would be exposed were too disgraceful, so he actually designed this trap to use your hand to get rid of me!"

"You are farting!" the fat man shouted, and went up and punched the horse thief in the stomach, causing him to retching and even his stomach acid was about to vomit.

"Hmm," Baron Carl narrowed his eyes and looked at Simon, "I think the words of a dying thief are far less true than those of the son of an old friend who has had a long relationship with me."

"That's right, Lord Carl, is he trying to provoke our relationship in a mess? I believe you can see it." Simon was very open-minded, raised his head slightly, and looked at Baron Carl without being humble or arrogant.

"Very good," Baron Carl had an answer in his heart, and his eyes fell back to the horse thief who was still lobbying for exaggeration and trying to get favor with the Baron. "Come on, go to the village to call the executioner. I don't want my hands to be covered with the dirty blood of this lowly despicable guy."

…………

"Eat my friend, it's like being at home."

In the warm Lord Tower, Baron Carl gracefully picked up his wine glass. Just as he was about to say that there was no wine, the housekeeper Bazel had handed over another fresh and cool beer.

"Mr. Carl, please forgive my presumption," Simon chewed goose meat, accompanied by white bread and wine, "Is it because of Earl Loyon on the other side of the river?"

"You guys are very informative." Baron Carl was in a good mood and his appetite increased greatly. He shouted to the guards at the entrance of the tower, "Hey, let the kitchen bake a few more larks."

"So that's it." Simon nodded, but his heart became more and more anxious. He had already smelled the smell of war, but he was suffering from the fact that he had just suffered a hard battle and the army lacked new blood.

"But I don't think the fight will start so quickly. The Earl will likely launch an attack when the snow begins next year," Baron Carl shook the wine in the wooden cup in his hand. "It is also possible that the Earl will not wait that long and launch an attack before or in winter."

"Well..." Simon silently thought about the next path in his heart, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt the headache.

"Forget it, go fuck it." Simon simply shook his head, rubbed his sour temples, and drank the mellow beer in one sip, no longer thinking about these troubles.

"Also, Lord Carl, I have something to ask for." Simon looked at the Baron and was excited to drink, knowing that this was an excellent time to make a request to buy a horse.

"Oh?" Baron Carl drank a little too much, and his face and neck began to flush slightly. "Simon, I have to say that you are really my lucky star. So, if you have anything to say, just be within the range I can satisfy."
Chapter completed!