After the fat man and Miller finally finished the cold food in the bowl, the drinkers in the tavern were dispersed and they were all going to work on their own affairs.

However, Simon noticed that the bard sitting not far away had no intention of leaving, but instead sat in a mottled wooden chair and played his Rutch in the dark corner.

The torches hanging on the wall shone lazily on the side face of the bard and half of his body. The handsome appearance of this guy named Christine attracted the tavern maid who was cleaning up the table and food residues next to him, blinking his eyes as if suggesting something.

"Sorry to bother you, you look like a knowledgeable traveler," Simon took advantage of the time when the bard finished playing a small song and sat on an empty table next to him. "I wonder how the road to Weinsberg is going from here is going to Weinsberg in the near future, are there any damn bandits, Green Forest robbers?"

"Dear Lord, I bet that the road from here to Weinsberg is as white and smooth as Flanders' woolen, and there is no dirty robber stopping your path. Just like several years ago, it is a dream to find a group of bandits in this area!" The bard smiled lightly, his words full of confidence.

"Well," Simon became interested, narrowed his eyes and looked at the bard who was not sure whether it was a confident or conceited person, and patted the sword of his waist. "Why is this? You must know that if you dare to deceive me, as long as I want, I can use this sword to move your head at any time!"

"Aha, let it go, my lord, except for the Wiesbaden sheriff who often leads patrols to suppress bandits nearby with the help of the bishop, just a few years ago, in order to welcome the arrival of King Heinrich and Prince Otto, the nearby lords really slaughtered the illegal people in this area, and they were so cruel and bloody that the bandits in other places would be frightened from the bottom of their hearts when they talked about Wiesbaden."

"Is this how?" Simon nodded thoughtfully.

It is conceivable that there must be a large number of lords from other territories coming with the king and prince. If other lords pass by this place see the thiefs in this territory, the people are living in poverty and being weak and can be bullied, I am afraid that in not long, lords from other territories will forge and declare war on the lords here.

In this martial era where strength is the most respected, weakness and keeping a low profile will not become the life-saving talisman for the lords, but will become the life-saving talisman that makes them tremble.

"My dear Lord, aren't you curious about why King Heinrich and Prince Otto mobilized themselves to come from the distant Dresden to Mainz?" The bard Christine gently stroked his Rutchen with his hand wrapped in arms.

Simon could see a long dry blood stain under the bard's arms wrapped around him, which looked like a long wound. I guess this bard had a different experience.

"Of course." Simon woke up from his thoughts and turned his eyes back to the bard, but at this time, the clever and cunning guy was holding his empty wooden wine glass with a frown and shaking it hard several times before a drop of crystal clear wine dripped into his mouth under the light of the fire. The guy sniffed exaggeratedly, with a look of aftertaste.

"This acting is too exaggerated. I'm really afraid that others won't know that he has no alcohol to drink. I'm just about to say it out loud." Simon shook his head helplessly, turned his head to look at the tavern maid not far behind him while working hard, and quietly following the bartender in this corner, and told her to bring two glasses of good local beer.

"Ha, sir, I feel that the knot on my tongue was untied by this wonderful wine. Next, I will tell you everything I know," said the bard Christine, who received the beer, smiled at Simon, put away his Rutchen, and changed to a comfortable position to lean against the wall. "Just a few years ago, the aging sword of the sessile King Heinrich decided to crown his eldest son Otto. Oh, as for why I say that King Heinrich, whom we respected, was the sword of the sessile, because he refused to receive oil when he was crowned, and did not hold any religious rituals, so he was not a legal king in the eyes of the church."

"Is this why King Heinrich brought Prince Otto to Mainz to hold a coronation ceremony under the witness of the bishop?" Simon took a sip of beer and felt that in addition to the strong wheat aroma, there was also an unknown and unfathomable sour smell.

"That's right, the king hopes to use the power of religion to consolidate the royal power of his eldest son, Prince Otto. At the coronation ceremony that day, Prince Otto received the oiling ceremony. At the same time, the king asked all the dukes present to swear to continue their loyalty to his heir Otto after his death. However, it is said that the dukes agreed on the surface, but they scoffed at it behind their backs." The bard Christine savored the sour beer with a face full of pleasure, as if holding a glass of nectar in his hand. This made Simon a little doubt whether there was something wrong with his taste.

"I have a question, why are the dukes so dissatisfied with King Heinrich and this young Prince Otto?" Simon simply put down the wooden wine glass full of sour beer and curled his lips.

"Sir, maybe you don't know that the dukes pressed step by step on the condition of recognizing King Heinrich to gain various privileges. In fact, the king could only rule on his own territory. In addition, King Heinrich did not imitate the ancient Frankish tradition and adopted the method of division and inheritance, but wanted to hand over the entire country's staff of power to Prince Otto intact, which naturally aroused the dissatisfaction of the dukes." As the bard said, he casually wiped the wine beads stuck to his mouth with his arm-wrapped arm. The dried blood on the arm-wrapped arm was like the long-dried Gantian, which received the blessing of rain and dew, and rejuvenated a strange dark red.

"So that's it." Simon lowered his eyes and tapped the big greasy oak table with his thumb, then stood up and walked towards the fat man who was joking with each other after eating.

"Sir, I forgot to take your wine!" The bard Christine finished drinking the wine in her glass in one breath, but found that Simon's wine was almost motionless.

"I've given it to you."

……………………

The next morning, the scorching sun in late autumn was wrapped in a hint of warmth, driving away the pale white frost traces left by the trees last night.

Simon and others came from the forest that could not be seen at first sight to the vast "grassland" with low hills.

To be honest, this place has nothing to do with the grassland. Simon saw dense stumps of different thicknesses scattered among the grass on the hills on both sides of the road, and even a complete green tree could not be seen. Looking around, this place had nothing but stumps, green grass and tree stumps, no rabbits and roe deer, and few birds, which showed how severe destructive logging had been before.

Not far away, Simon saw a few poor farmers with a vegetable-like face purging the land under the whip of a housekeeper who was not much better. Next to them, there was an old cow who looked thin and could not help but fall to the ground at any time, placing a plow on his body, leaning his head and chewing on his fresh grass.

"These poor people, poor animals, may God bless you." Pedi shook his head with emotion, feeling how precious and hard-earned the food carried by the pack horse under his crotch.

After crossing a vast field, a shabby small village appeared before everyone.

The village has neither tall pointed wood walls nor solid lord towers, but only some dilapidated semi-floor civil and wooden sheds, and a small but not large wooden and stone structure house with horse sheds.

The villagers were all working in the fields near the village, and at this time, a middle-aged soldier with wrinkles and stubble on his face stood in front of the wooden and stone house.

The middle-aged soldier wore a linen turban like ordinary town residents on his head, wearing cheap patched cotton armor, and the hunting boots on his left foot broke a hole to reveal the black toes inside.

Simon noticed that the short spear held by the middle-aged soldier was rusty on the head. In addition, Simon was very suspicious that the curved spear handle would be broken ruthlessly by the user with a little force.

"This respected lord!" The middle-aged soldier who was squinting his eyes was awakened by the sound of horse hooves. He instantly widened his eyes and looked at the road outside the village. After discovering that it was a fully armed team led by a knight, he ran forward without saying a word. He gasped in the middle of the road at the entrance of the village and held his spear in his hands and barely stopped, looking at Simon and his group nervously.

"Welcome to the village of Mirten, the lord here is Sir Linton of the Crovey family, the terrifying Hammer of Ergrett, the conqueror of the great Hopfilgan, and Earl of Weinsberg, Amysch, Earl of Count Ruthbert." The middle-aged soldier took off his dirty turban and wiped the fine sweat that kept gushing out of his forehead.

"Ahh, this is the crusher of the Norman Pirates, the legal ruler of Foldberg, Sir Simon of the Dorsten family," the fat man raised his head and gently clamped his horse's belly forward. "We know who the Earl Rutbert in your mouth, but what I don't understand is, why have I never heard of Ergrett and Hopfigen?"

"Ah, this," the middle-aged soldier's face turned red, his eyes drifted a little. He seemed a little embarrassed to answer the fat man's question, "Okay, let's talk about it, these two titles were added to me by Master Linton after conquering nearby villages of Ergret and Hopfigen."

"Hahahahahahahahaha, the terrifying Hammer of Ogret and the great Hopfigan Conqueror, I'm almost laughed to death!"

As soon as the middle-aged soldier finished speaking, Simon's horse team burst into laughter. Even Gabriel sprayed out all the fruit wine in his mouth, and the scene was very funny.

"Damn it, who is making noise there!" At this moment, a muffled shout was mixed in the happy air at the entrance of the village, and everyone stopped laughing.

I saw a man wearing a square-top covered helmet with a slender peeping hole, wearing a shabby sleeveless chain mail, wearing a leather glove inlaid with iron pieces on his arms and backs. He walked slowly towards the entrance of the village with a pair of old cavalry leather boots, touching the hilt of the sword at his waist.

"Master Lindon!" The middle-aged soldier took a small step back as if he was a ghost, but he immediately forced himself to put on a clumsy and stiff smile and greeted him.

"What happened?" Sir Linton, wearing a covered helmet, narrowed his eyes through the gap of the peeping holes on the covered helmet's face and looked at the strange knight in front of him who looked like he came from the distant wild north.

At the same time, Simon was also looking at the proud and arrogant Sir Linton. To be honest, Simon had never seen such a flat-top covered helmet since he came to this era. The entire covered helmet is spliced ​​and divided into a square iron helmet and a facial covered armor. I saw a nose protection strip in the center of the slender peeping hole on the covering armor, and at the position of the nose and mouth below the peeping hole, several tiny rectangular breathing holes with regular symmetrical symmetrical tiny breathing holes were opened.

"Stranger, you seem to be very disdainful of my title. OK, very good. I will teach you a good lesson and leave you with a lesson that will never be forgotten until you bring it to the grave!" The muffled voice from Sir Linton's helmet was extremely dissatisfied. Simon could hear this irritable guy trying to suppress the anger in his heart.

For a moment, everyone's eyes gathered on Simon. The fat man lowered his eyes slightly with some guilt. He felt that it was all his fault for asking the source of this title that he had never heard of before, which made Simon get into trouble out of thin air.

"Bah, I want to see what you, arrogant and arrogant fool, taught me a lesson!" Simon smiled disdainfully, then spat on the ground.

Although he didn't know why Sir Linton's territory was so poor, he had such a good helmet, but Simon knew that if he bowed his head and apologized to Sir Linton now, he might have made up some outrageous stories and described himself as a complete loser to highlight his fame.

At that time, Simon lost some prestige and corrupted some popularity. What he feared most was that he was called a "coward" and was widely praised. He would not think about walking the road ahead.

"You, you," Sir Linton wanted to spit a mouthful of saliva on the ground and responded to Simon, but he found himself wearing a covered helmet and had to give up, "It's so damn, I'm going to fight you, the foolish and arrogant Northland ass, to defend my reputation!"
Chapter completed!