Since the burial of the first emperor, the royal court of Abbasquia, or the authority of the empire, has been infiltrating every corner of the Great Prorus step by step, and even the people of the Great Prorus on the frontier have gradually accepted the fact that their supreme leader is the "emperor".

After hearing this, the mayor's face was obviously a little embarrassed, although his friend was a devout Sardinian, he actually did not object to Sardinianism. As a traditional resident of the Northlands, the mayor is sometimes more inclined to believe in traditional tribal heroes.

Mende obviously didn't notice the change in his friend's expression, and he said with great interest: "Now many nobles have begun to believe in Sardinia, and His Majesty in Beihai has even prepared for the coronation of Sardinia, and many priests and nearby noble vassals have gone, I really want to tell you what a glorious and sacred scene it is... ”

The mayor wasn't really interested in these things, but he couldn't bear to interrupt him when he saw his old friend so happy, but he didn't know what to say, so he just smiled and beckoned Mendel to find a place to sit himself.

The mayor's wife knew her husband well, so she deliberately diverted the topic and said: "Ah, Mende, you have had a hard time coming from a long distance, there is nothing to prepare at home, you can drink some goat's milk to cushion your stomach first, and I will go and prepare lunch now." ”

Mender wanted to excuse himself, but after smelling the smell of goat's milk, his stomach involuntarily barked. Since his finger was cut off in the last time he delivered a letter, Mendel quit his job as a messenger and became a clergyman. To put it nicely, it's called a missionary, but to say it's ugly, it's an ascetic, and he has to rely on believers to help him in his usual life, so he is naturally hungry and full of food.

Mende took a sip of the steaming goat's milk in front of him, until the sweet and delicious goat's milk was in his stomach, and then wiped his mouth embarrassedly, and said: "Such a good thing, it is not easy to see, you still have to feed the child now, it is better to leave this thing to the child." ”

Seeing Mende's appearance, Mayor Maretown finally regained the familiar feeling he had with his old friend, and said with a smile: "You are really the same, you haven't changed at all." You can drink it with confidence. Now everyone's life is better, not to mention that there are a lot of sheepfolds in the family, even if you take something to the town to change some, you can still get it. ”

Speaking of this, Mende nodded with deep understanding: "In the past, when I was in the tribe, where there was any surplus food, even the chief's house sometimes couldn't open the pot, and many people would starve to death every winter. Now that everyone has settled down, although they still have to hand over some food to the lord, a year of good weather is still enough to live. It's a pity that my hands can't take care of the crops, otherwise I wouldn't have said anything else, and I wouldn't have planted some land. ”

The mayor shook his head and said with a smile: "You are too tough. Otherwise, with your ability, you can just go to be a clerk, and you won't go to farming. ”

Just then, the two men were interrupted by a sudden cry from the child in the cradle, and the mayor got up from the bench in front of the table, carried the child to Mender, and said, "Look, what a good boy. ”

Mende looked at the beautiful boy and was speechless for a moment. In the past few years, Mende has been preaching in the village, and there are not a few children who have been baptized by his own hands, but it is the first time he has seen it like this child, and looking at this child, Mende has an indescribable sense of intimacy in his heart.

"What's this boy's name?" Mende asked, slurring.

"You're in luck, Mender, this kid doesn't have a name yet. Several of my children have always referred to your opinions when choosing their names, so let you name them this time. The mayor saw that Mender liked the child very much, and remembered that the child's name had not yet been named, so he hastened to talk to Mender about the situation.

When Mender heard this, he couldn't help but be overjoyed. Naming a nobleman's child is a sacred thing. There is a legend in Grand Pruss that if a newborn child's name is given by someone other than the child's own biological parents, then the fates of the two people will be linked together, equivalent to half of the child's adoptive parents.

Of course, the mayor gave the right to name the child to Mender for another reason. Mende is a person who can write and read, let him name the child, and when the child grows up, he can call him to educate him smoothly, and, just looking at the child's face, this old friend has come to get together with him a lot. Thinking of this, the mayor's heart couldn't help but blossom.

Mender was thinking something else entirely. Shortly after he was born, a rare snowstorm swept through his tribe, crushing the wooden beams that supported the roof, killing his father and mother, and missing his siblings. He was lucky enough to survive in the corner of the house, and his name was given by the mayor's father.

"Vidia Benguela ... Mender muttered to himself, "Benguela means born in the snow and ice, and Vidia is the name of a hero in the ancient scriptures of Sardinia." ”

Hearing this, the mayor happily lifted the child high and laughed loudly: "Hear me, young man, you have a name!"

Outside the door, a spring breeze blew through the streets of the town, accompanied by the scent of flowers brought from the wild, through the fence of the town's extension, and finally involved in several families in the town. The little girl who runs the clinic by Mr. and Mrs. Solomon is still tirelessly cleaning the street in front of the house, only to smile inadvertently when she smells the faint scent of flowers. The mayor's wife was busy carefully removing the hot bread from the oven so that they could be placed on a large tray for entertaining guests from afar.

It is said that it was also in such a spring that a hungry young man came to this small village with the smell of toasted bread, and took this village step by step from a tribe to a small town today.

For some, spring is a wonderful season.

Not far from the town of Abbasquia, in a small village called Mogia, a child of twelve or thirteen years old was running around the village at a rapid pace, and behind him was a middle-aged man with a wooden stick.

They had been running from morning to now, and if nothing else, they would continue to run until the child was caught and beaten by a middle-aged man. Fortunately, the nearby villagers have tried to get acquainted with it.

It all started a few years ago. It was a sunny autumn day, and a man with a horse came to the village with a child, the man was wearing armor and leather boots, and the boy was wearing a new dress and a new pair of straw sandals that did not match his figure.

The strange pair walked to a clearing in the village under the strange eyes of the villagers, and the man looked around, and finally his eyes rested on a dead tree, and the man took out his sword, and cut down the little tree with a sword, and then with a few strokes, he got a very long stick, and then took out a flag from his horse's bag, and then put the flag on the root of the wood, and stuck the stick in the open space he had chosen.

The villagers were surprised that no new people had come to the village for many years, and even the appearance of the tax collector had become their accustomed face.

The old people who stayed in this village were very serious, and they did not want to talk to strangers casually. Just a dozen years ago, a beautiful young man came to the village, and the men of the village locked their doors and locked their wives in the house, and the chief of the village took the men to greet the man. The people in the village know that outsiders like this who run from the city always like to kidnap a girl from the village.

But the man didn't kidnap any of the women that time, but the men he had spoken to were gone. In just a few quarters of an hour, the men returned to their homes, opened the door, packed their belongings under the bewildered eyes of their wives, and finally never returned. It was only later, when the poor women received news of the men's deaths, that the man who abducted their man seemed to be Felipe, a well-known man in the town of Abbaschia.

Since then, whenever outsiders come to the village, whether men or women, they have stayed away from them.

And the man couldn't help frowning when he saw that after he planted the flag in this village, no one came to talk to him. The little boy next to the man, who was less than ten years old at the time, looked curious, probing his brain to look at every grass and tree in the village.

Eventually, a young boy about the same age as the boy ran over, looked at the man who planted the flag in the village, but ran far enough away from the man, tugged at the boy's clothes, and whispered, "Do you know who the man standing in the middle of the village is?"

The little boy replied in an equally small voice, "That man is my father." ”

At that time, the little boy was somewhat weak when he said this, and he glanced at the man.

The little boy didn't know the man for a long time, and like many little boys and girls in the village, the boy had never seen his father since he was a child, and only when his mother was crying secretly alone could he faintly hear his father's name, Stant.

Later, like many other children, the boy lost his mother, who died of a raging flu.

Since then, the boy has been raised by several elderly families in the village.

Until one day, the boy was playing in the river as usual, picking up something to eat and taking it back to add a meal to himself.

A man in black armor rode to the brook, and when he saw the boy who was picking up shells, the man was stunned for a moment, then he rolled off the horse, felt two round things from his body, handed them to the boy, and asked, "Son, is this Nehayasi?" The man said this with a stiff voice, but it was indeed full of Nehawasi accent.

After the boy heard the familiar hometown dialect, his impression of this man was much better, so he took the things handed by the man and nodded slightly.

After receiving the boy's affirmative reply, the man seemed a little uneasy, only to see the man take a deep breath and ask with difficulty: "Then you must go until Stant's house, I remember that their family should have lived here for more than ten years." The man said, squeezing out a smile on his face.

The boy looked at the man and said, "I don't know who the Stants you are talking about, but my father's name is Stant." The boy suddenly looked happy, and took out a colored stone from his pocket, and he picked it up and handed it to the man: "Since you mentioned my father, you must know him." If you can see him, please give him this stone. Tell him that it was given to him by his son Orlando and tell him to come back early. ”

The man bowed down, half-knelt in front of the boy, caught the stone with one hand, hugged the little boy's head with the other, and asked, "What about your mother, where is she?"

"It's gone. ”

At this point, the boy suddenly realized something, first looked at the man's face, then suddenly snatched the stone from the man's hand, and ran back to the village as fast as he could.

When he first returned home, Stant was simply stunned. In his memory, autumn is the busiest time of the year in the village, the men are busy sowing wheat in the fields, and the women stay at home all day long to arrange the spring clothes for the whole family, and the fields of the whole village are full of busy scenes.

Now, the whole village looks in tatters, there is hardly anything moving in the streets except for a few idle children, and the fields near the village are also one east and one west, and the cultivation is not in shape. Stant reached out and touched the paperwork he was carrying, and he couldn't help but feel a chill in his heart...

That village doesn't seem to be very far from here.

Stant remembers when he asked the clerk about the village where he wrote the title deed, and the clerk replied to him, "You have been given a good and rich land, where the land is fertile and close to our capital. You ask me how many people there are? 100 households, I mean there must be at least 100 households, I remember the last time the tax collector went where to collect taxes, he raised dozens of piana gold coins, and no 100 households could not raise so much... ”