Art forgot his tiredness, and it was not until the moon hung in the treetops that he dragged his legs, which were as heavy as lead, knocked open the shepherd's little stone house, and exchanged two rabbit skins for a bowl of hot soup and a bed made of hay......

As soon as the day dawned, he set off again.

At sunset on the fourth day of leaving the valley, the tall spire of the Tignets church was already faintly visible.

In a hurry, Yatter arrived at Tignets with one day less than usual.

From a raised knoll, Tignets was dyed red by the setting sun.

Tignets is a common wooden and stone square castle in the Central European plain, it is based on the expansion of the military fort during the Roman Empire, the circumference of the castle is about 1,600 feet, surrounded by stone walls 400 feet long, 30 feet high, and 7 feet thick, and the four corners of the wall are built four round wooden arrow towers (watchtowers) ten feet higher than the city wall and can accommodate six garrison soldiers.

On the north and south of the city wall there is a twelve-foot-high and ten-foot-wide double-open oak gate with iron grilles, a hard dirt road about ten feet wide runs through the north and south, and the castle is divided into four parts by the road as the boundary, and the southeast is a free market surrounded by a fence dominated by low wooden houses; The southwest is mostly a commercial block composed of double-storey houses (wealthy areas) and taverns, leather shops, weapons shops, blacksmith shops, and tailor shops, which are arranged in a slightly neat arrangement of wood and stone structures; On the northwest side is the slave market; To the north-east are the shacks of the slums, where fleeing migrants, beggars, bankrupt yeoman farmers...

The square inner castle-style hall of the lord's hall is located in the center of the castle, and is separated from the square-walled, domed-topped, stone-towered Tinets Church across the north-south avenue. This historic castle was one of the direct fiefs of the Marquis of Burgundy, Ivre Otto, and was administered by the Marquis's retainer, Viscount Pierre Dieng.

By the time Art reached the South Gate, the sun had already set over the horizon.

"Stop, open the baggage check!" A gate guard armed with a short spear, dressed in cotton armor and a sheepskin jacket, and wearing a semicircular helmet, stopped Art.

Art took off her rabbitskin felt hat, revealing her face and smiling at the guard.

The guard recognized Art and slowly put away his spear. Art nudged the defender's shoulder, took him aside, and reached out to hand five Fennig, which was equivalent to two or three days' wages for a young and strong laborer in the city.

The guards looked left and right, and then turned to tell Art that he had to take out five Fennig, because the tax collector at the city gate had changed, and he had to give the new tax collector some sweetness, otherwise Art would have to pay a heavy tax on his big bag of fur goods. Art looked at the tax collector sitting behind the long wooden table at the city gate, nodded to the guard, and took out five finneys from the money bag, the guard took the copper coin, put it into the money bag sewn on the inside of the leather jacket, turned around and nodded at the tax collector and the other guard at the city gate...

Arte, who had paid the "special commercial tax", was not questioned by the tax collector when he walked into the city gate, and Art and a large bag of fur mountain goods on his body passed through the tax collector like air~

"Everywhere you go, you are a virtue, and money is the messenger of God!" Art scolded.

However, Art is still very happy, according to the standard of "ten taxes and one", Art needs to pay about forty pfennigs of commercial tax for this fur, because he knows the guards of the city, he only needs to pay ten pfennig's "special commercial tax" to enter the city smoothly.

After passing through the city gates, Art walked straight to the southwest side of the castle, where there was an inn and inn. After paying the owner five pinknighs, Art was taken by a bartender to a small room on the second floor of the inn. Art put down his baggage, took out three Fennig, turned around and handed it to the bartender, and ordered the bartender to bring a decent dinner to the room.

In a few moments, the bartender brought dinner on a tray—a small piece of refined wheat bread, a bowl of wheat cereal with coarse salt, two pieces of roast pork, an apple broth in a clay pot, and a glass of the inn's own sour wine. After eating this expensive dinner like a storm, Art's internal organs were greatly satisfied.

After setting up dinner and refusing the tavern girl who knocked on the door, Art plunged into the sheepskin blanket on the wooden bed. It's not that Art is clean, it's just that he feels that life is not easy.

............

The morning sun stung Art's eyes, and Art shook his heavy head and walked out of the room. Apparently Art didn't sleep well, and the hustle and bustle of the drunks downstairs last night continued into the night.

Coming to the first floor, there are only two bartenders in the empty hall cleaning up the mess left by the drunks last night. Art found a table by the window and sat down, beckoning a little bartender of thirteen or fourteen.

"Bring me a simple meal," he said, handing a Finny, and the little bartender took Finny, turned and walked into the tavern room.

Art rubbed his eyes and looked through the wooden lattice window into the alleyway outside the hotel, the heavy snow a few days ago had melted and gathered into a puddle in the mud, there were a few vendors with baskets of apples and bread at the entrance of the alley, and the city dwellers bent their necks past the alley, running to their respective places of survival, and the southern castle woke up.

"Please slow down" The bartender brought a bowl of cereal porridge with a wooden spoon.

After a few bites of cereal porridge, Art picked up the two subi change in the tray and called the little bartender to hand it to him. This is a small copper coin produced in the local area, and roughly six subees can be exchanged for a finnig.

The little bartender happily took the two small subhies, and looked at Art with a hint of flattery, knowing that in the city of Tignats, a middle-aged laborer who takes care of his own food and lodging is only two pfennigs a day, and the bartender who eats and lives is only paid five pfennigs a week, which is less than five subeles a day.

"Man, I want to buy a pack donkey, but the big winter market is over, and the small market has to wait for ten days, do you know where else to sell it now?" Art wanted to buy a pack donkey to help him transport game and fur to make some money, otherwise he would not be able to change the status quo in his lifetime on his own.

The little bartender looked down and thought for a moment, then turned over and muttered a few words to the other bartender.

"The mule and horse caravan has left, but last month there was a grain merchant in the north of the city that went bankrupt, the grain store originally had a lot of pack horses and livestock transporting grain, and some time ago a mule and horse caravan bought a large number of them, maybe there are leftovers, you can try your luck." The little bartender ran over and told Art.

Art asked for the detailed address of the bankrupt grain store and instructed the bartender to take care of the goods for him, and then left the inn. The bankrupt grain store is located in a row of stone houses on the northwest side near the slave market, the gate of the grain store is ajar, and there is no sign of pack horses and cattle on the tethered posts in the open space in front of the door.

Art was a little disappointed, and as he was about to leave, the door creaked, and a fat old man wearing a felt hat, a leather jacket, and cowhide winter boots walked out.

"Good day, man, did you come here so early to buy food? Oh, I'm sorry, but the grain store is bankrupt and closed, so you can go to the free market or go to the grain store at the church. The old man looked at Art and reminded kindly.

"Good day, sir, I have heard that the grain store has a batch of pack horses for sale, and I am going to try my luck." Art bowed slightly to the fat old man.

"Hehe, man, I'm not a gentleman, I'm just a commoner, and I'm the owner of this house. It seems that you are out of luck, as you can see that the cattle have been sold, and the owner of the grain store has left Tinets last night, poor fellow, the whole caravan of grain has been killed by robbers, and his only son has not been spared. The fat old man sighed under his breath, and drew the Holy Cross on his chest with his right hand.

"Thank you, God is with you." Art turned and walked away.

"Hey, man, what are you going to buy? Pack horses? Art had just taken a few steps when the fat old man stopped him.

Art didn't want to delay the time, but out of politeness, he turned around and told the fat old man that he wanted to buy a donkey to help him carry the goods.

"Well~ the donkey doesn't, but I have a strong mule there. The owner of the grain store could not afford to pay for the house for half a year, so he sold the mule to me at a discount. I was going to sell it to a nearby manor after the beginning of spring, but I can sell it to you if you want. The fat old man, who was suffering from nowhere to keep the mule, boasted even harder about how strong the mule was and how shiny its fur was.

Art was a little tempted, although the mule eats more than the donkey, but the mule is heavier, faster, and has more stamina.

Art and the old man agreed to go to the place where the old man kept his mule at sunset, and then returned to the inn.

At this moment the inn began to be lively again, and in the corner by the window, a squire from the suburbs, a merchant in a bright woolen winter coat, and a few freedmen of the city gathered around a knight, listening intently to his account of the dangers and anecdotes of his wars and journeys.

The knight had a big beard, but he was not very old; Broad-shouldered, tall, but thin, with short brown hair on his head, he wore a leather tunic with traces of iron armor, a belt strung with copper buckles, and a short knife with a scabbard attached to it, and a long sword for travelling at his waist.

They sat there and talked, and from time to time they glanced at the innkeeper and asked him to pour him wine.

"Noble knight, you have seen a lot of the world!" One of the citizens said.

"Yes! Not many of you have seen such a world. The knight replied proudly.

"In the future, I will be more and more, I have been to the city of Bogdin in the south of Provence last year, where it is prosperous and rich...", the merchant looked fascinated.

"Where's Bogdan?" A citizen interrupted.

"Man, you should ask where it used to be, because it's gone. This summer the Duke of Wittot instructed the Count of Wald Burley to capture Bogdan, which was burned and everything was robbed; The citizens also fled. The neighboring peasants fled to the forest, and the land was deserted. The knight sighed.

Art, who had just stepped on the wooden ladder with his left foot, felt a chuckle in his heart, the name "Wald Burley" was too harsh, it was this robber-born "earl" who designed to frame and annex the territory of the Wells family, and then constantly sent people to hunt down and kill the Wells father and son, trying to cut down the grass and eradicate the future trouble.

"I have heard that there is going to be a war, and the Duke of Vradis of Provence cannot bear the barbarism of the Duchy of Lombardy, and has sent the Marquis of Coray to garrison Vilno, north of Bogdan, with the Count of Olesny to the north of the continent. I have purchased the armor and horses I need to go on my expedition, and I am ready to go to Count Oresny......" the knight's high voice continued.

For a whole morning, Art's soul was in agony, and the knight's words ignited the flame of revenge of the original owner, and the chaos was coming, and it was a perfect opportunity for him to follow the knight to Count Oresný, who would personally behead Walderbury and wash away his disgrace with Walderbury's blood......

But as soon as the blood boiled, the new master of this body poured cold water on it again.

Regardless of whether he could defeat Wad Burley, who had an army of robbers, Art was now just a hunter hidden in the valley, a strong lamb, and the army of Count Oresny could be a light foot soldier or archer, and if he was lucky, he might be a peasant captain.

And then what? was used as cannon fodder for a battle charge, buried under a certain piece of wet turf; Or a subi who was cut off in an arm during a siege and spent the rest of his life hanging his other arm in a dark corner waiting for a well-wisher to throw him down......

"That's not what you want!! Did you come back to this world to die for others? You are not afraid of death, but you can't die in vain! Have you forgotten your father's last words, "until the lamb becomes a lion"? "The two souls in Art's body are constantly fighting and fighting......

It was not until noon that reason prevailed over impulse......

Sweaty, white-faced and black-lipped, Yate shuffled out of the room.

A bowl of pea broth and a piece of rye bread, Art regained his blood color after a brief lunch, leaving a pfennig meal money and five pfennig room fees, and Art went back to his room to get the goods and leave the tavern door.

The sun was about to set, and Art came out of the last tailor's shop in a sweat. For the whole afternoon Art walked among the tanners, fur shops, and tailors, and to the mouth of the tanners and merchants, Art's fur was as cheap as a leaf from the ground, and Art repeated the toil and danger of the hunt, and the smoothness of his fur......

Eventually, a good quality bear skin sold for only 120 pfennigs in the fur shop, and a mediocre deerskin was exchanged for 60 pfennigs, as deerskins became more and more scarce as the Imperial Forest laws became stricter. A slightly damaged wolf's skin was sold to a tanner for twenty fennies, and five fox skins and six mink skins were exchanged for a hundred fennigs at the tailor's shop; Thirty pounds of smoked venison were exchanged for twenty-five pfennighs in the back kitchen of the lord's hall.

As for the remaining piles of hares, squirrels, and other small animals, the furriers picked and discarded twelve finnigs.

Art was a little helpless, the great bazaar had passed, a large number of merchant caravans had left Tinetz, the prices of many commodities had begun to fall, and the toil and adventure of the whole autumn had been exchanged for less than three hundred and forty pfennigs.

When we came to the base of the city wall, which is located on the southeast side of the free market, the sun was only shining. Except for the large and small markets, it is usually very quiet, and many simple wooden huts and straw mats are empty. Following the fat old man's instructions, Art quickly found the improvised sheepfold.

The fat old man was tiptoeing around, and he was worried that the young man would not come, and he would have to pay for the mule.

"God, you're finally here, but you're freezing to death old man," the fat old man rubbed his hands and took a few steps forward.

"Uncle, I'm not coming, it's getting dark, let's take a look at the mules." Art's eyes were immediately drawn to the mule.

This is a prime-aged horse mule. It has a thick head, slightly longer ears, slightly thinning limbs, narrow hooves, a short blue-black mane, a long tail, and is about five and a half feet tall, more similar to a horse in height and stature, and has a donkey-like voice and neighing features.

"Dude, satisfied? Although this guy eats a little more than a donkey, he doesn't choose food, is easy to feed, has a lot of strength, and has a lot of stamina......" The fat old man saw Yate's expression, and this deal was probably successful.

Art really likes this strong mule, and can't help but approach it to touch the fur, look at the teeth, and pat the shoulders and buttocks~

"Uncle, tell me a price." Art spoke heartily.

Art bought the mule for seven hundred and fifty pfennighels. That night, a contract of sale was signed at the fat old man's house, and of course Art did not leave his real name, but drew a cross.

............

Art was about to return home, and early in the morning he led the mule with his bow and sword to the saddlemaker's shop.

The Saddlemaker was a bald, white-bearded old man who had been apprenticed to the saddle shop since he was fifteen years old and was now Tiniec's oldest saddlemaker. There were seven or eight saddles of various colors hanging on the wall of the saddle shop, ranging from delicate and ornate yew cowhide and silver saddles to unpretentious pine iron panniers, but Art was attracted by a birch leather and iron saddle.

"Child, you are very discerning, half a month ago a bearded knight came here and handed me a drawing for me to make this saddle, this saddle left and right saddle boards are very ordinary, but the front and rear saddle sheath are very different......" The old saddler touched his beard and walked to Art's side to introduce it in detail.

Art had seen this improved Mamluk saddle in Jerusalem when he had joined his father in the jihad. Art was severely wounded by Saladin's cavalry riding in this saddle......

Returning to the saddle shop, after Art explained his intentions, the old saddler asked the apprentice to take the green mule and measure the shoulder-width bust.

"Kid, you're in a hurry, and I don't have a proper saddle here. Well, if you don't mind, I've got some old saddles and discarded saddles here, and I'll soon be able to make a saddle for your mules. "The old saddler came up with an expedient solution.

Art gladly accepted the old saddler's advice.

While the old saddler and apprentice were making saddles, Art was moving through Tinetz's grain shops, bakeries, blacksmiths, weapons shops, tailors' shops, and general stores.

He spent forty pfennigs on sixty pounds of hulled wheat at the grain store by the church, and ten three-pound rye loaves at the bakery with thirty pfennigs; A thick linen long-sleeved winter coat cost him eighty pfennigs, a flat axe, a saw, an iron chisel, a steel file, and a few wedges for sixty pfennigs, a repaired old sheepskin bow sac of five puffins for weapons, and finally a pack of coarse salt weighing about a pound, a small clay pot of strong ale, and a few trivial items at the grocery store for twenty pfennigs.

The sun began to set in the west, and when Art came to the saddle shop with a large bag of things, the old saddler and the apprentice were saddle the green mule.

The hastily remade saddle is not exquisite, with a pine-inlaid iron-skinned saddle with a soft and hard double saddle drawer, a sturdy leather belly belt, a pair of old horseshoe, repaired pedaled leather, two sheaths at the front and back, and a tail chief...... The old saddler was very careful, and changed the reins of the green mule, put a mattress cover, repaired the hooves, and nailed the shoes.

Art took out a silver mark and paid it to the old saddleman, refusing to accept the change. A complete set of leather saddles cost one hundred and forty puffines, and Art knew that the old saddler had made no money on the sale.

When he was ready to mount the mule, Art glanced back at the saddle on the wall, and after a moment's thought, he took a silver denier from his money bag and turned to give it to the old saddleman.

"Please attach a silver cross to the front of the saddle, and tell the bearded knight for me—may God be with him." Then he turned over his mule and walked away.

From Tinetz's saddle, the sky was already flushed with the setting sun, and the gate guards ignored the pedestrians and caravans leaving the city. When Art rode out of the city on the green mule, the three riders were returning to the city with about twenty lightly armed short-speared infantrymen, who had been sent out by the county governor Viscount Dion five days earlier to exterminate the robbers.

The leader of the procession, the Knight of the Banner, looked curiously at the tall green mule, which had a short traveling sword tied to the saddle on the left side, a set of horned hunting bows on the right, a bulging mattress sleeve tied to the sheath behind the saddle, and a young man with a white complexion, long hair and short beard, eyes like eagles' falcons, dressed in a long linen lining, and a bearskin coat on the top of the middle saddle.

Art bowed his head, lightly clamped his mule's belly, and walked away quickly.