The elder Hassan and his party, after separating from Lothar, turned around and went to the port of Ella.

It may be more convenient to go by sea.

But the pirates of the Red Sea were not vegetarians, and these lads of the tribe were good at land warfare, but they were all landlubbers who had never been on a ship.

Although it has been heard that there have been fewer and fewer pirates on the high seas lately, only the Holy Flame knows if this news is the news that the greedy pirates have released on their own initiative when they see that they can't catch fat sheep.

Hassan Sr. and his tribe, surrounded by alien Hejaz, instinctively had a deep wariness of everything around them.

Coupled with the fact that they are inland, the information they get has been lagging behind for a long time.

This is also the norm in this era, and many people have traveled farthest afield, that is, to nearby towns.

"Father, are we really going to do business on Lothar's turf? Otherwise, let's sell our goods in Aqaba and go back. ”

Young Kurdish fighters are dressed in leather armor with deep apprehension and unease on their faces.

Old Hassan sighed lightly.

"In Aqaba, the goods we bring can't be sold at a high price, and if we sell them there, it is better to sell them directly in Yanbu, and we can save the commercial taxes drawn along the way."

"Hopefully, that Lothar butcher hasn't lost his mind to the point of attacking the caravan."

The Kurdish fighters clenched the weapons in their hands and were a little nervous.

Because they were close to the territory of those crusader demons.

In the distance, dust flies.

It was as if there was a gust of wind, carrying tons of yellow sand towards this side.

"Father, is it a sandstorm?"

The young Kurdish fighter wondered.

Old Hassan just glanced at it, and his face changed instantly: "It's a robber!" Come on! ”

Bedouin bandits who come and go like the wind, but it doesn't matter if you're your own or not.

"Father, how can we say that we are also a tribe sheltered by Rauf, they won't do anything to us, right?"

The young Kurdish fighter wondered.

A trace of anger flashed on Old Hassan's face: "Shut up, listen to my orders, everyone run!" ”

Maybe it won't do anything to them.

But at the very least, a layer of skin has to be stripped off, and then counting the commercial taxes along the way, so what is there to toss, it is better to dispose of all the goods directly in Yanbu, and save such a trip in vain.

The robbers are getting closer.

Bactrian camels laden with goods, in terms of speed, are obviously no match for the Bedouin robbers who travel lightly and ride dromedary.

But as they crossed a half-dried river, the Bedouin robbers came to a halt.

In the distance, you can still hear their unwilling cursing.

"They didn't catch up?"

Old Hassan and the young men of the tribe couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness for the rest of their lives.

They were almost overtaken.

A Bactrian camel even had a Bedouin metal arrow on its buttocks, but fortunately it was not very strong, just pull it out and apply some herbs.

But at this moment.

The robbers who were wandering unwillingly behind turned around and walked away without dragging their feet.

Looking at their movements, they were quite panicked.

Old Hassan was startled, and subconsciously looked back, only to see that in his sight, a flying double-headed eagle flag appeared on the hillside in the distance.

The majestic ironclad knights, with wings on their backs, slowly appeared on the hillside.

They are quiet, solemn, like statues, but they seem to be pouring down from the hillside like a collapsing torrent at any moment, giving people a sense of extreme horror and oppression.

"Oh no, it's the devil with the cross."

"They're not going to do anything to us, are they?"

"Who knows?"

Hassan Sr. was pessimistic about this.

In his mind, the demons who wore the cross were even more cruel and tyrannical than the Bedouin robbers.

Especially those Normans.

Even on the continent, many knights who had no livelihood would often make cameo appearances as robbers, and there were even cases of robbing nuns, which made all knights and the church disgraced.

But fortunately.

These knights with wings on their backs just looked at them from a distance, and did not make any movements.

It was a long time before a man rode a horse in front of old Hassan.

Old Hassan hurriedly stretched out his hand to stop the young clansmen in the group who couldn't hold back and put their hands on their weapons.

He knew very well that in front of this terrifying ironclad cavalry, they would only be slaughtered like lambs.

"You're merchants, aren't you?"

The attitude of the visitor did not seem domineering, but asked in a very skillful Arabic language.

"We are the patrol team under the Count of Lothar, and I am the master chief of the Ulm Knights."

Old Hassan was shocked and immediately realized that the knight was also a Bedouin.

Treacherous!

This is definitely a traitor!

He was disdainful in his heart, but said with a smile on his face: "Yes, that's right, we plan to go to Port Ella to do business. ”

The knight bowed slightly: "Good vision, what goods have you brought?" ”

As soon as these words came out, the Kurdish fighters became nervous again.

Old Hassan hurriedly appeased, reprimanded a few words, and replied honestly: "Salt, cured meat, cheese, and some ores. ”

The knight did not take the opportunity to blackmail, nor did he intend to check, but said with a pleasant face: "The commercial tax to be paid for the goods you bring is very low, and tax evasion will only outweigh the losses - in the territory of Lord Earl, as long as you do not evade taxes, you will be protected by the laws of the territory, and you can ask us at any time if you have any needs." ”

Old Hassan was stunned, he didn't expect such a good thing to happen at all.

"Let's go."

The knight waved his hand and headed straight back to the group.

Old Hassan and the others looked at each other, and some of the young people were ready for a desperate battle, and they didn't expect to be able to pass the test so easily.

Walking out of the distance, someone exclaimed:

"They really didn't catch up!"

Old Hassan was speechless for a while, and he couldn't help but recall what the young Franconian man he met on the road said.

"Perhaps, the imam is really lying to us."

His expression changed.

The deeper you go, the more barren you go, the greenery that you have.

There are a lot of oases here, and there are a lot of farms that depend on the oases.

The majestic elevated canal pours water from nowhere in the fields.

On the road, there were more and more caravans like them.

Camel bells burst and people were noisy.

"Is this the domain of the Count of Lothar?"

A group of tribesmen from the countryside couldn't help but murmur in their hearts.

Although they have not seen much of the world, they are not stupid pigs, and if the ruler here is really as brutal as the imam said, how can there be such a vibrant scene?

How could a caravan that was obviously much better dressed and larger than them come here?

In the afternoon.

They finally saw the walls of Port Ayla from afar.

The towering and majestic Siegfried Tower amazed them.

Traveling with him, the knowledgeable merchant smiled and said, "I heard that this tower was built by the Count of Lothar overnight with the help of the power of the gods, and the Franks privately call him the Holy Son, but this Count of Lothar never allows people to call him that. ”

Built overnight?

Old Hassan looked at the majestic, miraculous tower, and his face showed a hint of disapproval.

How is this possible!

Queue up to enter the city, finally have to deal with the inspection.

The team staggered and moved forward slowly.

But there was still no such thing as the old Hassan expected to eat and take cards, and the soldiers with bright armor just dutifully checked whether they were carrying contraband.

"Father, look!"

The young Kurdish fighter pointed to the bulletin board next to him.

On the bulletin board, there is an interesting mural depiction: a Saracen nobleman with a sharp knife against the neck of a poor man, but behind him is a handsome man in a double-headed eagle cloak, like a savior.

There is also a line written on it: He saved us from the mouth of the jackal.

Old Hassan chewed on these words, and in his heart, an idea that what he said was actually very reasonable.

In Rauf's territory, elite Mamluks will not be sent out to serve as patrols to deal with bandits.

They are even the biggest robbers in their own right!

The thought of the heavy taxes that Rauf had imposed on their tribe made him feel a itch of hatred.

"Don't be shaken, old Hassan, take another look, look deeper, and know whether this Count of Lothar is a jackal or a just virtuous king."

(End of chapter)