A small incident made Art feel a little excited, "The first life was humble enough, how can I be bullied by a few local dogs in the second life? But next time I can't pass through Lane Manor easily.

.”

The rest of the journey was in a good mood. It wasn't until the moon hung over the treetops that Art opened the shepherd's small stone hut and exchanged two rabbit skins for a bowl of hot soup and wheat paste and a bed made of hay.

…

As soon as it got light, he set off again.

At sunset on the fourth day after leaving the valley, the tall spire of Tyniec Church was already faintly visible.

Hurrying slowly, Art arrived in Tyniec in one day less than usual.

Viewed from a raised hill, Tyniec not far away was dyed a deep red with golden light by the setting sun.

Tyniec is a square wooden and stone castle common in the Central European plains. It was expanded based on the military fortress during the Roman Empire. The castle has a circumference of about 1,600 feet, a length of 400 feet on all sides, a height of 30 feet, and a thickness of seven feet.

It is surrounded by stone walls. There are four round wooden arrow towers (watchtowers) built at the four corners of the city wall that are ten feet higher than the city wall and can accommodate six defenders.

There is a giant double oak door twelve feet high and ten feet wide inlaid with iron bars on the north and south of the city wall. A hard dirt road about ten feet wide runs across the north and south. The interior of the castle is neatly divided into four parts with the road as the boundary.

It is a free market dominated by low wooden houses surrounded by fences; in the southwest, there are mostly commercial blocks with slightly neatly arranged wooden and stone structures, including double-story houses (rich areas), taverns, leather goods shops, weapons shops, blacksmith shops, and tailor shops.

; To the northwest is the slave market; to the northeast are chaotic and dense slums, where refugees, beggars, and bankrupt farmers gather...

The square castle-style lord's hall is located in the center of the castle, looking across the north-south avenue from the Tyniec Church with square walls, domes and stone towers. This castle with a long history is the home of Ivre, the Marquis of Burgundy.

One of the direct fiefs of A. Otto, it is managed by the Marquis' retainer, Viscount Pierre Dieng.

When Art arrived at the South City Gate, the sun had already set below the horizon.

"Stop, open the baggage for inspection!" A city gate guard holding a short spear, wearing cotton armor, a sheepskin jacket, and a semicircular helmet stopped At.

Art took off his rabbit fur felt hat, revealed his face, and smiled at the guard. This was not the Lane Manor, and Art had to keep a low profile.

The guard recognized Art and slowly put away his short spear. Art gently pushed the guard's shoulder, took him aside, stretched out his hand and handed over five pfennigs, which was equivalent to two fenni for a young and strong city worker.

Three days' pay.

The guard looked around, then turned around and told Art that he had to take out five pfennigs because the tax collector at the city gate had changed, and he had to give the new tax collector some sweeteners, otherwise Art, a big bag of furry mountain goods, would definitely have to pay heavy taxes.

Art looked at the tax collector sitting behind a long wooden table at the city gate, nodded to the guard, and took out five pfennigs from his purse. The guard took the copper coins and put them into the pocket sewn on the inside of his leather jacket.

In the money bag, he turned around and nodded to the tax collector and another guard at the city gate...

Art, who had paid the "special commercial tax", was not interrogated by the tax collector when he walked into the city gate. Art and his large bag of fur mountain products passed by the tax collector like air~

"Everywhere you go, you must be virtuous, and money is God's messenger!" Art slandered.

However, Art was still very happy. According to the standard of "ten taxes and one tax", Art's bag of furs needed to pay a commercial tax of approximately forty pfennigs. Because he knew the city guards, he only paid a "special commercial tax of ten pfennigs."

If you pay "tax", you can enter the city smoothly.

After passing through the city gate, Art went straight to the southwest side of the castle, where there was an inn that was both a tavern and an inn. After paying the owner five pfennigs, Art was taken to the second floor of the inn by a bartender.

In a small room. Art put down his bag, took out three penny coins, turned around and handed them to the bartender, and ordered the bartender to bring a decent dinner to the room.

After a while, the bartender brought dinner on a tray - a small piece of fine wheat bread, a bowl of wheat paste with coarse salt, two pieces of roast pork, an apple broth in a clay pot and a glass of the inn's home-brewed wine.

Sour fruit wine. After finishing this expensive dinner like a storm, Art's internal organs were greatly satisfied.

After dinner, and after rejecting the tavern girl who knocked on the door, Art dove into the sheepskin blanket on the wooden bed. It wasn't that Art was being clean, it was just because he felt that living was not easy.

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

The early morning sun stung Art's eyes, and Art shook his heavy head and walked out of the room. It was obvious that Art had not slept well. The noise of the drunkards downstairs last night continued late into the night.

Arriving on the first floor, there were 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 to a young bartender who was about 13 or 14 years old.

"Bring me something simple." He said and handed over a penny. The bartender took the penny and turned around and walked into the tavern kitchen.

Art rubbed his eyes and looked through the wooden lattice window at the alley outside the hotel. The heavy snow a few days ago had melted and turned into puddles in the mud. At the alley, there were several vendors carrying baskets selling apple bread.

City residents in twos and threes passed through the alley with their necks hunched, rushing to their respective places of survival. This southern castle came to life.

"Please take your time." The bartender brought a bowl of cereal with a wooden spoon.

After finishing his cereal in a few mouthfuls, Art picked up the change of two sopes from the tray and asked the bartender to hand it to him. This was a small copper coin produced locally, and roughly six sopes could be exchanged for a pfennig.

The little bartender happily took the two soubies, and looked at Art with a hint of flattery. You must know that in the city of Tyniec, the daily salary of a prime-year laborer who takes care of his own food and accommodation is only two pfennigs, and the food and accommodation is not enough.

The live-in bartender's salary was only five pfennigs a week, which worked out to a daily wage of less than five sop.

"Man, I want to buy a pack donkey, but the big winter market has passed, and the small market has to wait for about ten days. Do you know where else can sell it now?" Art wants to buy a pack donkey.

He earns some money by transporting game animals and furs, otherwise he would not be able to change the status quo on his own in his lifetime.

The little bartender lowered his head and thought for a moment, then turned around and muttered a few words to the other bartender.

"The mule and horse caravan has left, but last month a grain trading house in the north of the city went bankrupt. The grain house used to have a lot of packhorses for transporting grain. Some time ago, the mule and horse caravan bought a large number of them. There may be some left.

You can try your luck." The bartender ran over and told Art.

Art asked for the detailed address of the bankrupt grain store and asked the bartender to help him take care of the goods before leaving the inn. The bankrupt grain store is located in a row of stone houses on the northwest side near the slave market. The door of the bankrupt grain store is ajar, and there is an open space in front of the door.

There was no trace of the packhorse on the hitching post.

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

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

reminder.

"Good day, sir, I heard that there is a batch of draft horses for sale in the grain store, and I plan to try my luck." Art bowed slightly to the fat old man.

"Haha, man, I'm not a gentleman. I'm just a commoner and the owner of this house. It seems you are out of luck. As you can see, the cattle have been sold out and the owner of the grain store also left Tyniec last night.

, Poor guy, the entire grain transport caravan was killed by bandits, and his only son was not spared." The fat old man sighed in a low voice, and drew the Holy Cross on his chest with his right hand.

"Thank you, God is with you." Art said and turned and left.

"Hey, man, what kind of animal are you going to buy? A pack horse?" As soon as Art took a few steps, the fat old man stopped him.

Art didn't want to waste 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 goods.

"Well~ I don't have a donkey, but I do have a strong mule at my place. The owner of the grain store couldn't pay the rent for the past six months, so he sold the mule to me at a discount. He planned to sell it to a nearby manor after the spring. You

I can sell it to you if you want." The fat old man was struggling with nowhere to raise the mule, so he boasted even more vigorously about how strong the mule was and how shiny its fur was.

Art was a little tempted by what he said. Although mules eat more and consume more food than donkeys, mules carry heavier loads, run faster, and have greater endurance.

Art and the old man agreed to visit the place where the old man temporarily stored his mules at sunset, and then returned to the inn.

At this time, the inn became lively again. In the corner by the window, a squire from the suburbs, a businessman in a bright woolen winter coat and several free people from the city were surrounding a knight and listening to him attentively.

Tells about various adventures and anecdotes experienced in the war and on the journey.

This knight has a big beard, but he is not very old. He has broad shoulders, a tall figure, but is very thin. He has short brown hair on his head, wears a leather coat with traces of iron armor, and is tied with a copper buckle.

On his belt was a short knife with a horny scabbard, and a long sword for traveling hung around his waist.

They just sat there chatting, and from time to time they looked at the innkeeper and asked him to pour some wine.

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

"Yes! Not many of you have seen this kind of world." The knight replied proudly.

"There will be more in the future. I went to the city of Bogdan in the south of Provence last year. The prosperity and wealth there..." The businessman looked fascinated.

"Where is Bogdan?" a citizen interrupted.

"Man, you should ask where its old site is, because it is no longer there. This summer, Duke Witott ordered Count Walder Burley to capture Bogdan. Bogdan was burned down and everything was looted.

There is no light; all the citizens have fled. The neighboring farmers have fled into the forest, and the land has become barren." The knight sighed.

Art's heart skipped a beat as he stepped onto the wooden ladder with his left foot. The name "Ward Burley" was too harsh. It was this robber-turned-Earl who designed the frame-up and annexation of the Wells family's territory.

He also continued to send people to hunt down the Wells father and son, in an attempt to eliminate the root cause and avoid future troubles. The memories of these original owners were mixed into Art's thoughts, but these are no longer important to Art today.

"I heard that there is going to be a war. The Duke of Provence cannot stand the barbaric behavior of the Lombardy Principality. He has sent the Marquis of Corray to lead the army to station in Verno, north of Bogdan, and then sent Count Olesny to the north of the mainland to gather troops.

Army. I have purchased the armor and horses needed for the expedition and am preparing to go to Count Olesny..." The knight's high voice continued.

The knight's words ignited Art's flame. In troubled times, this is an excellent opportunity...

But just as his blood was boiling, Art poured out another ladle of cold water to extinguish his passion. Now his identity is just a hunter who hid in the valley to escape pursuit, a strong lamb, and went to Count Olesny.

If the army is lucky, they may be hired as mercenaries because of their excellent martial arts and sophisticated equipment. Then what? They will be used as cannon fodder in a certain battle, buried under a certain piece of wet turf; or in a certain battle, they will be hired as mercenaries.

One of his arms was cut off during the siege, and for the rest of his life he spent the rest of his life hiding in a dark corner with his other arm hanging, waiting for a soubi dropped by a well-meaning passerby...

Living two lives as a human being was not what he wanted.

A bowl of pea soup and a piece of rye bread. After a simple lunch, Art left one pfennig for the meal and five pfennig for the room. Art then went back to his room, picked up the goods and left the tavern door.

The sun was almost setting, and Art came out of the last tailor shop dripping with sweat. Throughout the afternoon, Art walked among tanners, fur shops and tailor shops. Among the tanners and merchants, Art

His fur was as cheap as leaves picked from the ground. Art kept repeating the hard work and danger of hunting, and the smooth color of his fur...

In the end, a high-quality bearskin was sold in the fur shop for only 120 pfennigs, while a mediocre deer skin was exchanged for 60 pfennigs, because as the empire's forest laws became more stringent, deer skins

Skins became more and more in demand. A slightly damaged wolf skin was sold to a tanner for twenty pfennigs, five fox skins and six mink skins were exchanged for one hundred pfennigs at the tailor's shop; thirty pounds of smoked skins were sold to a tanner.

The venison was exchanged for twenty-five pfennigs in the kitchen of the lord's hall.
To be continued...