By noon the first results from the catch were summed up. It turned out not everything is as rosy as he supposed. The fact is that from under the cottages, with which they were covered, it was visible only the individual parts of the armor. However, the overall picture was not visible. The bodies were undressed and stacked neatly by the trees, twenty paces from the remnants of the fire. And before the cooled coals there was a bunch of various junk that Eric was trying to sort and evaluate. It was clear that it did not make any sense to take everything, and it was not possible to carry it off, because for a night the horseshoe horses fled, having felt the blood and greatly frightened. So he could only rely on his horse and the two that he could find in the ravine, from where they could not get out. Out of the armor he received a dozen helmets of the spangelhelm type in good condition, six rivet mail in a condition close to slippage, three aketons and two coifs from riveted rings. Of the weapons were six copies with leaf-shaped tips and eight axes. All the rest was in a terrible state, so it took a lot of time to remove the metal from these, completely killed things. For example, it was very tedious to cut off the sewn pieces of chain mail to the old, torn aketon. Spears and axes, by the way, were removed from the shaft and stacked in a bag, so that they did not take up much space. It was decided not to take clothes, as it was stained with blood, and, in general, could cause trouble. The money was not too thick, only sixteen denarii and a handful of obols. One of the deceased was found a letter to some Italian, which set out trading information with names, names, prices and some recommendations. Comparing the information from the letter with the property, Eric came to the conclusion that the guys were hired people, who was contracted by some trading house, he also equiped. One thing was strange - why did the mercenaries behave so carelessly? Is it possible that at night the bandits do not attack? Or were they just inexperienced? In bags on horse-drawn horses they carried food for a rather long journey. From the foodstuffs, jerky, salt and bread were taken for a week's journey, on which the sorting of the property was completed, and it was time to cover up the tracks. The young baron approached the corpses and began to look around. In fifteen steps, behind the trees, he saw a small ravine, quite deep, to accommodate both comrades and their possessions. At the bottom, he laid the corpses, put all their belongings on top, which he did not take with them. Above he planted leaves and branches. The desire to burn them, he dismissed quite quickly, since the smoke and stench of burnt meat, can attract other people. When he had finished his work in the parking lot, he packed the khabar with clockwork horses and, tying them with bridles, behind the saddle in front of him, again drove towards Augsburg.
The next two days, Eric moved extremely cautiously, stopping at night only in large inns, and on the road moved in fragments, avoiding any suspicious fellow travelers and protracted conversations. On the morning of the third day, a dozen miles of the road, a small village emerged from behind the turn. There it was very noisy and from the outskirts there was absolutely no people to be seen. Having held the horses, the young baron jumped to the ground and cocked the crossbow, sat back in the saddle, and, holding his weapon on the ready, moved to the village. Something strange happened there. In the square stood a crowd, in the center of which, on the barrel stood a priest, at his feet was a bound young woman. The sight of this poor thing was pretty sad: clothes are torn in many places, many abrasions and bruises, all dirty in mud and own blood. Eric drove up to the crowd a dozen steps away. The cries subsided and everyone looked at him.
" Who is this woman? " Asked von Lenzburg in Latin in a most heavy, almost buzzing voice. He said and almost did not flinch, because he did not even suspect that he had such a useful and loud voice if bellowed.
"This woman is a helper of Satan, Irish," the priest answered politely and bowed. "Forgive my impudence, but what made the noble gentleman visit our humble village? "
" I'm just passing through here. "I was attracted to the noise that you arranged. What exactly did she do?
"She poisoned the cows from the venerable husband Henrik.
"What are you going to do with it? "
"We want to sink her noble lord. "
"Who judged her? "
" We tried it with the whole world. "The decision was taken unanimously.
"And who owns this village? "
"To the honorable Sir Harald. "
"Why did you dare neglect his trial? "
Then a huge man with an ax jumped out of the crowd and, stepping on a pair of cases forward, stood in half-turned and roared with a thick bass:
He did not have time to finish the conversation, since the bolt lay neatly in his ear. Eric slowly lowered the crossbow, looked around the silent crowd with an evil glance and in the same buzzing voice asked:
- Who else wants to express his respect to Baron Eric von Lenzburg?
The crowd was frightened in silence. Yeah, the pressure and arrogance - the second happiness. And our hero, not wanting to lose initiative, practically growled, taking out his sword from its scabbard:
" Get out of the square! " Running Dishonor! Harald learns - everyone hangs on the branches!
And he moved forward. Latin, of course, they did not know, but the tone with which these words were uttered, and the naked blade very stimulate inter-lingual communication. So, after half a minute, only a nervously sobbing woman remained in the square, the abbot of the village church, pale with fear, and the corpse of the unlucky ruffian. Arriving nearer to the priest and not getting off his horse, he lifted his drooping head with the end of the sword so that he would look into his eyes. He watched it for about five minutes. And then he said:
" Good man, do not take it for work, untie the rope on this woman and take us to her house. "You're a kind person, will you help me? "
The priest nodded quickly.
Ok. And afterwards you will bring her horse to her house under the saddle and, tying him to the fence, will do what the good people of this village have done. After all, do you want to return to your house, and lie down a bit on your favorite trestle, thinking about the inscrutability of the ways of our Lord Jesus Christ?
The priest again expressed his full consent. And the baron smiled at him in the most gracious way, and then, suddenly changing his face to a completely furious and malicious expression, he roared: