People in the Middle Ages, draw cards to get promoted

Chapter 260 Old Hassan's Experience

Old Hassan and his party, after parting with Lothar, diverted to Port Ella.

It may be more convenient to go by sea.

But the pirates on the Red Sea are not vegetarians. These boys in the tribe are good at land battles, but they are all landlubbers who have never been on a ship.

Although I heard that there are fewer and fewer pirates on the high seas recently, only the holy fire knows whether this news is the news released by the greedy pirates who saw that they could not catch the fat sheep.

Old Hassan and his tribe, surrounded by alien Hijaz, were instinctively wary of everything around them.

Coupled with the fact that they live inland and the news is blocked, the information they got has lagged behind for a long time.

This is also the norm in this era, and many people have traveled to the furthest places, which are nearby towns.

"Father, do we really want to go to the butcher Lothar's territory to do business? Or, let's sell the goods in Aqaba and return."

The young Kurdish fighter was wearing leather armor, with deep worry and anxiety on his face.

Old Hassan sighed softly.

"In Aqaba, the goods we bring can't be sold at a high price. If we sell them there, we might as well sell them directly in Yanbu, and save the commercial tax collected along the way."

"I hope that Lothar butcher hasn't gone mad enough to attack the caravan."

The Kurdish fighter clenched the weapon in his hand, a little nervous.

Because they are very close to the territory of those crusader demons.

In the distance, the dust is flying.

It seemed that there was a gust of wind, carrying tons of yellow sand and hitting here.

"Father, is it a sandstorm?"

The young Kurdish fighter wondered.

Old Hassan just took a look, and his face changed instantly: "It's a robber! Run!"

Bedouin bandits come and go like the wind, no matter whether you are one of us or not.

"Father, we are also the tribe protected by Rauf. They won't do anything to us, will they?"

The young Kurdish fighter wondered.

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

Maybe it really won't do anything to them.

But at the very least, a layer of skin has to be peeled off, and if the commercial tax along the way is included, what's the fuss? It's better to dispose of all the goods directly in Yanbu, and save such a trip in vain.

The robbers are getting closer.

The Bactrian camels loaded with goods, in terms of speed, are obviously not the opponents of the Bedouin bandits riding on dromedary camels.

But as they crossed a half-dry river, the Bedouin bandits stopped in unison.

From a distance, they could still hear their unwilling curses.

"They didn't catch up?"

Old Hassan and a group of young men in the tribe couldn't help but feel lucky to survive the catastrophe.

They were almost overtaken.

There was even a metal arrowhead used by Bedouins pierced into the buttocks of a Bactrian camel. Fortunately, the force was not strong, and it was enough to pull it out and apply some herbs.

But right now.

The robbers wandering behind reluctantly turned around and left without delay.

Seeing their actions, they were quite panicked.

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

With wings on their backs, the majestic armored knights slowly appeared on the hillside.

They are quiet and solemn, like statues, but they seem to be like torrents of collapse at any time, pouring down from the hillside, giving people an extremely terrifying sense of oppression.

"Oops, it's the devil wearing the cross."

"They won't do anything to us, will they?"

"Who knows?"

Old Hassan was pessimistic about it.

In his impression, those demons wearing crosses were more cruel and tyrannical than the Bedouin bandits.

Especially those Normans.

Even in Europe, many knights who have no livelihood will often act as robbers, and there have even been cases of robbing nuns, which makes all knights and churches feel bad.

But luckily.

These winged knights just looked at them from afar without any movement.

After a long time, only one person rode his horse to the front of Old Hassan.

Old Hassan quickly stretched out his hand to stop the young people in the team who couldn't help but put their hands on their weapons.

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

"You are merchants, right?"

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

"We are the patrol team under Earl Lothar, and I am the Master Chief of the Ulm Knights."

Old Hassan was startled, and soon discovered that the knight was also a Bedouin.

Betrayal!
This is definitely a betrayer!
He was scornful 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 nodded slightly: "You have a good eye, what goods have you brought?"

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

Old Hassan hurriedly comforted him, reprimanded him a few words, and replied honestly: "Salt, bacon, cheese, and some ores."

The knight didn't take the opportunity to blackmail, and didn't plan to check, but said kindly: "The goods you bring are subject to very low commercial taxes, and tax evasion will not pay off—in the territory of the Earl, as long as you don't evade taxes, As long as they are protected by the laws of the territory, if you have any needs, you can ask us at any time."

Old Hassan was taken aback for a moment, completely unaware of such a good thing.

"Let's go."

The knight waved his hand and went straight back to the team.

Old Hassan and everyone looked at each other in blank dismay. Some young people were ready for a desperate fight, and they never expected to pass the test so easily.

After walking a long way, someone exclaimed:
"They really didn't catch up!"

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

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

His expression changed for a while.

The deeper you go, the original barrenness is gradually replaced by greenery.

There are very dense oases here, and there are a large number of farms relying on the oasis distribution.

The majestic elevated aqueduct waters the fields with water from nowhere.

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

Camel bells burst out, and people's voices were noisy.

"Is this the territory of Earl Lothar?"

A group of tribal people who came from the countryside couldn't help muttering in their hearts.

Although they haven't seen the world much, they are not stupid pigs. If the ruler here is as cruel as the imam said, how can there be such a vibrant scene?
How could those caravans that were clearly dressed much better than them and had a larger scale come here?

in the afternoon.

They finally saw the walls of Port Ella in the distance.

The soaring and majestic Siegfried Tower made them marvel.

Together, the knowledgeable businessman said with a smile: "I heard that this tower was built overnight by the Earl of Lothar with the help of the power of the gods. The Franks call him the Holy Son in private, but this Earl of Lothar But people were never allowed to call him that."

Built overnight?

Old Hassan looked at the majestic, miraculous giant tower with a look of indifference on his face.

how can that be!

After queuing into the city, it was finally time to deal with the inspection.

The team dawdled and moved forward slowly.

But it still didn't happen that the old Hassan expected to eat Naka. 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: a Saracen nobleman stands proudly, holding a sharp knife against the neck of a poor man, but behind him a handsome man in a cape of a double-headed eagle appears like a savior.

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

Old Hassan chewed on these words, and in his heart, a kind of thought that what was said above was actually quite reasonable.

In Rauf's territory, the elite Mamluks would not be sent out as patrols to deal with robbers.

What's more, they themselves are the biggest robbers!

When he thought of the heavy taxes that Rauf had imposed on his tribe, he felt itchy with hatred.

"Old Hassan, don't waver. You have to take another look, and take a deeper look to know whether this Earl of Lothar is a jackal or a just and virtuous king."

(End of this chapter)