Temple Sword

Chapter 135 Escape
1321, Moon of the Holy Virgin (August)
southern hungary

---

A man with torn clothes, messy hair, and an unshaven beard emerged from somewhere in the forest.

On the outskirts of the Bulgarian White Castle, not far from the dirt road on the north bank of the Sava River.

He had been living in the forest for more than three weeks, and although there were countless dangers hidden in the bushes, they could escape the eyes of the hunters.Day after day he was hunted like a wild beast.

Laszlo has been on the run for nearly a month.The forests growing beside the Bega and Timis covered his tracks, and he wandered in the woods for a long time, not even knowing where he was or where he was going.

The only fortunate thing was that it was summer and the forest provided him with plenty of food, and although the wild berries kept him alive, they did not bring him much strength.

He never dared to sleep very long or deeply, for he was afraid both of the predators of the night and of the pursuit of Timisoara soldiers.

It was a full week before Laszlo made up his mind and tried to leave the forest.

He did this because, over the past two days, he had been spotting wolf tracks and fresh remains of animals with increasing frequency, and he feared that he had stepped into their hunting range, heading towards their lair. go ahead.

He also longed to be able to wash off his dirt in the river, quench his thirst with the water of the Timis River, or the Bega River, and he felt that he was closer to the Timis River.

His instincts were right, and when he first ventured out of the forest, the Timis River was babbling in front of him.In the afterglow of the setting sun, he could see the Bulgar White Fort and the tall gray city walls in the distance ahead.

I am far away from the royal city, he thought, and began to think about how to leave the kingdom without being discovered.

He is not far from where the Danube conceives the Timis, and perhaps a day's walk from where the Sava flows into the Danube.

He didn't know which way to go, but he knew he couldn't turn back, because that would definitely lead to death, and the river blocked his way ahead, and he didn't know where the bridge was, and he had no money to pay the ferryman.

In fact, he had nothing on him except a dirty and tattered shirt, trousers and shoes, and a sword hanging from his waist, except for a small bag containing...

He turned pale: he had forgotten that this half-full purse contained a great deal of money with which he had intended, not so long ago, on that dreadful night, to start his new life.

"I'm a fool!" he scolded himself aloud.

He began to count the money, but his heart was getting heavier and heavier.He could use the money to have someone quietly help him across the Danube, but where was he going to buy himself clothes, horses, and food without being recognized?

Who knows how far Timisoara's pursuers traveled, and in how many towns and villages they sought him?He is not a murderer from a small village. He killed a night watch guard in the royal capital, so he must prepare for the worst.

In the end, he quickly made a decision. He wanted to cross the Danube and find a place away from the walls of the Bulgarian White Castle to cross the river. He didn't know what to do next.

Laszlo's calculation was a bit wrong. It took him two full days to reach his destination instead of one day.

An old boatman was willing to help him, and even provided him with some bread, smoked ham, and a leather bag full of water, but the money he took from Laszlo was equal to his annual income.

The old man was not a fool. This ragged and messy man seemed to have gotten into some trouble and was evading legal sanctions.

But he said to himself that judgment is God's business, so it is better to turn a blind eye than to do something rash.

If any soldiers were looking for this guy, he'd be more than happy to help them out in exchange for some nice silver, and gold would be nicer of course...

Laszlo loved the way the ham swirled in his mouth, the smoky salty taste melting on his tongue, his eyes watering.

"Old man, do you have any wine?" Laszlo asked hoarsely when they were already in the middle of the river. "I really want to drink some wine. I haven't drunk anything other than stream water and river water for more than ten days..."

"I have wine, good sir, of course I have wine," said the old man innocently, "I have better wine than this ham, but we are now in the middle of the Danube..."

"So what?" Laszlo frowned.

"The wine is not on me, I have to turn back, and then we will cross the river again." The old boatman explained, and slowly stopped paddling. "So the price has to be one and a half times the original price, but if your lord is willing, we can go back and drink some wine before continuing to cross the river..."

"Go on, old man!" said Laszlo petulantly. "Keep your bar!"

As soon as they landed, the fugitive left without saying a word of thanks, and quickly disappeared into the forest.

He had had enough of living in the forest, but he couldn't go out in this attire, he had to at least put on a decent suit so that he wouldn't attract everyone's attention.

The ham would feed him for three days, the bread for four, and the waterskin was big enough to only need filling once a day.He always ventured out of the woods before dawn, crawled all the way to the river bank, and drank water only when he was too thirsty all day long.

After the bread was gone, he lived on raspberries, strawberries and blackberries.

After a few days, he began to despair, as he had only three options before him: either turn himself in at the nearest town and be executed there, or wander the forest until starvation or the frost that came months later would kill him die, or simply jump into the Sava River and let the river carry him away.

All three ways are death, he has no choice but to keep trying to survive.

Laszlo wanted to drink more and more, and he couldn't fall asleep without alcohol in his throat. Even if he fainted from exhaustion, he often woke up shaking, with cold sweat from head to toe.

He didn't know what was wrong with him, only that his body was deteriorating, and he was sure he was dying.

The thought terrified him at first, but he learned to accept it after a few days.From the moment he realized he was about to die, everything changed for him: somehow he became calmer and bolder, he walked out of the forest twice a day to fill his waterskin, no longer afraid of being caught .

When he finally got used to sleeping on the bare ground, drinking only river water and eating fruits, he unexpectedly bumped into a team that was also camped deep in the forest, far away from his ears.

The contingent is made up of strange characters, outcasts of society: musicians no longer employed by the rich, emaciated unemployed mercenaries, ragged beggars, prostitutes no longer in shape or shape.

Laszlo thought he might try to join them, but in the end he took the easier and quicker route.

He sneaked into their camp at night and gathered what he could get his hands on.He became a thief, and he surprised himself how easy it was to do these things now.

But in his haste, he didn't take too many things, a bag full of jerky, two bottles of wine, a large sleeping cloth, and a small strong wooden box with a lock.

He didn't know what it contained, but from the weight and the clinking sound, he expected to have a cash box in his hand.

He didn't sleep that night, but ran as hard as he could until his muscles burned, and sometime around noon the next day he collapsed limply in the thick grass.

In the next few days, he was no longer hungry, nor was he short of wine. He sipped the wine carefully, for fear that he would finish it soon.He slept soundly in the big quilt, but he just couldn't open the case.

Laszlo tried his best, first he tried to knock the lock off with a stone, but when he found it was impossible, he tried to pry the lock open with a sword blade, but this only caused two cuts on the back of his hand, bleeding profusely, and the padlock remained motionless .

He gave up after a while, and he wasn't going to do anything with the money now anyway.

From then on, he didn't pay much attention to the box. Whenever he came across a big stone, Laszlo would try to use it to break the lock, and when he failed, he would drop the stone and continue walking.

At night, he sleeps with the box under his head, and during the day, he puts the box in the bag where the jerky used to be.Once again he didn't know where he was going, only that he had left the Bulgar White Castle long ago and was walking west along the river.

When he finally emerged from the forest, he was like a piece of mud that had been chewed and spit out by the forest.

Then, almost a month after he fled Timisoara, on the west side of the Bulgarian White Fort, not far from the dirt road on the north bank of the Sava River, luck smiled at him.

A large house stood before him, without walls, without guards, without soldiers, all alone, with only a few farmhouses around it.

The house stood in the twilight like a jewel box waiting to be opened, like the cash box in Laszlo's bag.The man stared fascinatedly at this lonely manor in the wilderness, and his hand slipped unconsciously to the hilt of the sword hanging on his belt.

Everything became clear in an instant.

He knew what he had to do, and he knew where he had to go.He decided not to hide in the forest anymore, but to continue along the broad road, first east to Dubica, and then south along the Una to the Adriatic Sea.

There, he can start a new life away from everything he's ever known.

Laszlo hid in the bushes, took out a large piece of jerky from the bag, took a bite, and drank the warm wine.This time, he no longer saves food and drink, but gathers strength and courage for what he is about to do.

After the sun set, he waited for a while, then under the cover of night, he drew his sword with his right hand and walked towards the house.

(End of this chapter)