Temple Sword

Chapter 155 A good deal

1322, Month of St. John (June)
Szekesvai Castle, Hungary
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It was a sweltering summer afternoon slowly turning into evening.The sun was setting from the west, and the scenery in the suburbs was red and yellow.

A man and a gray mule trailed elongated shadows in the setting sun, returning home from a two-day fair, eager to hit the road north.

The owner of the cart who came to the side of the mule was named Joseph. He worked as a blacksmith in Buda and had a small house outside the city walls where he and his wife Lily lived a simple but busy life.

Whenever he had the chance, he took his goods to Sekesvai Castle or Visegrad, because he thought it would bring him more new customers and more income.His dream was to become a weaponsmith, but he never managed to get a license to operate.

Joseph is very confident in his craft: he has been blacksmithing with his father since he was a child, and even though they are not weaponsmiths, his father secretly taught him how to make a good weapon.

It is said that one of their ancestors forged many weapons for the soldiers of King St. Stephen, and the skill has been passed down to the present day.Although Joseph didn't know the truth of this statement, he was willing to believe it was true.

He believes the family's skill in making blades has been passed down from generation to generation.He also believed that his grandfather, or even his great-grandfather, was not some blacksmith who only made iron shoes.

At the age of 40, he still firmly believes that one day the rector, the nobles and even the king himself will trust him and hope that he can continue the work of his ancestors, forging swords, daggers, spearheads and axes in his shop. His customers will be wealthier people.

The wheels rattled over a pothole full of unsold merchandise.Joseph nodded, it was time to change the status quo.

On the outskirts of the city, strange-looking strangers sold slaves or other indecent things from time to time, and a rather dirty, windowless carriage was parked in front of his eyes.Some grim-looking people were packing their belongings and preparing to leave.

In the front seat of the carriage a small man was cursing in a harsh manner.

But what really caught the smith's attention was a little boy in rags, sitting on top of an overturned bucket in the back of the wagon, with all the sorrow in the world in his tired, dull eyes.

When Joseph saw the ten-year-old boy, his breath caught in his throat because...

"No," he exclaimed in amazement, "it's impossible!"

His footsteps involuntarily continued to the carriage, although he didn't want to talk to those who looked murderous, but that child... that child...

"What do you want?" The black-toothed man who was cursing on the carriage just now shouted, "There is nothing for you here, get out of here!"

But the blacksmith's feet were stuck on the ground and he couldn't move.

"Didn't you hear, you poor wretch?" the man cursed again. "Or are you deaf? Or have your tongue been cut out? Because if you still have a tongue, I can still cut it out, so be careful!"

"Is this your son?" Joseph nodded to the boy on the barrel, and the angry short man changed his face instantly.

"Why didn't you ask this earlier, my dear brother?" He smiled broadly, showing his rotten teeth. "No, he is not my son, but in a sense, he is mine... Let's take a closer look!"

Olivier's tone was very gentle. He jumped off the horse and gently stroked the stranger's back, bringing him closer to the goods.He who was still angry just now will suddenly feel lucky.

He hadn't been able to sell the kid since the autumn, at first because he had a big mouth, but then he stopped talking after his friend was bought.

But that wasn't the real problem, because a good slave is a slave who doesn't talk, but the kid never opened his mouth, not even when he was supposed to be eating.

So they've been beating him and feeding him since then, because no one wants a slave with only bones, and what can he do without strength?

They stuffed food down his throat like a goose to keep him from starving, but he would still spit it out a lot.

He was like a noose around Olivier's neck, and the slave traders thought they could never sell him again.

But at this time, the blacksmith came.

"What's his name?" Joseph asked, stopping a step away from the child.He leaned closer to the boy's face and continued to stare at him incredulously, as if seeing a miracle.

"Call him whatever you want, as long as you like, he can call him whatever." The black-toothed man grinned, "He doesn't have a name."

"What's your name, boy?" the blacksmith asked Ire directly now, but the boy didn't answer, just stared at him with infinite bitterness.During the numerous beatings, he had had time enough to realize that it was best not to say anything.

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Olivier glared at the stranger. "He doesn't have a name, you understand? He never belonged to anyone, we've been feeding him since last year, before that he was an orphan and I kept him alive.

We picked him up near the White Castle in Bulgar, and anyway, he's not as thin as he looks.He was a strong, quick, strong boy who could do all kinds of work.

If I'm not mistaken, he may only be ten years old, but he is more capable than his peers. he added. "He's healthy, there's nothing wrong with him, and his teeth are intact. See for yourself!"
You are lucky because he was almost bought today, he is my last slave, are you interested? "

Joseph and his wife are always worrying about their livelihood for the next month. Their money is only enough to buy the necessities of their life, they are barely hungry, and they have something to wear.

But they can never spend money on things that are not necessary, let alone pay for servants.

Still, when Black Fang's slave trader asked the blacksmith if he was interested in the boy, Joseph replied without hesitation, "I am."

"Excellent!" Olivier patted his dirty hands. "Five marks silver coin, this is a special price for you."

Hearing this number, Joseph suddenly woke up from his dream.Five marks?He can't afford to pay so much...

"Is your price for this kid too high?" he asked, raising half of his eyebrows. "Can he pull out gold?"

"Young and strong!" Olivier grabbed Yi Lei's thin arm, "If it was a 30-year-old slave, I would not charge so much, but he is only ten years old, this child can be more than a grown-up slave for you Serve for ten or even 20 more years. It must be a wise move to buy him, just a set of his teeth is worth the money!"

"I don't have five marks in silver," said Joseph, "I'll give you three marks."

"Four marks!" Olivier stretched out his palm, "how is it, good brother?"

Joseph trembled a little with excitement, but he tried to hide his feelings.

He wanted the child and felt he could not stay here, he had to take him back to Buda.But at the same time, he also knew that the black-fanged man deliberately raised the price, and he couldn't possibly spend so much money to buy this kid.

"We have nothing to do with each other, don't call me brother." He said bravely, then reached into his pocket and took out three battered coins. "Three marks, I won't give you more, I know he's worth no more than that."

For a long time Olivier stared at the blacksmith, who stood motionless, expressionless, and could see nothing in his eyes.His tightly pursed lips suddenly burst into a bright smile, and he snatched the three silver coins from Joseph's hand.

"You got a good deal!" He smiled with satisfaction, "Take him away, use him for whatever you want, he's yours. But don't bring him back, I won't refund the money of!"

Olivier pushed Ire, and the boy got up from the bucket and walked towards his new master with slow, uncertain steps.

Joseph looked at the boy worriedly: he saw his wrists cut by the rope, and the small figure and obvious beating marks under the loose linen shirt.

The black-toothed slaver was still babbling, but the blacksmith didn't listen, his only attention was on the child, who could barely stand on his own feet.

Joseph couldn't bear to watch anymore, he walked up to the boy, held him in his arms, and took him to his cart.

Pushing away the unsold goods, he rolled up the tarp with clumsy movements and placed the child on it.

"Don't be afraid!" he whispered in the boy's ear, his back turned to the slaver and his menacing men. "Now you're out of harm's way, relax, I'll get you something to eat soon.

Sleep if you want, because there is still a long way to go home, no one can hurt you there, we will take good care of you..."

The gray mule pulled the cart and continued on, farther and farther away from the slave trader. A tear welled up from the corner of Joseph's eye.

"My dear son!" he said to himself. "No one can take you from us again, neither man nor God..."

(End of this chapter)